On being like Michael Jackson, part two

Sometimes all I want to do is shake my sweet thang.  I'm the sort of runner who awkwardly dances while running, I'm the sort of girl subtly keepin' a sick beat at the bus stop with a understated two-step and perceptible gyrations.  In the shower I belt out Les Miserables (and would be a walk-in for Eponine or basically any character if auditions were held in my shower), then jive to daft punk throughout my entire rushed morning.  I've got music veritably spilling out of me and I always have at least one soundtrack going on-- sometimes daily, weekly, monthly, seasonally.  If you knew me in the summer of 2010, I was basically always groovin' to "Dance Yrself Clean" by LCD SoundSystem as I limped/grooved/walked down the fresh sidewalks of Madison.  It becomes more than a soundtrack- more like a life style. All the lyrics become internalized, personal, meaningful.  This last week, my soundtrack has been "Foxy Lady"- which really puts the fox in my trot.  It also unfortunately has cast me as the aforementioned foxy lady.  Not sure where this particular song will lead me but based on my "Dance Yrself Clean" summer when I came into my own as a hair-flipping marvel on the dance floor with moves I didn't even know myself capable of- then watch out, and take cover, residents of South Saint Paul. 

I take a lot of inspiration from different sources.  MJ, himself.  From my roommate who has been known and witnessed to dance to MJ dance wii when into her cups, and who moreover has so amazingly mastered all of wii dances moves, that she should probably start charging people to watch her.  More groove per square inch than most people'll ever have.  I'm also inspired by my father who is well-renowned to put the "Ding!" in Wedding with his awe-inspiring crowd-drawing wedding reception dance moves, and has more than once, according to witnesses, ended in attempting splits ala' John Travolta. Admittedly, this propensity to be a serial wedding-solo-dance-marvel was confusing and sort of embarrassing when we'd hear reports from our friends at school such as, "Man, I heard your old man tore up the dance floor and brought down the house last weekend at so and so's wedding."  Hmmm.  Not sure how to take that as a 14 year old.  I hope I can appreciate it more, now. 

Anyway, I think dancing is the way I balance myself out.  It's like a necessary chemical reaction results in it.  This is all to say that I'd rather be dancing somewhere.

Other thoughts: It seems sorely inadequate to have 1 earth day a year.  It's like all other days are slotted for human-centered dominance and destruction. Every day should be earth day!!! We should love the earth every day and consider it as a factor in our decisions.  Using a reusable starbucks cup once a year-though admirable- should be more of a constant mindset.  As should carpooling!  We live in a nation of near-empty cars, where in other countries you don't leave unless you are over-capacity and are touching a goat.  We need to be more welcoming to inconvenience and to delayed gratification.  I hate writing all this, because it's soap-boxy and everyone knows all this but it's hard to change because it's so engrained in our culture.  I much prefer writing about dancing.  To make this easier:  So, the Earth is the belle of the ball, the prettiest damn girl at the dance with many eager partners waiting their turn.  Not just humans.  Also trees, goats, bears, flowers, wind, etc.  We wait in line to dance with Mother Earth and once it's our turn, we dance together with the earth, or we should, moving as a team, conscious of the other, trying not to step on feet.  Instead, something has gone terribly wrong.  While all the other flora and fauna continue to wait in line to dance with mother earth, the human species has gotten drunk on punch, has cut in to dance with earth, and now is grinding on her and fist-pumping.  Where's the love and balance in grinding?  It's just gross. 

We need to remember how to coexist in all ways, but not least, at the most elemental level.  We need to relearn how to be part of the earth- not apart from the earth.  We are, after all, just another grouping of weird animals that happens to currently live here.

to over-twerk the dance metaphor, I end with these words from "The Dirty Projectors:"

There is an answer
I haven't found it
But I'll keep dancing till I do




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