I just got back from a Nigerian Highlife concert at Mount Holyoke College. The place was set up with a huge dance floor and folding chairs off on the sides. The audience was mostly female, mostly 20-something college students, and more racially mixed than the typical crowd in this mostly-white area.

And yet—for the first fifteen minutes or so, I was the ONLY one on the dance floor, even though the opening song was a very danceable number called “Shake Your Body,” and even though the bandleader kept imploring people to get out and dance! I’m a 56-year-old white guy with gray in my beard and a history of ankle and shoulder injuries, and I was dancing, by myself. Why weren’t those lithe 20-somethings out on the dance floor?

Finally, the bandleader pretty much ordered everyone on the floor. And what do you know—one they were out there, they liked dancing, some of them were quite good, and a lot of them stayed dancing (as did I) for the remaining hour and a half. A few even got up on stage and strutted their stuff with the band.

But in my day, we didn’t have to wait to be commanded to dance. We heard music, and we danced!

(Note: in case it’s not obvious, this post is an attempt at humor; I’m not actually upset, just surprised.)

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