Treadmill Motivation

Saturday night I went to the Power Center in Ann Arbor to see a modern dance performance.

Other than my daughter Caitlin or niece Rachel's childhood dance recitals, I have not attended such a show. So, I admit I was clueless as what to expect.

The Stephen Petronio Company took stage to the music of Rufus Wainwright. I can't name a Ruffie song, but I can sing "Dead Skunk," his dad Loudon's comical song, proper to belt out after slamming a few shots in any local watering hole.

The choreography, costumes, and music, all flowed in a unique way to express Petronio's piece about optimism with a bit of regret. About young people innocent of the ways of the world, that need to be given a sense of hope. The main vision, an illustration of fragile love when someone is approaching adulthood. All expressed through dance, not a word spoken.

WTF? I must have stayed in the restroom too long because I didn't see that at all. I enjoyed it immensely but my take was more like this:

Wow cool music, *note to self, buy the CD

Whoa, look at the bodies on those strapping young men. Toned, nice butt cheeks, fabulous abs, great pecs, powerful arms! Hey, they shave their legs!

Sheesh how does she do THAT? I honestly did not know legs could spread that far apart, straight up, in the air ... with head and shoulders flat against the floor. Summm-body is talented in bed for sure. Skin tight sheer costumes, peep shows at certain moves ... this is a sensual and sexual display indeed.

There was only one puzzlement I still can't figure out. The seats occupied at this nearly sold out show were people of my age and older. I don't recall seeing any 20-30ish attendees. Does this mean the appreciation for an interpretation dance is appealing to the mid-aged crowd or does the mid-aged crowd just like to recall what we used to look and move like?