Saturday, May 30, 2009

It's a gift

On the night of my last HS502 class, a friend of mine there was looking kind of beaten down. We talked a bit before class, and yes - overworked, tired, disillusioned, unsure of why she was even there. She said "I have no relationship with God left. I don't know why I'm here or what I should be doing."

My instant reply was this: sometimes a sense of duty is all you've got to keep you going. And sometimes, that's enough to see you through.  Often God is not so much concerned with our being happy as with our doing what's right.  Doing what's right, even when we're not happy about it, is evidence of faith.

Then I asked her to remember Jesus' story of the two sons and the vineyard? The Dad said to each: "go and work in the vineyard." One kid fussed and whined and refused. But later he went and worked. The other said, "Sure, Dad. Happy to." But he never went. Jesus asked: "which son did the will of his father?" Answer: the one who went (even with his bad attitude.) Jesus said: "go and do likewise."

I'm not sure it was something she could hear at the time. So later I wrote on her Facebook page:

"I've learned that joy is a gift, not an entitlement or a discipline or a character trait. It's something God gives, and when it comes it's always a delight, in part because it's a surprise -
 an unexpectedly happy one.

So if you can't act out of joy, then act out of duty till the joy returns. Do the work of your Father. That places you on the path where you know joy walks, so when it comes looking... it can find you. 
And it will."




And the point to this whole story, I guess, is: physician, heal thyself. :) I'm actually amazed that I could say all this to someone else as counsel, and with such conviction, given where I've been.

It's almost like I've learned a lesson somewhere along the way.

Maybe so.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Democracy of the Dead (and other pithy sayings)

Last night in HS502, our last lecture was a blend of two topics, both of which were fascinating to me.

The first was about the Materialist worldview which flourished in the latter 19th century. More on that in an upcoming post. I need to think on that some more.

The second half was about a group of (mostly) British writers in the early 1900s called "The Inklings", whose work reacted against the Materialist worldview. Their best known members were J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. While these two are the most famous, a contemporary of theirs, G.K. Chesterton, was also a prolific and accomplished writer.

Chesterton had a way with the turn of a phrase. He often pops up in Google's "quote of the day", and rightly so. His sayings contain a key truth, but communicate it in an off-kilter or gently satiric way. Here's a sample:

"Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to that arrogant oligarchy who merely happen to be walking around."


"The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; 
it has been found difficult and left untried."


"Women are the only realists; their whole object in life is to pit their realism against the extravagant, excessive, and occasionally drunken idealism of men."


Clever stuff, and true.

There is an organization devoted to his work, based here in town, with chapters all over. From their website, I learned that the local one meets the last Tuesday of each month at the University Club on Summit. Nice. I think I'll go in June. :)

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Dr. Feelgood

Oooh, baby!

I'm in love with a chiropractor, and we only just met yesterday. :) Yes I know, it's kind of sudden, but... so was the relief he provided. Woh.

This has happened to me before, this love-at-first-adjustment thing. But it's been awhile since I've needed treatment, and my goodness, things have changed a little since I was in that rear-ender some years ago. Gadgets haven't exactly replaced manual manipulation of the spine - that's still central to the profession - but they have enhanced the diagnostic process.

I suppose I should mention why I sought treatment. For the last two weeks or so, I've had a shooting pain running from lower back around the left hip and down the leg a bit, mostly when I stand or walk but sometimes even waking me from sleep. At the Twins/Brewers game the other night, I could hardly climb the steps to the seats, and it was tough just standing on the shuttle train to the stadium for the 10 minutes it takes to get to Hiawatha & Lake St. 

(Oh, game pictures at the bottom.. I had forgotten. :) It's the last season there, too - no more games in the Humpty-Dumpty Dome!)

What with training for the 12K last week, I didn't want to mess with my hip prior to that, or before my last follow-up appointment with the knee surgeon either, but now that those are past and the pain is still here, and a two-week driving vacation is looming... it was time.

So after the obligatory paperwork, and HIPAA notices and introductory video explaining the wonders of chiropractic, he takes his first hands-on look, pressing here and there. 

"does this hurt?" 
no... 
no... 
YOWW! YES! STOP IT! 

"oh, sorry, not intending to inflict pain, just diagnosing."


Right, doc, and I'm just giving you feedback.  Loudly.

Then he hooks me up to a scanner that detects skin temperature and finds spots that might be inflamed. After that, there are these caliper thingies that detect electrical impulses, which he places on every other pair of vertebrae, to see what might be irritated. He looks it over and says 

"see here, where you are all lit up like a Christmas tree?" 

um, yeah... 

"Sacral vertebrae. Your pelvis, buddy. We'll fix that right up."

Oh yeah? With what?



Electrical stimulation, that's what!

Yup, just like in "Young Frankenstein", but without Marty Feldman, the big coils and sparking tubes. His lovely assistant (not quite like Teri Garr, but close) puts me face down, sticks these electrodes on my posterior, and lays heavy gel pads on top of them (which were warmed in the microwave, apparently... felt like hot towels.  oooh.) so as to keep the electrodes in place. 

Then she cranks this dial and says 

"we don't want to shock you, now, but this may feel a littl..." 

AAAAAAAAAA, what are you doing!?!?! 
My butt is on fire! 

"oh, you'll get used to it in a little bit." 


Oh, sure, get used to it. At least until I smell smoke from charring flesh, I will. She should have emitted a high-pitched cackle.  It would have fit the gruesome scene.

But it did get better.   In fact, it actually got kind of ... hm!  :)

Well, anyway, in 10 minutes she's back, off come the pads and probes, although my glutes kept quivering for a minute or so afterwards. Then Nurse Shockey leaves and Dr. Feelgood takes over, flips me over on my back, crosses left leg over right and lays his whole body weight on my twisting pelvis, and POPOPOPOPOPOPOP! my whole lower spine cracked like your knuckles would if you popped them all in rapid succession. Wow, what a noise. These are bigger joints than your knuckles, and when they go, man, they're loud.

And sure enough, within 15 minutes, major relief.  :)

Back today for more of the same from my new man-crush, Doctor Feelgood, Chiropractor Deluxe. Oh yeah, and wire me up, nurse, apply the sacred fire...








Homer dome pics:


Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The last assignment

of the Spring term is done. The rough draft of the final paper made it past the review of my editor(s) yesterday, including J2 as guest editor this week.

It starts with a quote from Giles of Viterbo, 1512:

“Men must be changed by religion, not religion by men.” 

This is so often our modern tendency (which began with the great schism we call The Reformation): to adapt our religion (in theory or practice) to better fit our sensibilities, rather than submit our sensibilities to the guidance offered by our religion.

But that's not the point of the paper, I guess. The thesis is... sorta muddled, I think. :( I suppose you could say that it's this:

The Protestant approach to reform took a very different course in the 15th - 17th centuries from that of the Catholics. Reform occurred on both sides, but with very different problems and mistakes attendant to it. It has taken several hundred years to begin correcting those errors in approach.  The Ecumenical Movement of the latter 20th century (World Council of Churches and all that) is the Protestant equivalent to Vatican II, a corrective to the denominational fragmentation resulting from the Reformation, in much the same way as Vatican II was a corrective to the defensive isolationism of the Catholic Church following the Council of Trent.

I think it's articulated well, but.. the prof will have something to say about that. Either way, it's submitted, and I'm done.

In another week, it's vacation time, and, when I get back... summer school. Yeah boy!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Subtract a dog, add a kid

The tables turned a bit this week. I was expecting to get our demonic family dog (albeit somewhat mellowed at age 11) back at our house temporarily, having to keep him from barking while I'm on a conference call with India, or from drinking out of the toilet in the bathroom across from my office downstairs, until we could get him transferred safely from living with J1 to living with J2.

Well, thanks to an airline screwup (a long story), the dog never got here, is still out West with J1, and instead we have J2 here for the week while he is between residences. (another long story) Now I have a different kind of noise abatement issue to enforce next to my office and another mode of bathroom sharing to which to adapt. J2 doesn't drink out of the toilet (that I know of!), but does spend more time in there than the dog.

But, by the end of the month, J2 should be in new pet-friendly digs in a new community (with the same old pet-friendly roomie), and there will be a plan to get demon dog to J2 from J1 directly, with no layovers in our lower level. Maybe it can all happen when we're en route to see family on the East Coast in early June, and it will be completely transparent to us.

Ha. No bets offered or taken.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

exertion

.


rhythm of the run
pounding feet and heaving lungs
up another hill


.

Run, Baby, Run

and yeah, maybe walk a little. It is 12K, after all, and I'm a newbie.



Now after two successful 5K events last year, why do this? To what end?

I ask myself that all the time. And the answer I usually give to anyone else who asks (like the nurse in the orthopedic surgeon's office Friday when I was in for my last followup to knee surgery) is this: I don't do it because I like it. I do it because it keeps deterioration at bay. I am more healthy and vital when I run, even if I hate the process. And at this stage of life, being vital is extra-special good! :)

So, it is with this determination in mind that I ran on Sunday. Uphill. The whole way. Sadists. Stillwater is built like that - on bluffs above the St. Croix. And we ran them. Gorgeous, but tough to manage. Hm. Some people are that way, too. ;)





While I didn't run the whole marathon course, only 12K of it (~7.5 miles), the race website declares that I climbed 272 feet, but only went down 121 feet, so the course was a net climb of 150 feet in elevation. Ick. And I know right where all that happened. Ow ow ow.

But my buddy SQ, who ran the 12K with me (or I should say, ran the 12K as well, because the only time he was really WITH me on the course was at the starting line, the snot)



gave me a suggestion on going uphill. Lean forward into the hill, lift the knees a bit more, and pump the elbows. It worked! It was easier. Although there were two stretches where I just couldn't run the whole hill. Too long and too steep, plus too late, after I had already run the first 5K and was fatiguing. The legs faded before the lungs did, though, so I still had breath throughout and especially at the end. :) Wound up coming in about a minute-forty above my goal time, and that was all due to the hills. Grrr...



Friday night we went to pick up our starting packets (including the personalized race bibs and computer chip for your shoes) and figured out the when and where of the start.





There were four races going simultaneously, a marathon, 20 mile, half-marathon and the 12K.


























All runners started together so it was packed and it took a couple of miles for people to sort themselves out according to pace.



But what a beautiful day. 7AM Sunday dawned sunny, cool and calm, about 50 degrees. Perfect for running; by the time we were done 90 min later it was about 64. Ideal for cooling down.

The whole thing was so festive. :) The whole town was involved.





Crazy crowded and loads of runners everywhere. 500+ runners for the 12K alone, about 2,000 overall.



And all shapes and sizes, all ages and fitness levels. I initially felt out of place. I mean, what am I doing with all these good runners? But as the morning wore on, I saw people my age, people my shape, people my speed... and worse. ;) All out there pounding away at this goal, and finally I felt at home.

The crowds lining the streets were encouraging, not only with water (which I skipped) and high-fives (which I took), but with eye contact and nods that said "good job, pal... keep going."

The people were a nice distraction, too, from how awful my legs felt late in the race. It also was a nice distraction to find someone pleasant to run behind, if you get my drift, and then pace just back of that gentle sway for a half-mile or so, until another spandex-covered distraction came along. mmm.

But eventually, fatigue overtook fascination, and the only sensory input my system allowed was the rhythm of my breathing and the pounding of the pavement. Normally I stop at 10K, so around mile six I kind of shut down and ran like a drone. That is, until the finish line rounded into sight. Then, I got a burst of energy from somewhere, and (along with everyone else) sped up, chest out and grinning. Done!

Finished ahead of 112 people younger than me. That felt pretty good. Got a nice little commemorative medal for finishers, a friendly welcome from my (small) cheering section afterwards, waaaaaater, and then a pleasant downhill stroll to the car and a fresh shirt.



A debrief lunch at Smashburger three hours later, baseball game tonight. Nice. A good day. And sore, yes, but a good kind of sore.

Next up: The 10 mile run at the Twin Cities Marathon in October.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Christine Rosholt Swings

We are winding down concert week with a partial concert, one I actually had to sneak out to, in order to fulfill a past commitment.

In a prior post I had opined on this particular chanteuse's CD release concert at the Dakota. She interacted with my post, and as a result of the back and forth exchange I promised her I would come listen to her again. So tonight I left halfway through my HS502 class to catch her in a favorite and familiar venue, one where I've danced several times over the decades - the Wabasha Street Caves. It was Swing Night, and she was the featured vocalist.



And as I told her in person last night - this is her natural habitat, fronting for a big band. She was swell. :)



I only caught three numbers of hers, but from "Pennies From Heaven" to "The Lady Is A Tramp", she nailed it. Great natural swing feel, and the pitch control was right on the money. Nice, nice, nice.

The band's tempos were terrific for swing, and as every good girl singer should, in between her sets she worked the crowd, doing her share of dancing.



I didn't push the envelope and ask her for a dance, in no small part because that wasn't my purpose in coming. I was just fulfilling a commitment to hear her sing again. :)

In fact I wore shorts and sandals (not proper dancing attire) just to keep myself off the floor. I intended to be a good boy. ;)

Besides, the floor was pretty full. And I love the great variety of ages. Teenagers, with all the vitality of youth and no subtlety whatsoever...



Middle agers, smooth with smoldering sophistication - hot, hot, hot! Geriatrics, with real economy of motion, doing a lot with a little. Definitely tempted, I managed to reign in my passions and stay on the sidelines while the room whirled about me.



The place has several different "rooms", which I think were storage areas for beer and wine originally. One serves as a bar,



and another as storage, but every spare square foot of floor space also functions as a practice area for working out your moves.



All ages mixed it up. Young guys asked middle aged women to dance, and younger girls were not afraid to be seen dancing with some old guy. One of the old guys, Al, was still a smoothie. He must have been 80, and danced every dance. He was one cool papa & made every partner look good. (which, of course, made him look good - that's the paradox of the male lead in ballroom dancing. It's sacrificial; make the girl look good, and you will dance all night. In a sense it's like lovemaking: seeking her enjoyment assures your own.)



This girl must have been 60 years his junior. Even at her young age, she was no stranger to dancing, that was clear, but he still showed her a move or two. And after the second dance, he got a long and heartfelt hug. You go, Al.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Killin' fer Jesus

Good grief, talk about how your worldview shapes your actions: it sure did for Donald Rumsfeld and one of his top military aides. GQ Magazine broke this story which is enough to chill your blood. Yikes!

(thanks to Greg Boyd for his blog post alert on the subject.)

I don't think you have to be a wild-eyed bleeding-heart liberal to be repulsed by something like this. With advisors like these in his Cabinet, no wonder George W. had almost a missionary fervor about the spread of democracy into totalitarian parts of the world.

And yet... missionary fervor comes in all flavors. When you believe in the rightness of your cause, it's not hard to take the step of clothing the cause (and your actions in support of it) in garments of righteousness. It happened in the sixties by sympathetic theologians and social activists on the political left as well.  Not only did I live through it and watch, but it's also our topic this week in HS502.

Contextual theologies that emerged in those days, like Liberation Theology, Feminist Theology, Black Theology, Peace Theology (actually a Pacifist revival) and Nature Theology (ecology) often turned a blind eye to violence against persons and property in support of the "cause", as in peace activists throwing molotov cocktails.

Rabid segregationists, pro-lifers like Randall Terry's Operation Rescue, and militant gay-bashers who gave rise to hate crime legislation, were not the only ones who took the law into their own hands at times. We still have violence committed today by eco-terrorists, war protesters, PETA sympathizers, to name a few leftish causes to go with the rightish ones above.

From the KKK to the Black Panthers, what extremists on both sides agree on are the methods which become acceptable when the status quo becomes intolerable, and the validity of wrapping both cause and methods in a righteousness of one stripe or another.

Only the causes are different. Human nature is not.

But I do have a question (to which I don't have an answer): choose your definition of oppression, be it political, demographic, economic or religious... if people are being oppressed, what level of violence is justified in liberating them from said oppression?

Does anyone know?

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Taking Back Sunday




Hot night last night. And I don't mean the music. It was 92 after leaving the concert.

92. After!

But fairly dry and a beautiful evening for walking around downtown. In sandals, yet! (Good thing I got that pre-race pedicure on Monday.)

The First Avenue venue is distinctly urban and down-scale, but everybody and their up-and-coming cousin has been there, to which the stars on the walls bear witness, so it's got that "paying your dues" oeuvre to it. Good acts, too - I bought four more tickets to shows through August. :)



Ooof. No fluffy pop like Meiko last night. No sir. Yikes! This is what, back in the day, we used to call "head-banging" music. Except today it's not as counter-cultural as it used to be. In fact, I swear I've heard all this same music somewhere before, prior to turning 30. :) The first warm up act had a remarkable sonic resemblance to Aerosmith.

I had chatted up their bass player at the merch table before the show. Nice kid from Manhattan, respectful, well-spoken. He tried to explain their music, and used the word "groove". I asked if he meant a jazz influence, and he said, "well yeah I guess." The CD prices were reasonable, but I thought I'd better listen first. Um... no thanks!

Eeek. No "groove" there that I could find. Not very approachable music. Besides, I know J2 has CDs of two of the bands in a shoebox somewhere. Hey, any music is more approachable when it's free.

Each of the three bands (TBS + Anberlin and Envy on the Coast) had essentially the same ensemble structure and stage presence. I'm sure aficionados could appreciate the subtle differences, but to me it seemed like the same band with three different changes of clothes. ;) Each band had a tall and lanky lead singer who whipped the mic and stand around and stood on top of amps to roil the crowd. There were two guitarists, a bassist and drummer, plus a utility player who roamed varying instruments, including keys.



At times the guitars were played in a horizontal crouch, with the spine parallel to the ground, eyes fixed on the floor. Other times, the head was snapped forcefully and rythmically. Other times, much hopping in place ensued along with jumping laterally (at times covering half the stage). Prancing and strutting are also good words to describe it.



The crowd was quite a bit younger on average. I'd say the mode of ages was 22. It was an all ages show (which is why the doors opened at 5!) and the mezzanine (where alcohol was served) was restricted to those over 21, and is where I hung out. Muuuuch safer up there. :)



On the main floor, the crowd was as energetic as the stage performers and several people close to the stage were shaking up bottles of club soda and spraying them into the crowd. After a while, some of those folks made their way upstairs dripping wet. Funny.

I did finish off another book in my pile for my HS502 research paper between sets (and maybe even during).



I must have looked harmless (which is oh so true!) in my reading glasses perusing a book on the Council of Trent, because some barely legal girl asked me to guard her Corona while she went to the bathroom, saying "you look like a nice guy - be sure nobody puts any roofie coladas in it, 'kay?"

Roofie coladas? Honestly, she didn't strike me as the kind of girl who would need a lot of chemical encouragement in that department. She was in the market, I think. For someone more... dangerous. :P

There were quite a few girls there who had on their "hunting clothes" (and shoes. you know the kind, ones that send a certain message...) They looked hungry for fresh game. Put another 15 years on them and the right word to describe them would be "cougar".

And it seemed to me that there was a remarkable amount of body art and surgical enhancement in view on girls not yet 25.

Remarkable in that so much permanent body alteration is being done prior to full emotional and social maturity taking hold.

Remarkable also in that they aren't cheap.

Where does the discretionary income come from to afford those tats and ti.. oops, sorry, body modifications they're sporting? Hard to imagine Mom & Dad forking over $5,000 for a new pair for Kaitlyn as a H.S. graduation present, and a complementary $1,000 full-shoulder tat to match the $500 one on her lower back she got for her 16th...

Kids these days.

Parents these days!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Meiko



Ah, a warm Spring evening at a sidewalk cafe', sipping coffee and munching on... calamari?

All right, maybe that's a little off. You don't "munch" calamari, you grind on it, and with coffee isn't it supposed to be biscotti in the first place? But it was still nice. Since the concert was at The Varsity, just around the corner from the Loring Pasta Bar (who happens to have the best calamari in the Cities), I thought why not go early and indulge? :)



It turned out to be graduation day in Dinkytown with lots of U of M grads and families celebrating nearby by eating out someplace cool, and The Loring Pasta Bar is about as cool as it gets while still being inter-generational in its appeal.



And what made it even cooler was that there was a tango band playing - Sunday nights are tango night at the Loring. And several couples were showing how it was done.



Not to mention that tango music wafting out through the open doors made sitting outside with coffee and ... um, calamari ... so much special-er. Almost didn't want to go see the concert. :)



But I'm glad I did. The opening act was worth the price of the whole evening. Wow. Cory Chisel is some young guy from Wisconsin who's been touring with Meiko, and he is a cross between Neko Case and Swell Season. He has a girl singer on keys, and together they have a Glen Hansard/Marketa Irglova vocal feel, while doing alt-country material, complete with pedal steel. Swell.





Nothing from him at the merch table, though. They'd sold out his stuff three shows earlier. I can see why. But, a new CD comes out in September, and I am all over it when it does.

Definitely NOT date night this time around. There were lots of girls in pairs - modal age about 26, I'd say. Post-college working girls mostly.

I don't think Meiko is much of a draw with the guys, so I suppose the girls said to each other something like "I don't think Josh is interested in the show - you wanna go together?"

Meiko was... predictable. Fluffy pop, a'la Colbie Caillat. She's still getting her stage presence chops down - a little stiff. But Cory Chisel made up for it. The audience didn't know what to expect, I think, and weren't really paying attention. After each song, though, they started to a little more. And by the time they did a four-part country harmony version of Rufus Wainright's "One Man Guy", the place erupted, and Cory owned the crowd.

That's why I like the Varsity: not a lot of huge names but some really good surprises. Add to that cheap tickets and drinks, in a cool part of town, and you've got a great night out. Even unaccompanied. :)

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Keane

Best gig this year. :)



And a nice start to "concert week" (trying to stay occupied while D is on the West Coast visiting J1 and old friends. A concert every other night is... just about right.)

It was raining buckets when I got there, 15 min before doors opened, and the huge line outside was all in rain slickers and umbrellas, so... just stayed in the car and read, listening to Over The Rhine (a new band fave) for 45 minutes until the rain and the line had moved on.



Later on, the night cleared up and the back porch (for smokers and people like me wanting some fresh air) was pleasant.



The openers were Helio Sequence, a band from Portland,



and Mat Kearney, a singer/songwriter best known for "Nothing Left To Lose" and "Breathe In Breathe Out".



Both were solid warm-up acts, enjoyable and unremarkable. So I managed to use that time to knock off one of the books I'm using as research for my HS502 paper, and visit the merch table. Nice.





But from the audience's perspective (and mine!) Keane was the raison d'etre for the evening and for being there, and the crowd response made that clear. They are not a guitar-heavy band, much more keyboard driven. In fact, they had stretches with two sets of keys, drums and nothing else. Also it's a band with a lead singer who simply sings, playing guitar only occasionally. But he sings so well! What a great clear voice. Full but not overwhelming sound, happy & sunny stage presence, a cool backdrop (like a great big quilt that matches their lastest album cover). They opened with The Lovers Are Losing, then did Everybody's Changing to extended cheers. The third song in was Bend and Break, and by that time the crowd was dialed in.

When they hit the opening chords of Somewhere Only We Know, the place went nuts. (As did I. During that number, I had one of those rare moments at a concert where I actually close my eyes and let the whole experience wash over me, disconnecting briefly from the cares of life, thinking of happier things. I rarely do that, and when it happens it's marvelous.) Such good music. Even their darker songs like We Might As Well Be Strangers are in major keys and end hopefully. My kind of band. :)

Very cool club, love the decor.





It was not nearly as crowded as I would have thought, and quite a bit of seating available (away from the viewing rails) if you got sick of standing. There was lots (and I mean lots) of security, as they have a bit of a reputation that they are trying to overcome. But with this crowd and lineup, I can't imagine there being trouble. Yes, it was a young crowd, relatively speaking, but past their rowdy years. I would guess the mode of the age distribution to be about 31.

And it was definitely date night. :) Many, many couples in evidence and not as many singles trolling for opportunities. It's the kind of music that appeals well to both male and female tastes, especially post-college. But while both the men and women were rocking out to the music of Keane, I really became aware of the gender difference in how they moved (danced-in-place) to the music. It was obvious.

The men tended to bounce at the knees in time to the beat, and nod their heads as well. Very much a straight up and down motion. The women, though... they rotated hips and shoulders around the spinal column. Where the men would pulse on each beat, the women would oscillate on every two beats: two beats to rotate the left hip out, two beats to rotate back to the right hip, shoulders lightly following. And in the meantime, one hand went to the hair (two hands if they were really into it) and with their fingers they would either stroke their head or run fingers through their hair. I had the feeling watching this that they might have preferred someone else's hands in their hair, but.. their own would do in a pinch. ;) Anyway, the basic theme was: men - linear and focused, women - circular and intimate. And I won't begin to get into describing the gender-specific behavior of couples moving to the music. Decorum suggests silence on the matter.

My personal style of moving to music in a concert, however, is a blend of sorts. No standard male bouncing for me, just minor knee bending, and that only in support of a back-and-forth sway akin to the black gospel choir model. No female rotation of the hips, either, but rather only of the shoulders (as befits a male), in a 2-beats-left-shoulder-open, 2-beats-square-to-center, 2-beats-right, 2-beats-center style. It's that squaring up to center for 2 beats in between that keeps it from being a feminine oscillation like a sine wave. And absolutely NO hands to the hair. Aaack. Waaaay too girly. They stay safely tucked away, thumbs hooked in jean pockets. :)
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