Slow Dancing

I guess I should give you a detailed update on my two dates/meetings this week. But instead I want to talk about the lost art form that is slow dancing to beautiful ballads.

Maybe I keep my radio on top 40 too much but I’m really missing ballads these days. In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard a really good love song since I was a child. In those days, my mother kept a constant loop of Luther Vandross songs and my father was all about Phyllis Hyman. And of course, my father always played from his record collection Saturday mornings. I can recall many mornings of eating grits and bacon to background music provided by The Dells, The Platters, or Nancy Wilson.

I’d imagine that there are still good, new love songs out there, and that they just don't infiltrate all the club and dance songs that dominate the stations I listen to. That’s why you’ll see me tuning my radio to the Quiet Storm when I’m doing dishes in the evening—just like my mom and dad did when I was a kid. And oddly, the same songs that dominated the mix back then are still played. Which makes me think that there really isn’t much new out there.

And that brings me to the fact that I’ve been very interested in slow dancing. Whenever I listen to Sinatra or Ella, I imagine myself wearing a pretty dress and heels and gently swaying to the music, my eyes locked with those of a cute guy. That is a far cry from the bumping and grinding that goes on at all the bars and clubs in DC. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy booty shaking as much as any other 20-something girl. But now that I’m older, I long for the formality and the greater connection one can get through slow dancing. I think the last time I slow danced (with a person and not my stuffed hippo…) was with Floyd. We danced to Selena. It was very romantic. And I would take that over any other night of gyrating to Outkast, Ludacris, or anything else we danced to in those days.

A-M tells me that I need to get connected with the DC Hand Dancing clubs, and perhaps, the classes at Glen Echo.

I know that this all makes me sound like a crazy old lady. I’m only recently realizing how old fashioned and traditional I really am. Maybe it comes with age or maybe it's that this is my “authentic self.” Regardless, I am in search of some modern ballads for some wholesome slowdancing. I guess I should work on securing a dance partner first. As I know from experience, there is always a shortage of males at dancing classes.

On that note, I bombed my meeting with J. I went into it seeing it as an informational interview/networking opportunity—that was my cover and what I told myself so that I wouldn't get nervous and act weird. Unfortunately, I never directed our meeting into more social territory, and our hour-long chat barely left the realm of the professional. And I left with a new professional contact and not a date. But I'm still somewhat hopeful. My date today with O from Okcupid went okay, but I sense that I merely made a new friend. He is really nice but we'll see how things go on the next date, assuming he calls.

Thankfully, I am not discouraged (just frustrated). I look forward to going on more dates in the hopes that I'll someday, finally get it right and hit the jackpot.