Do you wanna dance?
I am a man of a very limited skill set.
1. I am…uh was …a superior stick ball player.
(I believe I could have gone pro).
2. Little kids and dogs always seem to like me.
3. I have a decent talent for writing…
advertising commercials, clever birthday cards and…a blog*
(*Well, you be the judge of that).
And…
4. I can dance.
It all started with my Mom teaching me Dance 101… “The Box Step”.
Once I mastered the 4-step regimen (without having to count the steps out loud),
I proudly hit the dance floor at every family occasion,
doing my best to wrap my arms around the waists of my round-bodied Grandmas
and some rather hefty aunts and step to the beat, moving…well…in a box.
Meanwhile, at the same time that I was taking my first dance steps…
my Mom and Dad were taking their own dance lessons!?!
It was a bit hard for me to even comprehend that my hard-working parents
would actually go to a dance studio once a week, after work,
to learn how to Fox Trot and Rumba.
Their instructors were a “sparkly” married couple, named Jules and Jeri.
Yeah, that was their real names!
And… a few years later, my sister Ellen, actually spent some time with J&J,
as an instructor!
Ladies and Gentlemen…Presenting “The Dancing Skollars!
I soon progressed to the more exotic and oh-so-snazzy Cha Cha Cha.
I swiveled my skinny hips with wild abandonment and demonstrated a natural Latino flair.
That led to my lively, rhythmic stylings of The Mambo and The Merengue.
I was a regular mini- Ricky Ricardo!
But it was in the late ‘50’s and ‘60’s when Mr. Chubby Checker
introduced a cultural phenomenon with The Twist…
that I too, had my true breakout …as an “international dance superstar”,
(Well, at least among my adoring fans…my family)
NOTE: Not sure how many of you even realize that when Mr. Ernest Evans changed his name
to “Chubby Checker”, it was a not-so-subtle homage to “Fats Domino.
A later wanna-be singer came out as “Porky Parcheesi”… (alas, Porky never quite made it).
I would twist the night away, non-stop, with any willing partner, friend or family.
Ellen and I actually won a few “Twist contests”.
(Think of Ross and Monica’s “routine” in “Friends”).
Being a skinny, wiry, flexible little guy…
I could twist for hours upon hours,
whether it was the “sideways Twist”, (arms and legs flailing out on both sides of one’s torso)
or the “forward Twist”, (leaning forward and back, arms moving in front like a robot)
or the frenzied, manic, double-speed Peppermint Twist
(introduced by Joey Dee and the Starliters at the infamous “Peppermint Lounge”).
Of course, like all Twisters (young and old),
I did suffer from the “Twist Stitch”…
that painful stabbing cramp on the side of one’s rib cage…
which taught me an early life lesson:
“From one moment of pain, comes a lifetime of glory”.
What was really cool about the ‘60’s…
was that, following The Twist,
it seemed that, almost weekly,
a new dance craze with its own song was introduced.
Many of the “how-to dance requirements” were self-evident from their names:
The Skate, The Swim, The Hitchhike, The Shake, The Fly. The Monkey (and the even cooler variation, The Boston Monkey),
The Statue, The Tighten Up, and The Jerk.
(All still staples in my current dance repertoire).
Some of the other dance crazes, however, needed some explanation,
learned by following the lyrics of the songs or demonstrated on TV dance shows
like American Bandstand, Solid Gold, The Lloyd Thaxton Show, and Dance Fever,
(Thank you Deney Terrio…and “Motion”!)
I studied and embraced all of them…
The Locomotion, The Watusi, Mashed Potatoes (the stylized version included adding some “gravy”),
The Bristol Stomp, The Frug, The Boogaloo, The Shing-a-Ling and the oh-so-elegant…Funky Chicken.
Today, as I think back about all those dances…
I am struck by the fact that, not only us teens, but grown adults as well…
were more than willing to blindly follow whatever silliness the dance gurus told us to do…
“Waddle like a duck”, “Shake your booty”, “Throw your hands in the air”, “Smack your bottom”,
“Climb like a monkey”, “Flap like a chicken”, “Mash those potatoes on the floor”.
What were we thinking??? I mean, it was like a “dance cult”!
I can imagine the Dance Gods laughing to themselves as they pushed the envelope even further
and watched as we enthusiastically performed the “novelty dances”:
The Monster Mash, The Hand Jive, The Freddie (perhaps the most awkward dance ever!),
The Time Warp (OK, that was kinda cool), Walk Like an Egyptian, Kung Fu Fighting,
The Mouse (introduced by my hero, Soupy Sales), the endlessly annoying Macarena,
(done universally by EVERYONE from celebs to athletes to world leaders!?!),
and The Limbo (originated either in The Island of Trinidad or at Bar Mitzvahs)
And of course…the ultimate cult craze…The YMCA!
Allow me to dig a bit deeper into this dance “phenomenon ”.
The YMCA will probably be part of our culture forever.
It is known, and “performed” around the world by enthusiastic groups aged 5-100.
It shows up everywhere!
I remember in 1996, when my beloved New York Yankees first had their Grounds Crew defiantly
throw down their brooms, mid-infield sweep, and with perfect choreography,
each crew member would form the letters Y-M-C-A with their raised arms…
the stunned crowd went wild!!
(I’ll admit, it was pretty cool…for a while).
Today, 27 years later, it has become a ballpark “tradition”
right next to “God Bless America” and “Take Me out to the Ballgame”.
BUT, I mean, red-blooded, macho Yankee fans doing The YMCA was one thing…
but today, it has been resurrected as a “rallying cry” for one Donald J. Trump.
I do find it ironic that hard-core, right-wing, arch-conservatives (many strongly anti LGBTQ rights)
all rise to gleefully celebrate a song and dance introduced by the wildly outrageous, openly gay,
disco diva Village People, singing …
“They have everything for you men to enjoy
You can hang out with all the boys”
I guess, as the saying goes…
“Politics and …
Indians, Motorcyle Cops, Cowboys, Sailors, Construction Workers and Leathermen
make strange bedfellows”.
But I digress…
Back to the ‘60s…
and my artistic journey of becoming an incredibly gifted dancer.
I soon came to realize that, in addition to the fun of wildly jumping around
and showing off on the dance floor…
there was another major benefit of dancing…
GIRLS!
The young ladies really seemed to dig the fact that a boy could actually dance.
So from my 5th Grade Dance to my buddies’ Bar Mitzvahs to local “dance parties” at Churches and Youth Groups…
I discovered that I started to attract a bit of attention and attraction from the fairer sex.
In turn, I always loved watching girls dance,
especially with titillating dances like…
The Pony…with pony-tails and early shapely curves bouncing around,
and The Shimmy…with , well…all the “shimmying”.
NOTE: When guys attempted these dances…it was awkwardly gross and uncomfortable to watch.
However I soon learned one thing about dancing with girls…
you actually had to ask them!
Being rather shy,
(despite my supposedly exceptional dance skills),
I remember many a dance party,
when I would spend the entire night, off in a corner, staring at some cute girl,
afraid to “pull the trigger” and mouth the words…
Do you wanna dance?
Truth is…most of the previously-mentioned dances,
were essentially two people dancing on their own, near each other,
with little or no physical or even eye contact.
And if the pressure of one-on-one dancing caused too much angst…
I always had the communal line dances…
The Stroll, The Madison, The Continental, The Strand…
and the crowd favorite Electric Slide.
But then, there was “touch dancing”.
Close encounters of the somewhat more intimate kind.
To be honest, it didn’t actually involve a whole lotta “dancing”.
And it was usually reserved for the announced “last dance of the night”.
With some slow song like “Angel Baby” or “Soldier Boy” playing…
and knowing that my chances were running out…
I would take a deep breath and muster up my shaky courage to mumble…
Um…Do you wanna dance?
Often the answer was a dismissive “No thank you”.
BUT when I was finally able to get a flirty smile and a “Yes”….
with my heart pounding almost through my skinny little chest,
I would cautiously throw my arms around the waist or neck,
of the sweet young lady,
(they always smelled good),
and hold them as close as they, (and my courage), would allow…
and we would simply sway.
The “slow dance” of choice in the 50’s and ‘60’s,
was The Fish.
It involved young two bodies nervously pressed up against each other, barely moving.
Ever-so-slowly (and carefully),
the “dancers”, in unison, would raise up and lower, one foot on their toes, then the other,
perhaps with their torsos making the slightest rotation.
When the song was over,
and the dance ended,
with some sense of disappointment (and honestly, a bit of relief)…
I would always politely say “Thank you very much” to my dance partner…
then scamper back to join my buddies…
to spend the rest of the night sharing (and exaggerating) our “slow dance experiences”.
Eventually, I did get considerably more comfortable with “touch dancing”…
and The Fish was replaced with The Grind (another self-explanatory dance).
As I moved into the later 60’s and ‘70’s
I totally found my “dance groove”.
I somehow lost any sense of inhibition.
Wherever there was dancing, I was there…
the first on the dance floor, the last to leave.
I kept adding new “moves,
I would dance with multiple partners,
I even threw in the occasional “full floor splits”…
Impressive, dangerous…and always good for a laugh.
And then came two watershed events that took my dance to the next level:
1. Oakland University
2. Soul Train
Oakland University was my college, a small school in Michigan,
where I was the only kid from NYC.
Being a New Yorker, I danced “differently” from the other OU kids.
The girls liked that.
O.U. was about 20 miles from Detroit, the home of “Motown”.
I liked that.
A lot of my college friends were black kids from Detroit.
They kinda thought I was cool because I was from NYC.
I thought they were cool…because they were.
We shared a “dance exchange”…
I showed them some of my “East Coast” moves.
They taught me a bunch of dance steps from the Motown groups…
The Temptations, The 4 Tops, The Miracles, The Contours.
At school dances, a bunch of us would go to the center of the dance floor…
and “perform” our Motown routines.
(Without the gold suits).
New Yawk and Motor City…made for some good dance mashups.
In 1971 Soul Train went on air.
I was obsessed.
If I had any dreams of what I wanted to be in my future, it was:
Centerfielder for the Yankees.
An Academy Award winning Screenwriter.
A Soul Train Dancer.
Don Cornelius was my patron saint.
I could watch that riveting Soul Train dance line forever.
I’d study every move, and try to imitate them
I’m always reminded of one of my favorite lines from “Saturday Night Fever”…
When Tony Manero (Travolta) is asked where he came up with one of his dance moves…
He says…
”I made it up…after I saw it on TV”.
Soul Train introduced me to a whole bunch of new dances and steps, including…
The Butterfly, Hot Chocolate, The Harlem Shuffle,The Snake, The Car Wash, The Cabbage Patch. The Cha Cha Slide,
The Tootsie Roll , Dust That Dirt off Your Shoulder and The Rockaway (Lean Back)
NOTE: While today, I am a reluctant member of AARP…I can still do most of them.
And then came Disco.
I know Disco/Dance music is polarizing,
(some question is it really “music”?) ,
but I’m not embarrassed to admit…I like it.
I LOVED Saturday Night Fever.
(I’d still love to learn all those dance moves).
The 70’s and 80’s introduced their own “dances”:
Of course…The Hustle!
(I must confess…I’ve never quite mastered it!)
But then there was also…
The Bump, The Glide, The Bus Stop, The Lawn Mower and Sprinkler, The Running Man,
and the signature Travolta Disco Finger.
One of the biggest regrets of my life,
(at least of my dance life),
was that while I was in the right place at the right time…
I never went to Studio 54!!
I would have loved it…
getting down with Cher, Bianca, Princess Caroline… Warhol.
I just thought it was so, so out-of-my-league,
that I never even tried.
I do still believe in my heart of hearts, that I could have held my own on the floor.
The late 80’s and 90’s introduced me to a bunch of new dance crazes,
many that were named after characters or associated with celebs:
Hammertime, The Humpty Dance, The Superman, The Carlton, The Roger Rabbit,
a ”reboot” of The Popeye (introduced in the ‘30’s), Madonna’s Vogue, MJ’s Moonwalk,
and the bizarre Gangham Style…
For me? Not so much.
And then…the ‘80’s/90’s also brought a new dimension to my dance life…
MY KIDS!
I would dance with them all the time.
I tried to teach them “The Master’s moves”.
My son, Adam, was OK…but unenthusiastic, except for learning the
routines of the “boy bands”.
But my daughter, Dani, was a quick learner…and soon became a fantastic dancer.
She was named captain of her school’s cheerleading squad,
(lots more bump and grind than pom-poms)
and a member and choreographer of The Dance Theater Workshop.
And eventually, begrudgingly…
the day came when I had to face the facts…
she was much better than her Dad.
These days, there’s not a lot of opportunities for old farts like me to boogie down…
that’s not to say that (despite my back operation) I couldn’t still kick out the jams.
I still bop down the streets of NYC, listening and grooving to hip-hop, DJ mash-ups, R&B/Soul, Rap,
and I still keep up with Twerking, Dabbing, Flossing and yes…I can Do The Dougie.
And I still fantasize about one day having this giant dance party,
with my own DJ Rosko-selected dance playlist…
But who would I invite?
Excuse me, do you wanna dance?
Would love to hear about your dance faves and stories.
