It’s been 159 days since my family started quarantine.
The litany of events we have experienced in that short amount of time, both domestic and world-wide, resembles a ludicrously bad disaster movie plot.
A late-nite, after the bars have closed, watch it in the dark while eating cold cereal out of the box kind of movie. That you have a hard time remember all the plot points the next day because – was I drunk?!?
Was there really a firenado *and* an in-land hurricane? Thousands and thousands of people marching in the streets during a pandemic? Paramilitary guys with American flags stapled to sticks that they then used as weapons against counter-protesters?
Hang on, did they also close post offices and take away mail boxes to keep people from voting? That can’t be a thing. Can it?
And empty store shelves, the hoarding of toilet paper, pandemic-deniers refusing to mask, and businesses closing and the economy collapsing … totally unrealistic.
Who green-lighted this mess? Wait, it was that Snakes on a Plane guy wasn’t it?
Coping with stress (#CovidCoping) has become a sub-genre of advertising, marketing, blogging and every other medium. There are whole categories of hashtags devoted to #CovidBaking, #CovidCrafting, #CovidPuzzles, coloring, yoga, cooking, work from home (which is now WFH), and managing children.
And of course wine, wine, and more craft cocktails/fancy beer than is probably healthy.
We are not big TV watching people over here at Bougie Central (didnt even own a TV for 20 years or so), but movies are a bit of an obsession. More so now during quarantine.
In between the expected foreign movies and obscure B&W content on the Criterion Channel, lives a movie genre that truly sustains me, rejuvenates me and gives me hope.
The dance movie.
The Washington Post had an article about dance movies with an apologetic title of “Best Bad Dance Movies”. No such thing in my book.
Watching dance movies is all about pleasure. No guilt. No apologies.
I know I am forever “that white girl” as much as want to be a Fly Girl, and I don’t care. I’m a lousy dancer and a lousy singer and it doesn’t interfere with my fun one bit.
“Dance like no ones looking” implies there is something to be ashamed of. Nope.
Dance because you can.
Dance because everyday above ground is a good day.
Or at least watch a dance movie.
PS: I have been neglecting writing for pleasure, this blog & my ever-under-construction book, even before coronavirus in some misguided attempt to “focus seriously on work”. The reality is all the ways we express ourselves contribute to “our work”.
I am going to dance more, sing more, and write more. No guilt.