Proud? Try Contra.

“The men who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try nothing and succeed."
- Lloyd Jones

Well, Mr. Jones obviously never tried contra dancing.

For those of you who are unfamiliar - as I was - with contra dancing, it's essentially souped up line-dancing. Two lines face each other - you and your partner stand opposite one another - and you continuously switch off with the people around you throughout each dance. I was a little nervous going into it, but everyone I spoke to said it was SO much fun, and that any idiot could do it. This idiot really shouldn't have attempted it.

My basic plan was to sit back, watch my friends, and enjoy the music. To avoid having to dance, I would either A) become engrossed in my cell phone, or B) become engrossed in the stars outside until partners were picked and the caller had commenced giving instruction. These combined methods worked pretty well. But not well enough.

Fellow volunteer Alex, a seasoned contra dancer, offered to lead me in the first real contra set of the evening. I thought, "You know, this is all a part of the Kentucky adventure. I should try it out. What's the worst that could happen?"

My first mistake.

Though Alex basically spun me through the entire routine, I had absolutely NO idea what I was doing out there. It's all sort of a blur. I remember being very dizzy. I remember being swung by a man in a kilt. I remember saying "HI!" to each new person with whom I had to dance (all of which were, in my opinion, phenomenal contra dancers with very strong arms). And I remember telling Alex that we were permanently fighting due to the fact that he got me out on that floor to begin with.

But, all things told, it was a very pleasant evening. Despite my obvious deficiencies in the the field of contra dancing, the other dancers couldn't have been nicer or more patient, and my fellow CAP volunteers were nothing but supportive of my clumsy attempts at rhythm.

I did have to dance one more time after the initial trainwreck. Some poor guy misread my "leave me alone" text-message-checking face for my "please, please, PLEASE come ask me to dance" face. I think the red flag for him was when I apologized before the music even started. Jeffrey, if you're out there somewhere, thanks for being a good sport.

It was a humbling experience. I did a lot of hiding. I made a lot of excuses. It would appear that I called many more people than I actually did. And I may have feigned serious injury at one point.

Needless to say, I'm going again on Saturday night.