EHHHH! MACARENA!
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I Won't Dance, Don't Ask Me.
I am rhythmically challenged, I can't dance, I can't spell YMCA, and my chicken dance has been the second most memorable event of many a wedding night. Being aware of my limitations, I avoid events where my terpsichorean disability will be subject to public scrutiny. So, imagine my horror when, while attending a recent Cardinals game with my son, the public address system belched forth the unmistakable strains of THE MACARENA.
In case you don't get out much - or ever - the Macarena is apparently a Latin American mutation of the Hootchy Kootchy. The highlight of the dance consists of putting your hands on your butt and "shaking it about". Because - or in spite - of this it has become standard fare at sporting events and Democratic Party gatherings around the country. As someone who took three years to master the wave, I have not viewed this as good news.
The logical response to this would have been to take the cultural high ground, refuse to be swayed by passing fads and remain seated. Unfortunately, there is something about the presence of my adolescent offspring that causes me to abandon logic in favor of appearing "with it", "tubular" or whatever the current equivalent of "cool" is. I danced, and although I failed miserably, I was at least spared the ultimate humiliation of message board recognition.
Later, while waiting in my chiropractor's office, it occurred to me that , unless I planned to limit future stadium visits to Promise Keepers meetings, I would have to come to grips with the dreaded Macarena. Naturally, the first place I turned was the Web. Not so much for the convenience as the privacy.
The Web came through. The Ambassadors, an New England disk jockey service, has a Macarena page which details the dance's 16 moves and offers a downloadable sound clip to practice with. Don't let the number of moves scare you off. The instruction begin with "R arm straight out - in front of you - PALM DOWN" and it gets easier from there.
Even more helpful was the How to Do the Macarena page from WBAL Radio in Baltimore. They've got it down to eleven steps with photos of three of their DJs illustrating each one. Not that the photos help, but seeing three grown men making fools of themselves like this has gone a long way towards reducing my inhibitions about strutting my stuff in public.
Now that I was hooked, I turned to Kshitij Jain's Macarena page for help with translating the lyrics. It's hard to beat the poetry of the original Spanish lyrics - "Ehhhh, Macarena" - but the English translation - "Macarena, Macarena, Macarena" - and the familiar Bayside Boys version - "so I...ha,ha,ha,ha,ha" - come close.
It's apparent however that some people still just don't get it. Chief among those is the Sacramento Bee - what is it about Californians? - which has established an online Macarena Free Zone. They're offering a free poster for the best Macarena jokes and stories so you might want to e-mail them with your most embarrassing Macarena moment. Although, judging by what I saw at the stadium, the competition will be pretty stiff.
As for me, I'm looking forward to my next wedding invitation. Now, if I could just remember where that Chicken Dance page was...