Archive for June, 2007

“Can you even hear the music?”
-The words of a future ex-girlfriend on our very first date during our very first dance.

Part of being spiritual is being true to yourself.  William Shakesbeer once said, “Do what feels right even if you suck at it. You owe no loyalty to ANYONE but your own soul and that is the most sacred form of loyalty.”

On that note, I’d like you to know that I’m afflicted with a horrible ability to dance. Notice that I didn’t say an “inability” because I have an “ability” to dance poorly. There is a difference. Some people don’t like to dance and if they must, they move quietly and in an almost ashamed fashion. But when I dance, I like to think I have some dance moves which I perform proactively and supposedly “terribly.”

When I was at a 9th grade party, my Calculus teacher Mr. Desmond Cannon caught a glimpse of my dance moves. I don’t know why my calculus teacher was at our party but I just remember him being there. I was kicking my legs in the air in what he called “the donkey kick.” Mr. Cannon told me, “You have some sweet moves.” I believed him for 3 years and asked him toward the end of my senior year, “Mr. Cannon did you really think I was a good dancer?” Cause y’know there are a few things you want to do before you finish high school like kiss the hot girl, tell the bully to f-k off, and answer the questions you’ve pondered through the zit-pocked, hormone driven, pube sprouting wonder years.

Mr Cannon’s response: a chuckle and an “of course not mate.”  I honestly thought for those 4 years that I was a good dancer. Granted, when you depend on the compliment of a 40 year old white Australian man to determine good dance moves, it’s no wonder I didn’t kiss a girl until my senior year of high school.

Anyway, I’ve kept track of my various dance moves thru the years just so you know what doesn’t work:

1. Raise the Roof
This is usually a move reserved for a hip/hop or rap song. It’s where I lift two flattened hands to the sky, palms facing up. And repeat lifting the palms up and down and up and down. It’s ok if you are a rapper but a red-headed jewish kid has no business raising the roof.

2. The Donkey Kick
This is where I shake my arms and alternate lifting up a lower leg–sorta like a horse lifts a hoof. So it’s 1.2.3–lift a hoof. 1,2,3–life the other hoof. I can’t believe I was so lost and dorky that I actually did this. Granted, I also trusted my mom’s advice that I should blow dry my hair leading to some kids at school calling me Poof.

3. The Sideways Fist Pump
Evidently  I invented this move at the Gypsy Kings concert in Atlanta in 1996. This involves a thrusting of the closed fist forward, swiveling the fist to face down, and brining back into the body. It’s kinda like an upward fist in the air as if to say, “F-K yah! Rock on!” But the fist goes sideways and parallel to the ground instead as if to say “Heck Yes!” (Legs are bent to protect the back and the jaw maintains an overbite)

4. That Guy
This is where I totally think I’m rocking out rhythmically and powerfully. And the people around me must be thinking “this guy can really dance.” But when the song ends, I still dance for a few awkward moments before screeching on the “brakes.” Those few awkward seconds feel like an eternity as I try to pretend like “of course I know the song is over.” But when I bring my spastic body to a grinding halt, it’s a dead giveway. Everyone notices “that guy” still dancing when the song is over.

5. The Stomp
This is when I truly bottom out. The Stomp is where I’m dancing in a club or bar and I accidentally stomp on a woman’s foot. What more is there to say? Not smooth at all. The woman is keeled over in pain and she definitely doesn’t want me helping her. Do I keep dancing? My moves are so bad they hurt people both literally and figuratively.

“First Law of Socio-Genetics: Celibacy is not hereditary.” -Anonymous

Yogis have different reputations in the general population. They are thought to be flexible, spiritual, skinny. Thanks to Sting, yogis are also known to have tremendous sexual prowess. Y’know what I mean: holding power. The great yogi Iyengar says that if you can take it one step further and actually retain your semen for prolonged periods of time (a.k.a. celibacy), you will develop a sweet scent.**

Well, I find this very interesting because having retired from Drakkar when I started teaching yoga and having retired from Patchouli essential oil when I started attracting very hairy women and having retired from One Man Show’s “after-shower” line of creams and sprays when I stopped attracting any women; I wanted to try Iyengar’s semen retention method to see if such a “sweet scent” was possible.

So I did and I did and I did some more.

Then: I needed to make a trip to urologist Dr. Robert Sholem who you could say was slightly less than spiritual. He begged to differ with the great Iyengar. Dr. Sholem said that semen retention is the cause of acute prostatitis and that one should “release oneself” once a day, everyday. “My oh my,” I thought. Was this really such bad news after all?! This Dr. Sholem was an animal.

But I was confused. The great Iyengar and none other than Sting himself certainly had better moves with the babes than Dr. Sholem of Scottsdale. What to do?! Modern medicine vs. yogic wisdom. For Iyengar’s sweet scent I was yearning, yet all the while my loins were burning.

While I endured the celibate journey for the mystical scent, I’d often dream of beautiful models slapping their hands against zip-lock bags filled with cinammon frosting winking at me as they said, “Blue and Purple make GREEN!” One night I woke up from such a dream and decided Iyengar must have been living in another world spending 5 years between loads and 5 hours on one pose. I tried but I just couldn’t be this Iyengar.

Such was my experiment with celibacy. While it may yield life-changing revelations for others, it just didn’t feel true for me.  And as Gandhi said, “There is no God higher than truth.”

**LIGHT ON YOGA by BKS Iyengar
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