Do Se Do and Promenade!

I have never been a fan of any kind of dancing. Okay, that's not quite accurate.  I do like slow dancing, but I don't consider it dancing really.  To me, slow dancing is like holding your partner with feeling and absorbing them--being one with them--and shuffling your feet while you're doing it.  Come to think of it, it's more like a moving hug.  I guess I'd just as soon throw the shuffling out of the equation and just get down to the hug part.  Drift off and just let it all go.

Back to the story.

In 4th grade we were subjected to the ritual of square dancing. Apparently our teacher, Mr. Alspaugh, was a square dancer.  He knew the dance, and he knew how to announce (or whatever they call the musical chanting they do that sounds like an auctioneer.)  I say we were subjected to it because I don't think it was a choice with many of us kids at that age--especially boys.  I pretended to hate it like all the members of the "girls are icky" fan club did at the time, however, I was a fan of girls. When the subject of classroom square dancing first came up I was excited. Touching girls! I remember being so nervous about having to be close to them.  It never really got easier for me either. Even though I knew all the girls very well, as far as interaction went I didn't have anything other than the usual classroom activities.  (Trying to catch glimpses of panties while on the playground equipment didn't really count, although that was one of my favorite things.)   Now we got to not only touch them, but hold them! Okay, not holding them really--I mean the ways that square dancers hold: Do-Se-Do's, promenades, and all that stuff that's exclusive to square dancing. Basically, I got to touch and hold them briefly.  Still, briefly counted!

What we actually did with our dancing I don't remember exactly. I think we ended up doing some kind of public exhibition or recital thing one evening for our families.  Square dancing was a fun part of grade school.  It was something I would never would have done had I not been forced, but I'm glad I was.  Thanks, Mr. Alspaugh.