“Was it a cute movie?”

“Yeah, it was cute.”

“I wish I had kids.  I mean, I wish I had kids, not my own, to take to see movies like that.  All the kids in my family live in Mississippi and Florida.”

“Well, there’s always Big Brothers, Big Sisters.”

“Uh-huh.  But what if I just want to pick up a kid to play putt-putt or go to a movie and nothing else?”

“My wife used to tutor a kid.”

“Yeah, she needed help but all she wanted me to do was finish her homework for her.  I couldn’t get her to understand that I was there to teach her how to practice addition and subtraction on her own.”

“See, that’s what I mean.  I can take a kid to a kid’s movie and us have a good time laughing at the silly jokes, but trying to teach math!  Well…”

“But there’s always a chance you’ll be good with kids.”

“Me?  Naw.”

“Hey, I say the same thing.  My friends say the opposite, that I have an uncanny sense what it’s still like to be a kid and thus able to talk with a kid as if we were both grown-ups and kids at the same time.  I bet you do, too.”

“Like I said, all my family’s somewhere else.”

“Yeah, all our nieces and nephews are grown up.”

“Where does that leave us, then?”

“Good question.  Love life for all it’s worth, I suppose.”

“There’s always dancing.”

“Yes, the world is our dance floor, is it not?”

“What if we sponsored a night just for children to learn to dance?  Underprivileged, privileged, coordinated, uncoordinated, special needs, nonspecial needs, it wouldn’t matter.  Just bring kids together to show them we can all have fun.”

“Hmm…it might work.  How would it differ from school-sponsored dances like sock hops or proms, or formal programs like ballet and jazz?”

“Well, instead of bringing the kids here, we could take our show on the road, so to speak, and get schools to turn recess time into dance lessons.”

“That’s a great idea.  I know many parents who would rather see their children waltzing than in an embrace on the floor that you couldn’t slide a piece of paper through.”

“I’ll call around to the nearby school districts and ask if they’d be up for this.”

“Hey, don’t ask.  Tell them why it’s good for the kids.  If you give someone a yes/no question, the answer is often no.”

“Okay.  Will you join us for teaching the kids?”

“No!  Just kidding.”

“Ha.  Ha.”

“Sure, I’m interested.”

“It’s like the perfect plan, you know.  We help the kids learn something new that includes math…you know, 1,2,3, 1,2,3…and have fun at the same time.  Plus, we’re not committing ourselves to any one kid for a long period of time.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right!  Who doesn’t have fun dancing?”

“Now that you mention it, there were a lot of kids in my school who never attended a single school-sponsored dance.  I know some were too ‘cool’ or cynical to go to official group functions.  Some felt they weren’t ‘cool’ enough, being physically awkward or thinking there was something socially unacceptable about them.  And a few lived in families that were opposed to any kind of coeducational experience, dancing or otherwise.”

“Yeah?  So what about them?”

“Well, if we have a captured audience, so to speak – all the kids in a particular school, grade or classroom – do you think we could get ’em all to try dancing?”

“Let’s find out!”

“Absolutely.  This is more exciting than I imagined.”

“Why don’t you put together a short history lesson we can throw in to show the children that dancing is an important part of their culture, no matter where they came from?”

“I’m already on it!  And I’ll even demonstrate that clumsiness is the better part of valour, or something like that, so the uncoordinated cynical types have less to sneer at.  Maybe something for the ‘goth‘ and ‘emo‘ types, too?”

“That’s the spirit!  See you next week!”

“And you stay light on your feet.”