Dancing: A thing of the past

grindingI have always had a passion for history. In my lifetime, I have taken American, European, and World history. I’ve studied under some of the greatest historians that Glenbrook South High School has to offer. These men and women have enlightened me to all sorts of people, places, events and trends. Everyone from Martin Van Buren to Mina Shankar and everything from the Scientific Revolution to Unofficial St. Patrick’s Day (really more similar than you would think- just a lot of people getting trashed and throwing stuff out of their windows). But last night, I was once again reminded that there is a certain trend that I must have missed.

I attended a particular event last night where dancing was involved. This was fine with me because I am an excellent dancer; I specialize in the Electric Slide and the Charleston. Unfortunately I was unable to showcase either of these dances last night. To my dismay, the only “dancing” that I witnessed last night was “grinding.”

Call me a loser, a nerd, a jock, whatever you like. I just don’t understand grinding. To me, grinding seems like a convenient way to skip certain pleasantries. Back in the day, we used to talk to and interact with our dancing partners before we had sex with them.

I’m not sure when “grinding” replaced dancing, but I’m figuring that I was either doing homework or watching The Office. In any event, I am severely disappointed. Not only was dancing fun, it was appropriate for kids under the age of 18. Now, we’re stuck with grinding, which is certainly not dancing and at best could be characterized as a sorry excuse for intercourse.

While I do abhor grinding and I think it does to dancing what reality shows do to television, I have come to accept it. Like my colleague Peter, I refuse to descend into player hating. I do realize that “grinding” is probably the best thing to happen to the condom industry since Viagra. I also realize that I alone cannot stop this revolution. Yes, I may stand on the dance floor and flank my arms around in an attempt to dance, but I am no Nate Beasley. Even if I did have the dance moves that Nate Beasley so wonderfully displays, I would not be able to halt this oncoming train.

This is the same thing I said about prior bewildering trends, including Warheads, the Backstreet Boys and computers. I could try to avoid them and pretend they didn’t exist, but that would be unrealistic. Through these fads I have realized that there are some things that you just have to accept because they are not going away (see: the Scary Movie series).

Thus, I have come to one final and slightly frightening solution: if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.


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