My Guilty Pleasure

I confess. I love Dancing With The Stars. I confess that I log on and vote for my favorites. I confess that when a season of the show is over, I am in withdrawal. So much so that I confess that last night I drove to the Prudential Center in Newark to see the Dancing with the Stars Tour.

I am not a reality show fan. I have never seen an episode of American Idol or Survivor. I can barely look at the promos for The Biggest Loser. But when the season starts on Dancing with the Stars, my DVR is set. And when I saw the tickets go on sale for the tour, I was there.

People often look at me cross eyed when I tell them of my fascination for the show. It is that same look I get when I tell them I have decided to pursue my writing career and not get another job selling ad time. REALLY?? You are kidding ?? YOU??

Yes. Really. Me.

If you have ever danced you know that in order to, you must be entirely present. You can’t be thinking about the shrinking size of your 401K or you will trip and stumble. As it turns out that is true merely sitting in the audience. There is no space for the 24/7 barrage of media coverage on the sorry state of the world. There is only room for the sheer joy of watching people having fun.

The allure for me is the total escapism into a world of movement and music that allows my imagination to run. And the thing I think is so great is that when your imagination is in high gear it stirs your creativity and when that happens you remember the endless possibilities of what can be.

And really, we can all use a little reminder that it is possible to create a new order out of this mess and it just might be, if we allow ourselves to imagine it, better than the one we have been holding on to.

Last night I escaped. I indulged. The new season starts on March 9, just eleven days before Spring. I am taking that as a sign that things are moving in the right direction.