Opinion: Dance fever coming on


Guess what, folks. In a few short days, I’ll be heading down to my youngest daughter’s first dance competition of the year in good ole Nashville, Tenn. Because, you know, why not? Amid a global pandemic, the holiday rush and a presidential election season like no other, who wouldn’t want to spend a weekend trapped in a hotel/convention center with hundreds of bedazzled kids, their screaming parents, and enough false eyelashes to create a small army of black cats? The show must go on!

And in one sense, I’m actually relieved to be returning to a normal part of our pre-2020 lives. I’ve missed seeing her team on stage, the inevitable costume malfunctions and the joy and angst that envelop teenage girls who perform high-energy routines in low-cut leotards. I’ve also missed the social aspect of being judgy with the other moms. A little wine plus a little cattiness equals a whole lot of laughter and the occasional pants-peeing.

But given the general state of affairs and the timing of this event, I can’t say I’m thrilled. My tiny dancer has already had COVID-19, along with most of her friends, but I have not. Somehow, I’ve managed to survive almost four months of in-person teaching without contracting the plague. How crazy stupid will I feel if I end up sick simply because I borrowed a contaminated can of Aqua Net to cement a low bun? Ugh.

So, we’ll wear our masks and sit 6-feet apart and remember to sanitize as if it is the plague. And I’ll cheer for her and comfort her and remember that life, like the show, must go on.

Peace out.