November 23rd, 2024.

November 23rd found me over at Sandy Spring Museum running sound for a traditional Turkish dance party. There are worse ways to spend your time. As I was watching the bands play and the dancers dance I wondered what it was that was so DIFFERENT about what I was seeing – beyond the combination of mouth harp and lute and the lack of one of the bass strings – and it occurred to me that with a lot of dance that I’m USED to (and I’m not talking about Dance As Art, but like… social dancing) it’s VERY rooted in mating dance. It’s expressing “hey there, I fancy you, let’s be physically close together in a way that might be frowned upon in other public situations”. And some dances endeavour to impress with knowing the moves, or that here’s a moment where we can snuggle and express sweet nothings, or… check this move out… be impressed by my strength. Check THIS move out. No imagine that… horizontally?

This is much more shouty. I imagine there’s a lot of “oh god, how do we stay warm this winter” to it. The music swings back and forth with call and response and rhythms that get almost metal. There’s so much joy to it.

But I can’t even imagine like… fancying someone and then you find out THIS is what they do with their weekends? Liiiiike… I’ve tried to date dancers. It’s hawt. But then they want YOU to dance. And… I’m bad at that.

Many relationships died under the thunder of rob’s flaming boots and bruised feets….

Came home to my non-dancin’ wife and my non-dancin’ cat. It was something of a relief. I almost immediately retired to the Lair and mixed down the audio and headbanged. Which is it’s own thing.

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