It has been well documented in past blogs that I have a hatred of flying, climbing walls, the French and …………….dancing. And is the thought of the later that has finally made me decide not to attend my high school reunion in December………………also the fact that I don’t want to spend the next 20 years in prison for the murder of the David Pattern, Shane Ibrahim and Terry Green the three complete bastards who made my life and those of all my friends school days ones we wish to forget.
I seem to be spending time reminiscing about my life and I hope that’s OK with you until next week when the excitement starts in the States.
Anyway, back to dancing. For me, and many others, the hatred of dance comes directly from the school disco. These days it seems all teenagers want to bump and grind with each other as they dance to soulful ballads by J Z, Beeonsay and Justin Trousersnake. In my day dancing only involved skidding across the dance floor on two knees hoping that when you came to a stop it would be right under Sally Poole’s skirt. That, I didn’t mind but when at the school disco Spandau Ballet’s “True” was played by DJ Donald who was also the art teacher ………..I ran to the buffet to shove another bag of chips down my throat all washed down with the fruit punch which had 3000 tons of sugar in it and is probably the reason I am diabetic today.
