come on now, fess up..whole stole the fun...?

ok, its 3:32 in the a.m. and i just got home. i spent the evening out in gloucester. it was the birthday of one of my all-time favourite people, so when the night club was suggested as a venue for the after-dinner, i could find no way out of it..i really need to work on my faith in miraculous tranportation.....
its called intraction. or maybe with two nns...........oh sweet lord. going out, i have discovered in the last few hours, is not fun anymore. i don't mean i didn't have fun. i didn't, but that's another story...i just mean, nothing about fun is fun now. the dancing is so stifled and affected and contrived. in fact, i wondered on more than one occasion whether it could really be considered dancing at all. there appears to be nothing left of self-expression, or abandon, or dancing away ones problems. the latter is a therapy route i have often chosen in the past, and have found it almost invariably effective in sweeping those blues away, however temporarily. the thing is, its now drink that is the abandon, and pulling which is the expression, and aim, of the whole event. i saw one person actually enjoying himself while dancing, giving his whole body over to the shite music that frankly, deserved no such attention. but it was quite apparent that his wacko moves were not going to get him any nearer to having sex tonight. he didn't care. i loved him.
i spent quite a lot of time deciding which to be the sadder about - the old women, out as usual, saturday night, hideous halter-necks and young men passing who stopped, showed interest, got close enough to see the facial signs of age-betrayal, and ran for the hills. but then there are the young ones. one, i was informed by a friend, is pregnant and 18. one, has no job because her overbearing bofriend mocked her and her efforts at a hairdressing apprenticeship and made her quiet. she was 19.
and however much i try, i can't write or think these things without feeling like a snob. i've never been a class-warrior, but then i have been brought up and educated in an age where we are forcibly told that class does not exist anymore. but its not about class. or age, or education, its about self-respect i think. although, in the grander scheme, i suppose its really about jesus.

and music....? who, WHO decided in the 90s that R&B was going to be bitched into being the label of more or less all music that filled innteraction this evening...? R&B means rythym and blues. we're agreed on that one, right..? before that, the genre was generally bunched under the category of soul, which i had equal objections to, given that the melodies were generally neither soulful not the lyrics evident of any soul behind them.
so rap soul hip-hop r+b whatever, its all the same. the bass is intrusive on one's natural heartbeat, the lyrics are obscene (and no, you don't have to be mary whitehouse, or 75, to own up to thinking that..) and the vast majority of its melodic perpetrators cannot sing. its all about black people, which of itself, is a good thing. but to see a room full of 800 white people furtively attempting to follow the every move observed daily on MTV of these new musical revolutionaries.....oh it was humiliating. and its everywhere. its not just here.
so this is my question....is dancing not cool? the cool people, who like decent music that has actual talent behind it - glorious, mostly unappreciated, and therefore still cool - are these people (i hope you know i am counting myself amoung them) not supposed to dance? because where on the earth can you find a place to dance to music that is not, as aforementioned, shite?
answers on a postcard.