Curmudgeons Don't Dance

I have been bugged to address a fear near and dear to the heart (such as it is) of every curmudgeon: dancing. My difficulty has been that the article would be short - we don't. Period. Next question. 

Women, not unlike my Sainted wife, LOVE to dance. They are so desperate to dance that in high school, they danced with each other - a practice unlikely amongst guys.

My wife remembers the nuances of the Wah-Wah-Tussy vs. the Slide vs. the Swim vs. the Fly vs. the Mashed Potatoes, etc., etc. It fair boggles the mind that this knowledge actually still occupies her brain cells. It also boggles the minds of ALL curmudgeons that these dances actually differed.

When pressed, curmudgeons approach the dance floor with great trepidation and try to appear to be doing some sort of thing long enough to satisfy our mates. All the lessons we learned in Mrs. Claypool's dance classes are absolutely useless here.  She, along with my Mom, assumed there would be foxtrots and waltzes in my future. Clearly they missed the proverbial Macarena boat.

So did curmudgeons. "Gosh, honey, I would love to join you - do you suppose the band knows a good foxtrot?"