Strange Recollections

Does anyone ever have those moments where you can sit back, reflect, and find that you remember something so totally random that it's almost difficult placing yourself within that memory - as though it is some movie constructed by the brain to fill an unknown Freudian need.

This happened to me the other day.

It must have been 10 years ago, or more, that I had gone to my first school dance (I think). At the Brian King Centre in Warman, Saskatchewan - to be precise. I must have been influenced by some sort of vile media propaganda at the time - perhaps one of those Flashdance style movies. I was absolutely positive that it was really cool to do crazy footwork on the dance floor - and a certain plateau was reached only when those individuals around me would draw back in awe at the skill of my pivots.

So, late in the evening, after a hearty dose of orange pop, with dreams of stardom in mind, I made my way onto the dance floor. At first, I started to groove to the music, then slowly upped the tempo. No one gets famous for moving slowly I decided. Within moments I was jamming like a true professional, feet flying everywhere, hands planted firmly in my pockets, eyes focused straight ahead. Yes, I moved like I had never moved before, with no regard whatsoever for the tempo of the music blasting out of the tower speakers on either side of the stage, and it seemed to me at the time, that the surrounding people did make room for a superstar in the making, to admire a young man who was allowing them a glimpse at what would become a open floodgate of incredible talent.

Upon reflection, I realize they may have actually been moving away from the crazy kid that seemed to be having a seizure on the dance floor.

Either way, I'm not sure how, if at all, this applies to my life now. Perhaps my absolute refusal to use the dance floor at clubs stems from this one incident, years past. Who knows. I thought I should share it though, doubtless someone will find it amusing.