Song and Dance

I’ll now continue to use the mask (”somebody stop me”) of anonymity that this blog affords me to once again expose some of the inner workings of my admittedly twisted mind. Previous readers are no doubt aware of my affection for including lyrics from relevant songs in my articles, and would probably not be surprised that I’ve always wanted to be a singer. In actual fact, I’ve often fantasized about performing on stage in front of an audience of adoring fans.

But the sad truth is that no matter how great a singing talent anyone thought I was, I’d never have the nerve to actually get up in front of people and do it. Not even for an audience consisting of my closest family and friends. And this “shyness” also applies to dancing in front of people, even though I know – at least intellectually – that almost no one would notice. To gain some insight into the effect that my unwilling to dance has had on my life, you should give a read to my Love, Loss, Anger, and Faith article.

But my shyness certainly hasn’t prevented me from “performing” in private. Sure, I know that everyone sings along to their favorite songs. But I doubt seriously that anyone has gotten more enjoyment, not to mention psychic relief, from doing so as I have. And while my private dancing is much closer to “performance art” than anything you’re likely to see on a dance floor, I’d be willing to bet that no one on a dance floor gets the enjoyment and release I get from it. Being the extreme “homebody” that I am, it’s probably my only real source of exercise.

In an attempt to provide a feel for the “psychology” of my private sessions, I’m including the lyrics from two songs that I think act as great references for it. The first is Sing Child by Heart:

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Melody Maker
Giver and taker
Heartbreaker
He want to sing I know
Try it again
Sooner or later
He gonna break down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Holy junkie
Funky monkey
Everybody calls him honey
He gonna sing I know
He don’t want to play that game
He gotta play that game
Oh, honey, honey, honey,
You got to come down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Dreamer
Machiner
What will you ever do when you blow a fuse
Don’t want to stay here
Honey roll
Sooner or later
You’ve gotta break down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

The second is I hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance..
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone)

Finally, I’d like to address the fact that those who know me have always wondered about my willingness, as a man, to be so open with how I feel about things. In most cultures, certainly the African-American culture in which I was raised, such openness is considered to be a “female” trait. But those who know me are well aware that I am not “gay” and don’t behave in any other way that might be considered “feminine.” It’s just that I’ve grown up surrounded by men that I consider to have been badly damaged by their inability to rationally express their emotions. But I’d be lying if I said that this has not had an impact upon me as well. Hell, I’m practically a hermit.

Anyway, I think that Pink Floyd’s Paranoid Eyes provides some more insight into this issue:

Button your lip and don’t let the shield slip
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask
And if they try to break down your disguise with their questions
You can hide hide hide
Behind paranoid eyes

You put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide hide hide
Behind petrified eyes

You believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
Now you’re lost in a haze of alcohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
And you hide hide hide
Behind brown and mild eyes

I want ice water.