Last night I had a dream about Darryl Philbin, the warehouse manager of The Office. When I woke up, I really wanted to dance. I rarely need an excuse to dance. I love dancing.
I think everyone
should dance. I have told that to my son since he was old enough to stop
wanting to dance. About six, I think. The age of peer pressure. That’s where it
begins. Little boys seem to think if they can’t be good at something, they shouldn’t
even try. They are missing what dancing is all about. Not moves, but freedom of
inhibition. I still remember the guys at my high school that could rock the dance
floor. I don’t remember their faces or anything else about them. I just wanted
every guy I knew to be like them. Dancing
guys impress everyone.
Why is that?
Every mother wants her son to be a dancing guy, but we have no
control. Peer pressure can whip that thought out of their head faster than you
can say no. But the few who succeed become names women remember.
Though dancing is certainly a fast pass to a woman’s heart,
dancing is not about romance. Dancing is about being comfortable in your own
skin. Feeling graceful or larger than life, however silly you might look. Let’s agree to leave that fear in high
school. In real life, how you look is different than how you feel. And how we
feel is everything, right?
How fitting that the creators of The Office chose Darryl’s
last day to be so interactive. As an employee, he was anything but involved
with the rest of the office. You could say Darryl’s plan of escape was a
dance. From his wallflower comments
about how no one would miss him, to assuring himself he would miss no one,
Darryl skirts being part of the Dunder Mifflin team like teens at a dance.
He packs his desk. He hopes for an invisible
escape, but is busted. Confronted by his office co-workers, Darryl agrees to
hang around long enough to participate in one
group activity. Nothing more. And his co-workers must decide. Blurring lines of office
etiquette and intimacy, they honor Darryl’s last day with both
something he is really good at and something he has always avoided. Dancing and
involvement.
We should all leave like Darryl.
People want to dance. It’s the reason prime time TV is
flooded with dance shows. Even when we think we can’t dance or have no one to
dance with, we think about dancing. Or dream about it. Dancing is a reward for our far too
often stationary bodies. It's physical interpretation of music that unleashes our
souls.
Babies start dancing before they walk. Long before they can read, write or hold down
a job.
My granddaughter (who has asked to be called Blossom) has danced every day of her life, I’m almost certain.
Without instruction or prompting. Many times without music-
that we can hear, anyway.
We can’t take the prom attitude toward dancing anymore than
we should live life like high school. We can’t wait and see if there might be a
better person to dance with or something better to do than dance. There isn’t. I’m
telling you. Ask the producers of Dancing with the Stars, American Bandstand or Soul Train. There
isn’t.
I am begging you to dance. I’m leaving you with this
challenge and this link. Right now. Wherever you are. Get up and dance. Bust
out your air guitars if that’s what feels good.
You’re welcome.
Now let me know, was it as good for you as it was for Darryl?
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