Phrases go in and out of our collective vernacular. It’s just the way it is. Park as in Billy and Jody parked on their date is luckily (or unluckily, if you’d like to explore the modern-day alternatives) is pretty far out in the celestial graveyard of words and phrases. (While we’re at it far out is right there with it.)
The phrase: To go dancing has undergone a number of transformations over the course of the century, from proper beginnings, eventually devolving to the disco.
I’ve heard the phrase uttered by my peers on a few occasions, but its interpretation is fairly distorted in relation to what logic would have you believe it actually means. As far as I can tell, from my marginally scientific observations, going out dancing translates to a lot of bass, booze and well, sweating on, and being sweat on by, strangers.
I’ll admit that my experience is relatively limited. I’ve only made a few attempts to partake in what ended up being incredibly unfortunate outings, but I think I can safely grasp the concept. There is very little dancing involved, or, that is, what I’ve come to understand as dancing. Wordsmyth Dictionary defines dance (v) as “to move the body in a rhythmic sequence, usually in a prescribed fashion and usually to music.” Even with this broad definition, what I’ve seen doesn’t come close to what is
Not to put down the “dancing” prevalent in clubs/parties/filthy frat house basements where even the walls seem to be sweating. Everyone is entitled to express themselves —and if this is your idea of fun, rock on, sister.
I just sort of wish dancing, in the pseudo traditional sense, was still socially relevant for people younger than my parents. The closest our generation gets to organized dance is Soulja Boy —which I learned, of course. I’m not saying that I want mass reform on the dance floor, with strict rules, etc. etc. I am a great believer in interpretive dance. But it seems like we don’t even have access to the steps, and if you are among the few who do, you are most likely sorely out of place. Learning to dance is more of a novelty than a daily activity, which is perhaps why one of the few places it is preserved are weddings. Oh, and video games.
My mom’s generation could go out dancing and expect to actually dance —even if it was disco. Today’s equivalent seems to be an extension of an eighth grade dance, where I was more of the act-out-the-words-to-an-Avril-Lavigne-song-in-the-corner-with-my-friends sort of person anyway. And concerts are just a matter of not getting injured by that lone kid skanking all over the place to a song that doesn’t merit it or avoiding that couple making you progressively more and more uncomfortable.
I danced (tap, ballet, pointe, jazz, etc. etc.) for about ten years and have never been able to “dance” socially. Not that I fault society entirely for this —however tempting —but I do wish there was an outlet for dancing—with coordination, steps, some sense of rhythm —that didn’t involve a Wii controller.