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| Weird Al Yankovic |
What is that tune you’re humming?” This to my teacher son sitting in the back
seat.
“What do you think it is?” was his response.
“Well, it’s familiar but I don’t know the name.”
“I’ll give you a hint. It’s often played at weddings.”
And then he explained that he was teaching a dance class at
his elementary school, and three of the dances were wedding-specific; The
Chicken Dance (which is what he was humming), the Macarena, and the Polka.
That got me thinking of how each of those and several other
dances played a role in my upbringing, and a wonder as to what has happened to
dance with our grandchildren.
I never actually danced the Polka until I went to Marquette,
in Milwaukee, where it seemed ubiquitous.
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| The Chicken Dance |
The Macarena has an even stranger history. I was working as a Dental
Director for a company whose major clientele was Las Vegas Culinary. When the owner decided to marry for I think
the third time, he had the wedding and reception in one of the hotels on The Strip. The service lasted about 4 minutes, and might
have been longer had the person performing the service had a more imaginative
material writer. The Macarena had just
been introduced and wedding guests were having a ball at the reception learning
the dance, Mary and I among them.
The Chicken Dance was introduced into the US in the early
1970’s, so I would have had some contemporaries getting married then and
several nieces and nephews along the way.
That was probably my introduction.
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| Tinikling |
It is easy to see why Tim would chose all three of these dances as part
of a Physical Education curriculum, since they are all very energetic. A fourth choice, probably because he spent two of his formative years in the Philipines, was Tininkling.
When I was growing up, we actually went to Dance Classes, a sometimes-bitter
experience as we tested our popularity.
Sock Hops were routine in high school, and American Bandstand was there
for all of us to help us hone our skills.
I was always considered a pretty good dancer until I reached
an age where, as I would tell Mary, “I could sit her and dance all night”,
moving my feet and my hands while seated at the table. With my iconic love of jazz, music was more
to be listened to than to participate, but when dancing was expected I was
comfortable joining the fray.
It seems to me that dance for the young is less frequent and
perhaps more special. I know Tim and
other school chaperones keep a watchful eye on the sensuality of danced. I’m not seeing the proclivity of film and
concerts featuring dance as they did a generation ago. I did find it interesting when someone
commented that this young generation of Millennials is the first not to have
their “own” music since before WW II. Fandango and Hula allow for eclecticism
never before possible. What’s on your
play list? Another pundit said you can
tell when someone was born by the music they remember from high school; a fact
I reminded a friend who was more than a little forgetful about when she was
born.
In my next Post I will exercise a grandparent’s right to
boast about their grandchildren. I hope
you will join me.
