Whether you can drive cars fast, shoot guns, have lots of money, or jump out of airplanes don't mean nothin'. You ain't no man until you can dance the tango.
Unfortunately, I cannot dance a tango.
(Ed: that only means one thing: don't give me some wimpy whiny sob story, get off your dead ass and learn it.)
I'm not whining and I am willin'. Dance classes found me because of an unusual incident, many of which seem to pop up in my life, and you can learn a Foxtrot or any of the other boring wedding reception dances. I found it a pleasant exercise as how can there be a complaint about dancing with a dozen different women in an evening, none of which results in angry boyfriends.
For rock dancing, hip hop dancing, or whatever the current thang, all you need is to wiggle your ass and wave your hands in the air. When you really know the moves, then you can do some stylin'. It's important for another reason as Paul Delph reminds us always, "I can't trust a God who can't dance."
Taking dance classes may seem like a stupid and boring thing but consider further. If you're trying to dance with your girlfriend and you step on her toes, maybe she will punch you. At least she will if she has any spirit. You have to treat them right, son. Now consider you're dancing a Foxtrot with your grandmother. You don't know the very simple steps and you step on her toes. Dude, you stepped on your grandmother's toes. You're never allowed to dance with anything except a broom ever again.
Also, the tango scene in "True Lies" is the only time in his life Arnold Schwarzenegger looked cool. If it can work for him, it can work for anyone.
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