To be fair, my dancing skills are radical and unshackled from the restrictive doctrines of conventional wisdom on the subject. I steadfastly refuse to be a slave to the beat and recognised dance moves are not my masters. For me, it's all about the spontaneity of flinging my leg in the air and not knowing where it might lead me.
We're a rare breed us natural dancers. I rarely catch sight of a like-minded soul, mostly as we're both caught up in the moment to notice each other, but once, on a surprising holiday in Ibiza (surprising for the fact that it was me, in Ibiza) I saw one chap who flailed past me as I was spinning in the opposite direction. I was impressed. He'd obviously been studying my technique for some time and was keen to incorporate some of my fancy footwork into his own wild fusion. That or he too had knocked back several jugs of Sangria, it's sometimes hard to tell.
Mind you, even when I'm sober as a Judge, the music can take control and I have to be very careful. Tonight I very nearly kicked one chap in the shin and a young lady up the derrière. Mind you she had also adopted a laissez-faire attitude to her backward kicks and came within a whisker of wiping out my gentleman's area with her size 6 Nike trainer. For one moment I saw my testicles' lives flash before my eyes, a sobering vision indeed.
In the end I escaped unscathed and unharmed. Dancing doesn't get harder than this, especially when you throw in a weights bar and some dumb bells.
Maybe next year this freestyle weights dance combo will make it onto Strictly. Until then the motto has to be.....keep dancing!!
