GIRL SCOUT
A monthly column in Cincinnati Magazine

Dance ‘Til You Drop

Here is a line I never thought I would hear myself say:

"I had a blast at the World’s Largest Office Party!"

I complained all day long and on the way there, imagining hell in a hotel ballroom with drunken office-worker types in khaki. When we entered, I was amused that the song I had just been playing in my car, the 80s classic Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners was playing. I elbowed my way through a sea of surprisingly good-looking office-worker types to the dance floor. And that’s pretty much where we stayed all night, dancing to every single hit I can remember from the 80s to the sounds of the Rusty Griswold’s – a kick-ass 80’s cover band. I danced with my girlfriend Sarah, by myself, with all my new office-worker friends and finally with Will Benson, who clearly spent as much time dancing in the clubs in the 80s as I did. We tore up that dance floor. And life was good.

Just a few weeks earlier I had been singing the same sort of praise about another event, claiming "I had a blast at the Ballet’s Red Ball!" It’s hard to go to a black-tie event as a single, but as soon as I started dancing tura lura lay style with tura lura lay dance prince/art dealer Michael Lowe, on loan from his wife Kim Klosterman, to Come on Eileen (can you believe it?!), I knew it was going to be a good night. And when my other new favorite dance partner, contemporary art curator Thom Collins stepped up to the plate, we went straight over the top.

The night was about over. In fact, Thom and I were almost to the coat check when we heard it, Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. We dashed back to the dance floor and began to carry on, like Satine and Christian, star-crossed lovers with Bob- Fosse-meets-Baz-Luhrmann dance moves. All went well until we neglected to consider the laws of gravity without proper choreography in some poorly planned backwards dip. We ended up in a heap on the floor.

But we got right back up and dusted ourselves off as though the finals of the ballroom dance competition were at stake. And so we danced, we danced all the way to the disco end, swirling and turning to Let’s Dance the Last Dance. As we were leaving a nice couple commented, "You guys are really good dancers, except for the falling part."

Can you remember ever having a bad time when dancing was a part of the event? I can’t. I love weddings and Bar Mitzvahs for the dancing alone. If 80 year-old Aunt May can learn the Electric Slide at Jason’s Bar Mitzvah, then damn it, so can we. If the guy with the beer belly and the blinking Santa tie clip wants to do the bump with you to Rocky Top at the World’s Largest Office Party, then start swinging those hips.

There are an infinite number of ways to fall from grace in today’s hard world. So get out there and dance. Dance until you drop. You might as well take your fall to the music, then get back up and start dancing again.

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