Redneck? My cowboy boots tell a different story. They say: "Big Class."
I don't wear my cowboy boots every day. I wear them when I'm dressing up and going out to impress people. Usually I don't care to try to impress anyone. Sarah Palin doesn't know this or that? Obama knows all things cool and smart? I know a few things about class that Obama must have missed in Marxism 101. I know a few things about class that Debra Jackson knows.
Do-Sa-Do: Square Dancing and Mindfulness
When we take a class action and return ourselves to our home, maybe then I'll go home too. For now, home doesn't impress me. I'm not dressed up for it. Folks'd sneer at me, I do think so. When I go back home and walk through the door and see the Debras dressed to dance, and when I smell the hay and cattle and the clouds, then do sa do. That's a class action I'll be part of.
When I was 12, one of my best friends was a square dancer. Twice a week, her family would pile into the Country Squire station wagon and head to the Grange Hall, where they'd gather with their square dancing club for an evening of music, friendship and do-sa-do.
As a regular guest, I was fascinated by the form but, in the height of my coolness-conscious years, also acutely aware of the overwhelming dork factor. These people lived to square dance.
They skipped around for two or three hours at a time, twirling and smiling and dabbing at their foreheads between dances. They hunted for holiday-themed fabric months before special dances in order to whip up the perfect ruffled dress and matching shirt for each occasion. They packed their petticoats and headed to Penticton, British Columbia every summer for a regional square dancers' convergence.
The square dance girls were just as boy-crazy as my regular friends, but they had a built-in way to hold hands with the guys they liked. As for me, I had a major crush on my friend's older brother who, at 15, was an articulate, ambitious student body president with piercing blue eyes and blond hair to his shoulders (it was 1972, after all).
In one of our (for me, anyway) excruciating conversations involving much blushing, he told me that square dancing was like meditation. "It's a way to forget about everything except what's going on right now. You have to pay attention to what the caller says, and let your mind and body make sense of it naturally, without trying too hard."