I'm 30 years-old. My wife and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary last weekend. And I despise dancing as much as I did when I was a 15 and telling girls I would only go to the semi-formal if they understood that I wasn't going to dance.

When absolutely necessary, I will dance, the same way in a crunch I would use my shirt as toilet paper; not pleasurable, but doable, if circumstances absolutely require it. But the thing is that no matter how much I enjoy a given piece of music, it simply never prompts an impulse to move my body in any particular way.

If I DO have to move my body to music, this requires me to think up a great many new and interesting conformations in which to arrange my limbs. And if an average song lasts, say, four minutes, and if you assume one conformation lasts four seconds, that means sixty conformations per song. By the end of a given song, I'm tired--not physically tired, but mentally tired from thinking up so many conformations. I'm also inexpressibly bored, and frustrated at the absurdity of the entire endeavour.

A heartless shrew once told me that a man's lack of interest in dancing bodes poorly for his sexual performance. I reject this accusation. The impulse-to-hump, and worldbeating ingenuity and skill in the humping process, need not at all coexist with the impulse to flail your limbs and assume interesting conformations to the sound of music. In fact, a recent study at the University of Oaxaca indicates that men who love to dance are invariably premature ejaculators. So there you go.

Anyway, my point is this: actually I don't know what my point was. I guess I just was hoping for some solidarity.