Who Put The Funk In Funky?

At least once every decade or so, someone, maybe even you, asks me the following highly personal question: "SJG, where o' where did you get your awesome dance moves?" Where o' where to begin?  How to pinpoint the exact moment when the booty first discovered an inclination to shake, shake shake? Well, this morning, it came to me, the original location from which the SJG Soul Train first departed.  It was at school, of course.  Smart ass that I was, I found 7th grade Homemaking to be most enlightening, in an adorably retro, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me kind of way. A female-only course devoted to turning little girls into skilled housewives?  Sign me up for that action. Actually, I had no choice.  Sewing (Part I) and Cooking (Part II) were mandatory.

I'm not going to lie. Part I proved challenging for the SJG. I was more interested in mastering the Funky Chicken (desktop version) than Threading A Needle.  It was all LaFaye Baker's fault.  She taught me the Funky Chicken and then urged me to perform it on top of the table whenever the teacher's back was turned.  What did I get for my interpretative, free-style funk? Not one, but two U's.  Did those soulless "unsatisfactories" deter me from pursuing my love of dance?  Not even! They spurred me on to get funkier. However, I strongly believe had there been cute boys in Sewing, or even not cute boys, I would have reverted to my standard shyness.  My God!  I might've fashioned a fabulous gym bag, scarf or outfit, like my more obedient classmates. I might be a seamstress for the Olympic Figure Skating Team right now. Yet in this alternate version, I might never have mastered the Funky Chicken, which would have been a tragic loss for humanity. Without dudes to impress - that would come later -- my attitude was, "Oh, eff it, bitches, let's dance." This non-academic attitude explains so much about my underwhelming scholarly pursuits.  "Give me rhythm or give me a U." That's the SJG motto and I'm sticking to it.