Sunday, March 7, 2010
Frequent readers of my writings know of my fascination with dance. I have often written of its effects on my thinking and state-of-mind — a wonderful expression of “going with the flow,” for me.
Lately I have noticed the effect that my dancing has had on my physical body. Many have commented and my stamina and endurance are equal to my marathon training days. A photographer friend was especially amazed at how it has sculpted my legs. I have never stopped playing basketball and after forty years my legs are in good shape, but nothing has fashioned them like the past seven years of dancing in China.
When I get, what I think is the particularly rude, frequently asked question, “How old are you?” (Rarely is the questioner even close to my age and they cannot begin to compare to my energy and stamina.) What I want to do is show them my legs and ask, “How old do you think I am?” I just might start doing that with this collage of pictures. To me, this expression of an old man’s excessive pride is no more rude than their question.
If you are offended by nudity, perhaps you shouldn’t go any further. Otherwise, Have a look at the photo album and tell me, how old do you think ?