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Moral Monday: Dancing Guy.

Okay, I said on Friday that I’d go back to ripping off the Onion.  But I just wasn’t feeling it today, so I decided to scan my phone to see what I did this weekend — having no solid memories of much.  And I found a video I took at a concert, that apparently I attended.  To my horror I saw images of a middle aged, chubby man, dancing — and was shocked someone had filmed me.  And then flattered.  Then I realized … that’s not me!  I’m better looking.  But not a better dancer.  And then it all came back to me.  And I was outraged!  Which is why this is the first installment of “Moral Monday.”

The man in this video, or dancing dude I should say, as man doesn’t really apply, was at a jam band show with his son and wife.   I guess in theory that’s nice.  Not really appropriate, as the place was filled with filthy, thieving hippies, but from my perspective nice, as my Dad never took me to concerts — even gypsy-hippie concerts.   Casinos … but not hippie-gypsy concerts.

So from what I can work out, the dancing dude was there to have a good time, not really caring what the rest of the family thinks of being at a show with 1,000 zombies that would tear he and his family to shreds for the last grilled cheese.   My guess is dancing dude partook of a few substances …and started to really “feel it.”  Probably time traveled back to a time when Jerry Garcia still stumbled on this earth.  And feeling youth, and a ton of drugs course through his system … he decided to express himself.

Through dance.  And dance he did.  Like a white Michael Jackson.  But with no skill, rhythm or practice.  Though he did have the ass wiggle thing down.  And I think he was trying to pass along some family lore to his son.  The lore of dancing like a fucked up white guy.  He also does some solid air drums.  But enough of my yakkin.   I present to you, this dancing Diva Dad.   FYI, the son stared blankly at the ground the entire time this Master made it clear junior wasn’t going to college.  Sorry kid, but genes are genes.

Oh, and the moral here.  I considered “don’t dance on drugs in front of your son,” but that actually seems like a pretty funny thing to do.  So the moral this Monday is … “Don’t drug dance in front of an asshole with an iphone and a blog.”

Happy Monday!  Now click the blue link below and enjoy.


About Marty 85 Articles

Hollywood screenwriter, reformed attorney and worshiper of the tiny princesses on Monster Island. Became a nerd as a child, thanks to lack of athletic ability, which turned me on to fantasy novels, scifi movies, and not having girlfriends. Favorite projects I’ve worked on as writer – adapting BBC SILK for the U.S., the Japanese anime BLACKJACK and currently my passion project, PANDORA. Soon to be a major comic book.

Contact: Website

1 Comment on Moral Monday: Dancing Guy.

  1. I have entered a pathos lined valley of my greatest fears of the future/memories of the past. The circle is complete. All hail the crusiform!

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