Moving Like Jagger

The inside of my brain is a lot like Elaines Benes’ dancing on Seinfeld:

Sometimes it’s even worse. My internal wiring’s akin to The (original) Office’s David Brent:

As interesting and schadenfrudish as it may be for you all to read about how messed up I am, lately. I’ve more Saturday Night Fever’s Tony Manero:

In researching ideas for this Friday’s Red Dress Club writing challenge of something that’s starts with an R, ends with an M, but I can not use in my post, I realized that appreciating my lack of  “dance skills” inside my brain is what has made me better.

My wife, the many times mentioned “Bobina”, tells me every day to slow down, appreciate what I have, and enjoy my one life. Yes, the anxiety meds help, but what has really given my hips some shake is appreciating myself.

While at a family event earlier today my cousin said to me “you seem really happy.”

No one says that to me. I’m the dude people go to for good snark, a joke or three, and something alternative to the popular opinion. Folks don’t flock to my side of the room for happiness. Until now.

On the way home from our family event (my grandfather, a local city councilman and public servant of over 30 years, had a water treatment facility dedicated to him), Maroon 5 came on the radio. It’s the one band my teenage daughter, 15 year old Tay, and I agree on. Instead of stressing over Tay rejecting my Radiohead and Clash CDs in favor of Taylor Swift, I’ve found common ground. This is anotehr example of me getting over my crappy wiring, relaxing, seeing the bigger picture. Tay, Bobina and I sang Maroon 5 at the top of our lungs in car like mental patients. I even danced, badly, in my seat.

****blogger’s note**** This is my response to challenge of “write a post about rhythm without using the word”.

Today’s song has plenty of the R word. It’s one of the better pop tunes Ive heard in years. Here’s Maroon 5′s Moves Like Jagger. Get up and move around, you know you want to.