Leave those umbrellas at home.

I’ve always been one to go a little over the top when a good tune comes on, whether it be in the car, in the elevator, on the metro, in the dentist’s chair (ouch!), at a bar, or any other social scenario that involves music of any kind. At parties / locales with live or recorded music, my first mission is make friends with the performers and / or DJs to ensure my requests will be played at the wink of an eye (or flailing of a drunken arm… not that I’ve ever done that). If it’s a juke box, I make sure to get prime placement no greater than 10 steps away and always ask the bartender for my change in quarters (no.. they don’t appreciate that on $1 beer nights when they have to break a $20. Trust me, sir. You’ll thank me later).

Depending on the mood, it could be the Rolling Stone’s sprinkling me with a little Brown Sugar that gets the hips moving, or perhaps I’ll Express Myself with some classy, old-school Madonna: “C’mon girls… do you believe in love?! ‘cause I got somethin’ to say about it… and it goes somethin’ like this….” My taste of dance music truly runs the gamut. Clearly, by no means am I saying I’m a skilled dancer; in fact, my skills would be most comparable to that of poor Elaine Benes. But in the words of Gloria Estefan, “The rhythm is gonna get ya…”

Now, we’ve all had our bad days… when that jackass marine keeps talking about his ‘hot date tonight with a young hispanica’ when all I wanna do is close this action and pitch myself out a window eight stories high… or when you get ready for work with no idea that it’s supposed to downpour later and decide to wear your brand new suede boots … only to get called to the navy yard (.5 miles away) for a meeting that’s canceled before you even get there. On these crap-tastic days, very little can cure me of the blues. However, there is ONE song that will get me up, ass-shaking and bootylicious. Someone could steal my ice cream cone (or my car… as it’s been known to happen), cut me off on my commute home sans blinker just to stop short and double park (since apparently hazard lights are the terrible driver’s invisibility cloak), it wouldn’t matter. This song comes on, and I’m READY to go.

A close second would obviously be Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody, but they don’t play that nearly as often as the following amazing, ridiculous, timeless masterpiece by the Weathergirls. That’s right, ladies. It’s raining men. So get ready all you lonely girls, and leave those umbrellas at home.

(Please note: This video was sent to me by my office manager with a picture of an otherwise mortifying dance move yours truly displayed at a company Christmas Party in 2008 at Mt. Vernon, Virginia. 10-bucks says George Washington was kickin’ it in his grave. “Hallelujiah!!”)

(Editor's Note: Another $10 says every man in this video is gay.... Typical.)

Happy Friday!