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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Lapsed contra dancer rediscovers his happy place I tip figurative hat to the late Cathy Robertson, longtime (lifetime) Thomas Paine Unitarian Church member, who unwittingly and quite casually made mention of contra dancing, which inopportunely, inextricably, and inaccurately linkedin to The Contras who were various United States backed and funded right-wing rebel groups that were active from 1979 to 1990 in opposition to the Marxist Sandinista Junta of National Reconstruction Government in Nicaragua, which had come to power in 1979 following the Nicaraguan Revolution. After a hiatus of scores of years, I in tandem with the missus returned to a venue March 14th, 2024 which Thursday night dances currently held at Commodore John Barry Arts and Cultural Center 6815 Emlen Street, Philadelphia, PA 19119 that not only served as palliative per bashfulness, but even remedied yours truly resigned himself living social as a Norwegian bachelor farmer. Life as a high school wallflower served me analogous as The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do without any budding female friendships until lo… a gent tulle mandate from my late mother uprooted me from mein kampf familiar bedrock level road terrain (analogous regarding how a duck takes to water - meaning I identified said aerobic rather cardiovascular workout as an inherent quick study), which venue offered a groundswell of interpersonal opportunities (preferably with persons of female gender) to blossom forth into golden sterling resplendent rod of natural equipoise (this an unbiased opinion) and balance with freestyle élan begetting improvisational swinging motions unchained from the moors of formality and lit figurative Saint Elmo’s Sesame Street fiery dance allowing, enabling and providing this shy awkward self during his young (emerging) adulthood to cast away four ever thy self embroidered handsome straight as an arrow naturally high as a kite young guy buzzing like a yellow jacket, thus liberating spontaneity that je ne sais quoi joie vivre clamoring headlong toward venus from healthy pistol packing overflowing bin laden well nigh testosterone erupting male member toward opposite gender, whereby bravado donned as key to hoe field of whet dreams fostering initial albeit late blooming roll in the hay hormonally rooted rutting squeal. Back in the day, (when genders binary) with nary a care in the webbed wide world I ate, breathed and lived for contra dancing experiencing social anxiety and profusely sweaty palms every mile of the way (twenty door to door dash) from (at that time) 324 Level Road to then designated site at Summit Presbyterian Church 6757 Greene Street, Philadelphia, PA 19119, where love's labor lost found yours truly engaged in pitched losing battles introducing yours truly (even after expiating my carnal sins) to romantic liabilities incurred while displaying comedy of errors, when risking a overtures to ask an attractive woman to be my partner not only for one dance, but also to explore the parameters of fun two people can experience while wearing clothes.
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