In playing in The Flyin' Column, (the US group, not the rebel band from Ireland, we sung that song years ago) I have seen girls dance, become Moms, and have daughters who dance.

    I've seen families I know who have nothing left at the end of the week go out and support their daughters dancing. I have seen well off kids give other kids shoes to do the next dance in. I've seen Moms and Dad scream at the girls because they are out of step and Moms and Dads cheer as madly for third place as they do for first.

    I've seen petulant little girls throw fits false eyelashes being loose and the girl next to her give her a Molly Wop to get the whiner back on track.

    Dancing is little league for girls and boys who dance. It comes with all the best and worse parts of the experience. Moms, no longer fit enough to get their feet off the ground, dancing on in the form of their lithe children. Dad's talking in corners at the Hibernian's wondering if their son the dancer isn't, "That way?" but supporting him at the Feis whether he is or not.

    Dancing is what it is. I hate the wigs and the neon mini skirts and the false eyelashes. I'd rather see bluejeans, a T shirt, and a pair of hard soles. It will take a movie with a bunch of kids doing their best with nothing and winning against a bunch prima donas in patterned dresses to turn this around.   Bad News Bears do Step Dance.    If I never hear Cotton Eyed Joe again I won't mind. (I can't tell you how many people I know who think it is an Irish trad tune)

    I hate the win or die attitude of some of the instructors and the parents. But I love the kids who dance for the sake of the dance.


Don