The Dropping of the Dignity

Last Saturday I took Kyser and Celis with me to a wedding reception. Going alone, where there was sure to be dancing and frolicking, I really wanted some accessories. It was in an open-air paviliion complete with a HUGE dance floor and a d.j. Now I took special care in getting ready for the event...eyeshadow and EVERYTHING.

We show up and things are slow, as is natural at the beginning of such events. The kids were bored stiff and I thought, okay, we'll eat our dinner then split...at least it was a beautiful drive and we had fun in the car. BUT WAIT. The d.j. announced the first dance for the bride and groom...then the fun began...first song to last, Celis was on the dance floor. Kyser soon followed her...and then me. Not many ensued. Occasionally a few brave souls joined us especially for the chicken song, the hokey pokey, Y.M.C.A...the kids delighted in the lights, the music, the free reign over the dance floor. I delighted in THEM.

At one point I took a break, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That carefully applied makeup was G-O-N-E and I looked a mess...but happy. I took a wet paper towel and cleaned all the remaining makeup from my face...and hit the dance floor once more. At one point I thought, I'm that woman. And it was quite a surprise. Socially I am timid and shy...unsure of how to behave or interact with others...but with years of tutelage under the auspicious Chuck Picciuti, I've become a dropper of the dignity.

Back in the day, we had a discipline at Texas Lions Camp called “dropping your dignity.” Essentially, it was instilled in all counselors that the more you could achieve this state of disregard for your pride, the more delighted the kids would be. The more silly dances, the more goofy songs, the more wiggles and giggles, the better. This was all well and good for camp. It was perfectly acceptable…nay…commendable to achieve maximum lack o’ dignity at camp.

Enter, Chuck Picciuti. He brought this discipline into my very life. And it’s impact stays with me still. I couldn't help but smile as I thought of how Chuck would have joined us on the dance floor. Many of you have seen his classic wiggle in the chair routine...with long arms flying and fingers pointing in all directions. I take delight that I have become that woman...that I love being silly on the dance floor...that every time I do, Chuck is with me...that I have children in my life who (at this point) will encourage my silliness. (I know, the teen years are a coming.) For now, what a joy.