In one gigantic act of bravery

I decide (will I regret this later? I'll probably regret this later) to upload a clip from a dance practice session.  John (my instructor) and I are dancing to Natalie Merchant's wonderful rendition of "The Janitor's Boy."  We're not yet ready for showcase prime time (we have a few weeks more before the event) and Scott, who is recording this for us so that I can see all the things I have to fix (which would be plenty), is explaining to a passerby that this is a "campy" foxtrot.  Campy?  Me?  Really?

Whatever it is.  Whatever it may be.  I dance because it frees me from my own head, which is, at times, not the most eloquent or elegant place to be. 

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