I haven't square-danced in roughly 15 years, but with dance moves with names like Duck for the Oyster and Dig for the Clam, along with the ever-present possibility for serious body entanglement, I have no idea why not. The Tallboys lead this party, located in a wood-art and painting studio that looks like a 4-H club with the haystacks set around the room. While the music is just what you'd expect—do-si-do, promenade, and so forth—the dancers, a few drinks in, lack the smooth synchronicity you see when folks square-dance in the movies.
People are dressed to the nines to celebrate the host's half-birthday. Revelers in cowboy boots (one pair notably python skinned), plaid, Carhartts, and overalls mix with those who either didn't read the invite or didn't have country-themed attire just lying around. One woman wears a set of sharpshooting medals pinned to her dress; I compliment her skill, although as it turns out, she's never even held a gun. She's just a huge fan of Annie Oakley.
While the Tallboys play their final song, their frontwoman, who's been singing as well as calling dances, has everyone hold hands and then leads them on the biggest crack-the-whip I've ever seen. With street food setting up outside and a fresh load of PBR (and, for some reason, Smirnoff Ice) arrived, the party doesn't seem set to end anytime soon. And neither does the enthusiasm for this oft-derided dance.
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