THE FOXTROT

There are reasons to like the Foxtrot; I suppose several.  The graceful movements.  The ease with which one can learn some very basic footwork for the dance.  I would think novice dancers should very much enjoy the Foxtrot.  The historic popularity of the Foxtrot here in America would be yet another reason to appreciate it.  All of these, and many more, are reasons to like this great dance.

However, I have come to understand that I do not just like the Foxtrot; I love it.  The reason?  The answer is, quite simply, the music.  I have a very diverse musical palate.   I find myself gravitating from one style to another in a “whatever mood I happen to be in” sort of way.   My appreciation of various styles wax and wane.  I can like the Southern Rock style of ZZ Top one week, and the dramatic scope of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Rhrapsody on a Theme of Paganini” the next.  Southern Gospel music moves me in a way that can be very deeply spiritual, but, I know of no other music that gets inside of me in the same way that Foxtrot music does.   I listen to other styles, but what I do with Foxtrot music cannot best be described as listening.

It is not the rhythm?  There are other rhythms that are more intoxicating than the Foxtrot.   Salsa comes to mind.  Maybe even Tango rhythms.  It is not the lyrics, although Foxtrot songs arguably features some great lines.

No… I think that, for me, the thing that Foxtrot music has that no other dance features is a fluidity.  It is an effortless fluidity of motion that I feel… really.  Swirling around inside of me all the time is a Foxtrot just waiting for an opportunity… looking for a patch of hardwood.  I can already hear those who are much more experienced than am I saying, “The Waltz! What about the Waltz?”  I’ve already, in a previous post, addressed my thoughts about the Waltz.  It is true that opinions are like armpits; everyone has a couple… and some of them stink.  But… in my opinion, the Waltz cannot compete with the superiority of the Foxtrot.

I have never experienced what it is to be blind, so I can’t know for certain, but I would think that a blind man could dance the Foxtrot even if he found other dances difficult or even impossible.  And I don’t mean that he may simply dance the dance, but rather, love dancing it.  You don’t have to see, you just have to be able to move… to flow.

The Foxtrot is a sway… a glide… it is as if I am an airplane that is flying effortlessly from one cloud to the next, yet I have never left the ground.  However… I don’t fly alone.  I don’t dance alone.  It is not a lone ballerina’s adagio.  The Foxtrot is a couple’s dance.  It is not one, but two airplanes locked in an aerial embrace.  Matching turn for turn, power for power, hesitation for hesitation.  Those that are afraid to fly should not dance the Foxtrot.

I find it easier to lead the Foxtrot than the rest.  I don’t find myself having to “think” about it as much.  Other dances are like a game of chess; I’m always planning several moves ahead… strategizing.  I don’t feel like that with the Foxtrot.   The decision making required for leading seems much less stressful.  I’m not mentally dancing so far ahead.

Finally, I don’t even realize that I’m breathing until I’m finished and only then am I aware that I am out of breath.  While I’m dancing the Foxtrot, the dance itself is my air.  I cannot help but smile when I dance the Foxtrot.  It is not exactly happiness that I feel… it is not joy… it is… freedom.  It is no restraints.  

There are many reasons to enjoy the Foxtrot, but for me, the connection that the intrinsic musicality of a good Foxtrot song makes with some natural, inherent place within me is my greatest reason of all.