What's with the title?

Well, I'm a hell of a dancer.  Why be modest? It's true.  Earlier incarnations of this blog were titled "Predatory Awareness of My Hips" .  I changed it after I realized it seemed to draw readers who were looking for something a little racier than I intended.  

It's a long story but sufficed to say my roots are in the Caribbean.  We dance a lot in the Caribbean.  We use our hips when we dance: a lot.  Howver, because of geo-political situations I do not have the time to detail, I am as much a child of international migration as I am Canadian or "Caribbean" (I hate that word, makes it sound like the whole region is one homogenous culture and country).  

I grew up in some of  the whitest parts of Ontario Canada.  Trying to dance to Nirvana and NIN in high school after being weaned on a diet of The Mighty Sparrow and other calypso and soca legends made for a very noticeable brown girl on the dance floor. I appreciated all sorts of music, just can't figure out how to dance to it any other way than how I was taught during the many crowded and hot dance parties my parents had in their basement with all of their childhood friends; with my hips swivelling, my hands raised in joyful abandon and feeling the rhythm with my whole soul.   The looks of mutual confusion that followed after my first tentative steps into a mosh pit ensured I never tried again, and certainly wasn't invited.

A dear friend of mine was trying to explain to one of her friends the difference in my dancing compared to the 'white guy shuffle' (beer bottle in hand, nervously shifting from one foot to the next, and NEVER raising one's hands above shoulder height).  She was having a hard time explaining herself, so I stepped in.

"You see, I have what is commonly referred to as a predatory awareness of my hips."  The phrase, said in drunken earnestness, has haunted me ever since. 

But on reflection, it seems a reasonable way to approach most facets of life.  With a sense both of rhythm and abandon...a kind of predatory awareness. 

© Copyright 2004 Thrill of a Deadline.. Last update: 6/10/2004; 11:47:16 PM.