Jammin' at the dance

Of the past 24 hours, I have spent 6 dancing. That's a quarter of my whole day. My body's pleasantly tired and my heart's full of joy. There are probably better feelings than this, but I'd be hard-pressed to tell you where to find them.

The memory of my first contra dance is pretty hazy. It ought to have occurred somewhere in Greensboro, North Carolina, about 5 or 6 years ago, but it seems like it's always been a part of me. When asked to describe contra dance, I usually say, "it's a little like square dancing -- the moves, anyway, but it's done a lot like English country dancing -- like in Pride and Prejudice," which I reference though I don't think I've managed to sit through it yet.

However, this simplified description doesn't capture the essence of the dance; it tells you only about the dance itself. When I go to a contra dance... I go because I want to be surrounded by people who are full of joy, who are smiling at you and having a good time and are ever so pleased that you are dancing with them. It is a celebration of joy and other really simple, basic pleasures.

And it is a community, with lots of different roles filled by lots of different people by lots of different places. Organizers. Musicians. Dancers. Callers. Workshop leaders. The folks with the audio equipment who do the soundboard. They come from miles around... for most regular contra dancers, an hour or less of travel time is relatively close.

Contra dancing has never been anything other than an interest or a hobby for me, but I still consider it to be an area where I'm active musically -- even if it's just a jam session, like this one, after the Arden contra dance this evening. These folks are from the Baltimore Open Band and SPUDS from Philadelphia (collectively known as the Mason-Dixon Contra Dance Orchestra), as well as a few musically-inclined dancers (like myself).



Many contra tunes are known throughout the community of musicians -- certain tunes, standards, anyway. This makes it pretty easy to jam. Essentially we were just going around the circle and naming tunes we knew. The folks that knew them played along, the few folks that didn't would just listen, or try to play as best they could.

It's sort of funny because... I love it so much, but I haven't really actively tried to learn the music. Why not? Well, here's the notion... and it's completely stupid, but I know you will understand because you, too, have thought stupid things like this...

I think that it would be easy, so I've never tried.

I have to laugh at the audacity of that statement. How would I know it's easy if I've never tried it? That's pride, and I know it, and God knows it. He's like, "well, if it's so dang easy, why don't you do it? Go pick up the banjo, guitar, recorder, whatever, and go play the darn stuff. The sheet music's up on the Lancaster contra dance page, and you know it."

And I'm all, "WELL, MAYBE I WILL." And I haven't, yet... but I love finding out where I have pride and then trying to break it down. Learning the stuff would be a great way of doing just that. I have no intention of being a pretentious jerk, so while it's disappointing to uncover a piece of pretentious jerk in me, it's awesomely fun to destroy it.

There's no life where there's pride. There's life in the humble and the simple things, and that's where I'm tryin' to go.