In the past, social dancing was a major means by which young people would meet each other. Boys and girls together would often go to dance school to practice.
I was in Las Vegas and went to a dance club recently, just to look around. I happened to have a free ticket, which cost $23 otherwise. I didn’t really like dance clubs much when I was younger, but I can appreciate them. In the 1990s, dance music was disposable bubblegum but at least you could dance to it, and people did dance to it, enthusiastically. The music at this club sounded like raw sewage being poured over a pile of rusted scrap metal, accompanied by mortar fire. Nobody was actually dancing. Yes, at a Vegas dance club with a $23 door, nobody was dancing. They were standing around, on the dance floor, like corporate cocktail hour, but not talking, of course, because that was impossible.
So I left the club and went to see the free live band, which was pretty good. People were dancing — people of all ages. There were two people (who didn’t know each other), who looked in their early sixties. When the live band began playing some late-1970s disco tunes, both of them started into these elaborate, sinuous movements — the ghosts of 1970s disco.
I think these days we have nothing left to lose, so we might as well being to learn how to dance properly again.
Other times, it doesn’t go so well.
Cornerstone 