I’ve been dancing at a lindy hop event all weekend and learning less commonly danced jazz-era dances. As a result of all of this dancing, I have reached the following conclusions:

1. People who lived and danced in the 1920s through 1940s had much stronger quad and calf muscles that we do now. (Not really.)
2. Jazz dances absolutely constitute aerobic exercise. The collegiate shag is akin to running in place… which makes me think that people who lived and danced in the 1920s through 1940s had more resilient knees. (Not really—furthermore, the association between knee “wear and tear” injury and running is weak. Just to be clear.)
3. Though not a girly girl, I can wear a crinoline underneath a dress with minimal awkwardness. I rather like crinolines, actually, and I was pleasantly surprised to learn that it doesn’t cause problems while dancing.
4. Many men can tolerate heat well. Several men wore three-piece suits to the “formal” dance and there were the scattered few that wore heavy zoot suits and tuxedos (!). The layers hide the sweat well, but come on—that seems positively stifling!

One of the biggest conclusions I learned, though, is how frankly idiotic we are all willing to look in the pursuit of learning how to dance.

The man who arguably knows the most about the history of jazz dance (Lance Benishek) taught us the steps used in a dance called “the Big Apple” (has nothing to do with New York City; here’s a choreographed version, which is better known than the actual called dance). Related dances are “the Little Apple” and “Peelin’ the Peach”). He also taught a little bit of the collegiate shag (above) and the 1920’s Charleston (see the remark about the quad muscles above). The Big Apple is a called dance, much like square dancing (”Swing your partner!” “Do-si-do!” etc.), and some (many?) of the moves called are goofy.

I’m talking things like acting like Frankenstein (complete with screaming, etc.), playing leapfrog, marching around in a line/circle as if part of a train, and (gently) kicking people (leads) in the butt. Or hopping around on one foot while grasping the other, yelling “ow” as if the foot in hand was on fire (”hot foot”).

These are behaviors that most adults are not willing to do in the company of other adults. We all look very, very ridiculous. (… which, admittedly, is the fun of it.)

This is due to social conditioning, of course—the social context requires us to all behave this way. We agree to follow the directions of the teacher and, actually, if any of us refused to play leapfrog during the dance, that person would receive looks of surprise, if not scorn. It’s the social norm to participate and, in this case, look silly.

If someone took photographs of us hopping around like cartoon characters, it could be highly embarrassing… but because we were all learning the Big Apple, I don’t think anyone would balk at photographs of the self approaching the camera like Frankenstein (”it’s part of the dance!”). And it is impressive to see how we all comply with the directions to do these things. Lance actually had us repeat “hot foot” simply because he was so amused with how funny we all looked.

Once participants buy into the idea—any idea—people will do anything. Getting the commitment may be the most difficult part of the deal.

Classes are done, my legs are sore, my back aches a bit (and people laugh at me when I note that I am aging…), I’m tired… and there’s one more dance tonight. And my friends are putting pressure on me to go (as a reaction to my ambivalence). The social context continues to exert its power.