Warning: Old Man Dancing

Yesterday I ventured out to an all-day dance music mini-festival. It took me a little while to get in the mood but once I got going I danced the last five hours straight and, well, this morning I’m a little sore.

Music-wise, the tent I gravitated to was playing bass-led deep house of the coolest kind, which of course was also full of the youngest, coolest crowd and a smidgen of attitude.

“Hi, my name’s Debbie and can I ask…why are you here????”

She must have been all of 17 and it was a good question. My answer was simply that it was because I really loved being there. My life would have been far more difficult if I had not been born with dimples and a smile that, when I’m in a good mood, is infectious and could defuse a bomb.

She wanted a picture of me with her and her mates on her phone, and she was not the only one. I later caught a couple of people videoing me on the sly and I half wonder if I might turf up on YouTube. Even some of the guys on the more aggressive end of the spectrum proffered nods of respect and approval.

As the evening wore on and I did some wandering, people were getting more relaxed, and I got my fair share of “Awright mate, good to see you man” shoulder biffs, unsolicited high fives, and a man with a propeller on his head shook my hand. I bailed out a desperate girl who had quit smoking with a fag and got a kiss on the top of my head for my trouble.

And all because it’s hard to object to anyone who is so obviously having a good time. I always could light up a dance floor when I had a mind to and age does not diminish that, nor the pleasure in doing so. I did more grinning yesterday than I have for a long, long time.

It was also nice to see that one of the reasons why I like this music…the egalitarianism of it, the sense that everybody is welcome, is alive and kicking 30 years on from when it all started.

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