BREAKING NEWS: Methodist Confesses Dirty Dancing in Baptist Gym

             When a Heat Advisory is issued and exercise is a must, I’m lucky to gain access to a large, multipurpose center in this tiny town.  Inside I tune up my IPod, loaded with selections for easing the pain of walking in humongous circles, going nowhere, for a full 30 minutes.

             Today was different, however.  For whatever reason, a burst of energy invaded my body, and when the “music for walking” playlist began to stream through the earpieces, my step pepped.  It’s really difficult to walk at a slow pace while listening to big band sounds of “Take the A Train.”  I found myself conducting the orchestra.
                    Glancing to the ceiling, I saw no cameras.  In the parking lot were no cars except for mine.  No one was scurrying about in the kitchen, not even a mouse.  So, when Elvis began to thrill my soul with “American Trilogy,” I envisioned a hunk of burning love filling out a white, dazzling jumpsuit!
                By the time Gladys Knight & The Pips belted out “Midnight Train to Georgia,” I was a back-up singer, complete with swaying moves to match the lyrics.

               The warm-up was complete. Marc Anthony and orchestra cranked it up with “I Need to Know.”Our Ballroom Dance teacher Miss Connie would have been proud. That was the year when all our mamas signed us up for the Cotillion of Camden, Arkansas (which did not exist, save for their imaginations). Eat your hearts out George and Martha Ellen, our featured dancers.  My dance moves would put even “Dancing With the Stars” out of business.
                

So-called friends tell me I am NOT like Jennifer Grey. Hmmmph.  I have much more rhythm and far more moves than the Hula Sister! Fantasy casts me directly opposite a virile and incredibly sexy Patrick Swayze.  We’ll skip the lift for today.
             This 30 minute walk became a terrific workout, with only myself issuing the scoring numbers.  Cha-cha, Rumba, Salsa, and some Dirty Dancing moves catapulted this exercise event to the Winner's Circle: a great deal more exciting than Cardiac Rehab or a treadmill stroll to nowhere.

 The thrill was heightened with the realization that a Methodist was Dirty Dancing in a Baptist gym.