Recently I attended my good friend Cort's wedding (Congratulations Cort and Naomi!). It was a beautiful ceremony that was simple and classy. It included Cort's beaming mother, proud father, and a heart-touching speech by his best man and younger brother Erik. I may have shed a tear if it wasn't for the looming sense of fear and self-counciousness within me. Part of the reception afterwards was scheduled to include swing dance lessons. Not Brian Spite presents: Not In the Swing Of Things by Brian Hines Stevie Wonder = smooth Brian = not smooth The Hines' are not a smooth bunch of guys. So teaching one of them to dance, and dance in a way of suaveness, is probably more difficult than hiding a black-horned rhino in ones' back pocket. So, when I learned I would have to at least attempt to whirl and twirl some poor girl, I quickly shat my pants. On the other hand, swing dancing is something I have wanted to learn since seeing the movie Swingers so I partly wanted to be good at it. And it was one of my best friends' weddings -- so I gave it an honest effort. Bec, a friend of the bride who had done this before and was really good at it, dragged my foolish butt out there and first showed me the basics. It was like taking astronomy classes from Stephen Hawking. One, two, three, ummmm... what's next? I was a babe in the woods, my friends. Somehow, I did manage to get the basic step down, but then some foolish person had to start playing the music. So Not Brian The lessons continued. They taught me to spin her, spin myself at the same time as her, do some funky arm stuff, and then some weird-ass side step. The instructors made the ridiculous assumption that as soon as they taught us one step we were ready for the next one. Apparently, I was thrown into the honors class where I should have been shooting spitballs with the kids in remedial swing dance. With Bec, I looked all right. The night went on and I realized that if you have a partner that can actually dance, you can just sway back and forth and the girl will make you look like Fred Astaire. But then Bec asked, "Want to try a lift?" I now know what Muhammad Ali's sparing partners felt like just before entering the ring. But my attitude quickly changed when, after seeing my nervousness, she asked, "Do you think you're strong enough to do a lift?" Basically she challenged my manhood. I secretly checked my pants to make sure I had a pair, and then said, "Let's do it". When she explained how to lift her in the air and swing her entire body to each side of me, it somehow made sense! I took physics; momentum is an amazing thing. Seconds later her ass was on the floor and my friends were laughing at me. I could see my audition for a Gap commercial flying out the same window I wanted to crawl out of. You Once Loved This Band By the end of night I had my khakis on, my white shirt un-buttoned with sleeves rolled, and my old style glasses on my face. I sure as hell looked like I could swing dance, but then again George W. Bush appears like he could lead a nation. Looks aren't everything. I was proud that I tried, but also ashamed I did this in public and not with a broom. Congratulations to those who can do this feat with any amount of skill and confidence. I'm going to stick with the New Kid Dance. Brian actually performs the New Kid dance very well. Spite Home | Bile Cabinet Write Spite | Post A Message