feetloose

There are few songs that open with such a distinctive riff. It only takes a few seconds to recognize that you are about to be treated to Footloose as you drive along. It would be almost impossible to type out the signature introduction in any recognizable fashion but hopefully it’s already pumping along in your head.

The song is infectious. Once it starts your feet have no choice but to start dancing.

The problem, I noted as I drove along in fits and starts, is that my right foot kept abandoning its duties vis-à-vis pushing down on the accelerator and brake. It was then I had to have a very awkward conversation, otherwise the entire driving endeavor was in peril.

“There is a reason that it’s called Footloose”, I began to explain to my right foot, “and not Feetloose. It’s only referring to one foot. Singular. Footloose. A foot that is not you. You must remain at your post lest the operation of a motor vehicle become a dicey venture.” I was afraid my tone might have been a bit too stern.

As if to make things worse, my left foot began a particularly inspired shuffle.

Perhaps trying to distract my right foot from the shenanigans going on to its left, I continued; “You of all appendages should appreciate that you are controlled by the left hemisphere of the brain. The left side, the side responsible for reading, writing and logic. The side that gets shit done.”

Meanwhile the left foot was going heel toe heel toe in time with the music.

“Look at that left foot. Controlled by the right side of the brain, it’s all about creativity and letting go. Let’s be honest, it’s embarrassing itself.”

My argument didn’t seem to sway my right foot. It was pushing down on the accelerator halfheartedly. If a deer had suddenly appeared in the middle of the road I have no doubt we would have hit it due to the melancholy response that would have no doubt come from my unenthusiastic right foot.

Then my ears chimed in.

You’re playing so cool

Obeying every rule

Deep way down in your heart

You’re burning, yearning for some

Somebody to tell you

That life ain’t passing you by

My right hand, controlled by the left hemisphere, up until that point sitting impartially on the wheel, suddenly swerved hard and left the car sitting on the side of the road in a cloud of dust. My left hand, make of that what you will,  opened the door and my ass, both cheeks, decided to jump up and take the rest of my body with me, but not before my right hand found its way to the radio knob to turn the song all the way up.

I suddenly had two left feet.

Everybody cut, everybody cut

Everybody cut feetloose!