I will never dance like James Brown, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.
Last Sunday, I found myself clearing a spot on the wood floor at my house to practice my dance moves in sock feet. Think of me as Tom Cruise in “Risky Business,” only 50 years older, balding and with no discernible dance skills. (Also, I was wearing jeans, not tighty whities like Cruise.)
Still, a week ago I had my laptop out streaming the James Brown shuffle on YouTube, a shifty little dance move popularized by the soul singer. Brown, often called the Godfather of Soul and the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, was the inspiration for some of Michael Jackson’s iconic dances.
Anyway, I watched a YouTube dance teacher break down Brown’s signature shuffle, in which his feet fly in all directions. Meanwhile, he stays planted in the same spot as if by some invisible force.
How does a 67-year-old widower like me become a dancing king? Well, as M.J. says, “blame it on the boogie.”
Seriously, I find my sock dancing at the confluence of two energies: one, my newfound interest in drumming (specifically drumming to funk music) and my recent introduction to line dancing.
For the past couple of months, I have found myself most Monday nights at the Harrison Center at 5637 Highway 58 learning from line-dance instructor Jeanette Bowen.
I may remain stuck indefinitely in the beginners segment of the course, but I don’t care. For a lifetime non-dancer, just being involved in an organized dance activity is a win.
I was encouraged in November to sample line dancing by a young friend who is an expert in all dance-hall genres involving cowboy boots. Over time, I’ve coaxed my sister, my son and another work friend to try it out. We are even working to coerce a local Methodist pastor to join us, too.
The Wall Street Journal recently reported that line dancing is sweeping metropolitan areas from coast to coast. Clubs from New York to Portland, Oregon, are hiring country bands while customers two-step and line dance.
Thirty to 50 dancers gather at the Harrison Center on Monday nights to perfect their line dancing moves. The music ranges from up-tempo country to R&B. It costs $10 to get in, and you have to sign a safety waiver lest you break a hip. Members of the class skew older, but I’ve seen a number of 20- and 30-somethings on the dance floor in recent weeks, as well.
My favorite is when we beginners dance to Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September.” My mind beckons me to play air drums with my hands and do the James Brown shuffle with my feet, but my better judgment tells me not to raise the ire of the instructor. Bowen has a fun personality, but she keeps command of the room.
I should stress that absolute beginners can have fun at this line dancing class. I haven’t seen anyone yet drop out from frustration. After 75 minutes of a three-hour set, things get more complicated and some, like me, take a seat and watch.
On Night 1, you’ll learn dance moves like the K-step, V-step, rocking chair and vine step. And you don’t need a partner. Line dancing is a solo style. Still, it’s fun to stand beside friends if you can bring a group.
My main problem is sometimes stepping off on the wrong foot, left instead of right, during a dance. That comes from eight years of high school and college marching band, where most drills begin with a left-footed step off.
Besides “September,” beginners dance to songs such as “Sold (The Grundy County Auction Incident)” and “Rub it In.” By the end of the class, which lasts from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., the dancing has become progressively harder, but you can learn a lot just by observing. Bowen urges newcomers to come to the class at least three times before deciding if line dancing is for them.
I am a good guinea pig for any absolute beginners worried about being embarrassed. I’ve never seen anyone at this class who doesn’t seem to be having fun. Even mistakes are funny.
Bottom line: It’s never too late to learn to dance.
And you don’t have to be good, you just have to be game.
Family Life is published on Sundays. Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645.