Yo! Been busting some moves down in the 'hood with my crew. Been locking, and popping, and freezing, and krumping, and b-boying. It was da bomb! Word up!In other words I have been to a rather splendid dance class, and I had a thoroughly marvellous time performing some rather tricky steps.
This challenge was presented to me by my beautiful, young friend, Joanna, after I had consumed too much loopy juice. In the spirit of my adventurous and oh-so-loopy year, and under the influence of alcohol, I said yes to attending a street dance class, - having given my word, there was no backing out, despite the pleadings of my 15 year old son!
Yes, I was the oldest there by some considerable margin, but I was not the oddest (that accolade goes to a 6ft 6 super-skinny 40 year old man). And yes, I did consider asking them to turn the music down, or to at least play something with a tune. And yes, I most definitely looked completely ridiculous, being half a dozen moves behind everybody else, slipping on my own personal puddle of sweat and with a bright red, rather wrinkly face. I suspect also that on 'the street', giggling is a no-no, so I broke that rule too!I had a very phat time, and on the embarrassing-your-children scale, this is a winner! All credit to 19-year-old Joanna, for accompanying me and for doing it with style, humour and not a hint of a red face. You're a star.
Now can I order a Stannah to take me upstairs, because my legs have just reminded my head how old I actually am.
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