What I really love about the internet is the unbridled joy that is on offer – in particular, groups of men dancing.
That might sound a little odd, but please bear with me.
There is no denying it, men love to dance. Whether it’s Irish dancing, New Zealand hakas or crazy routines, the way to get a man to move appears to be undercover in a group.
They are flash mob crazy. So no more will we expect to see them loitering at the sides of the dancefloor looking sheepishly at their shoes. The time has come for men to stand up and take to the metaphorical stage.
The key though, as demonstrated by last week’s Norwegian Navy cadets’ performance of Uptown Funk, is group movement. Understanding what needs to be done, and how to do it, and making sure the safety comfort blanket of other people doing the same is around them.
While this is a step forward for the male species, it is by no means the end result. We will have to keep plugging away until they’re happy to strut a few moves on their own.
It is human expression at its most tribal, utilising the body, the voice and the power of (roughly) synchronised movement
But what we can do now is celebrate the joy of movement and impress upon every one of us that we should all dance, for at least one song a day.
There is nothing quite like dancing for letting go, lifting the spirit and really living in the moment.
When I worked at a secondary school, the most memorable and outstanding moments came in group dance – a whole year group (mixed) learning moves and giving it their all in a sweaty hall full of excitement, energy and singing.
It is human expression at its most tribal, utilising the body, the voice and the power of (roughly) synchronised movement.
For the moment, forget the maths, English and sciences (the so-called STEM) for lifting a child out of the mundane. It’s dance all the way. And who wouldn’t want to give children that joy and the ability to help themselves achieve happiness and satisfaction?
The Norwegian Navy cadets give me hope that even in the most rigid of environments, there is time and space for dance.
CLEAN FOR THE QUEEN FEELS LIKE A SORT OF PEASANT SERFDOM
Clean for the Queen has really got my goat. Like she’s about to visit every community in the country and have a look at the environment.
Prince Charles strikes me as being more interested, but I don’t want to go out and clean for any member of the royal family.
It feels like some type of peasant serfdom being pushed down our throats.
Don’t I pay a variety of taxes for people to clean the environment?
Or have they all gone in the latest austerity measures?
You know what?
I regularly take a bin bag out with me and pick up litter on beaches, in parks and in fields.
I’m not doing that for the Queen, I’m doing that for my community and the people who live in it.
IT’S TIME FOR ME TO FILL A BLACK BIN LINER A DAY FOR 30 DAYS
It’s time for a black bin liner a day for 30 days.
My house has been accumulating junk and now we are awash in a sea of paper and other assorted items.
According to current thinking, we will reach a tipping point where we just can’t take any more stuff in our lives.
My attic is full and the drift of goods is gently seeping through the house.
In order to tackle this, I’m aiming for the one bin bag a day approach of getting rid – whether to recycling, charity or the tip.
First up? My ‘thin’ clothes as they won’t be useful to me again – ever.
Second, the endless bits of material that are never going to form themselves miraculously into a quilt.
And third, my high heels as I’ve never managed to walk in them anyway.