Activity observation: Dancing

This Saturday it rained. On a rainy Saturday people typically keep indoors and play cards, do laundry, or watch people playing football in the rain on television. In reflection on my weekend, I must tell you, typical can be preferable. On this same day fifty years ago my grandparents took their wedding vows, and for this fated day they wanted to do something special. Naturally, they got out their list of friends and invited the lot of them for a party. The complication wasn't necessarily the rain but the fact that my grandpa has a absolutist philosophy of three ideals: doing things his way, being stubborn, and never giving in.

An Uncle of mine had arrived early to take up the job of party supervisor, and promised that my Grandpa would have the afternoon free to enjoy his guests. He was somewhat right. With ample parking prepared for a state fair, the needs of our thirteen guests were well met.

I had an outpost at a table under one of the five tents, serving drinks. From there I hoped to take notes on what people were up to, while still being somewhat useful. There were three main groups that coalesced, each around a different activity. There was a band hired to play country tunes for the afternoon, and some of the guests picked up dancing. While I could see three men evade the scene and escape down into the basement for a few games of pool, most of the crowd remained on the dance floor. Lastly, there was a group of youngsters that had discovered the gigantic mud puddle engulfing the front lawn.

I could see that the adults near the band were somewhat anxiously mingling. They seemed uncertain as they talked amongst themselves in front of the dance floor. Originally the plan was for the band to be stationed outside on a stage. Instead the band was playing loudly for the small arena they had been bunched into. Because of the roaring guitars, it was obvious every time the guests would speak to one another. They would lean dangerously far inward to each other, and one would have to practically devour the other's ear to get across a simple greeting. Circles of talk would form, but people never shifted once they got settled in one of the groups, save running over to visit me for a drink. Soon, the atmosphere pushed two persons into the dance floor while others looked on. The pair did a sort of two step to the music, and it was not long before the others were joining in, comfortable that it could not be that difficult.

Most of my attention was absorbed by the youngsters around the lawn puddle. They had started dance long before any of the adults, jumping up and down and squealing occasionally. Each had a sticky handful of mud and was flinging it at the others without reservation. All were very vocal, some making words with the noise. The only intermission came when an unsuspecting golden lab ambled over to where they were playing and became the object of attention. At one point, one of the kids haphazardly slid into the mud-puddle and began to wail. The first one to help was another kid, running into the slippery mess, and pulling him up by the arm. The boy's mom ran over to help, but the incident was taken care of before she could lay hand on the child.