Strangely Naked

There have been a lot of embarrassing revelations recently. Mainly, the former users of Ashley Madison were outed as infidelious (even if they had open marriages or really really good reasons for cheating or were just jerks). So, I want to get ahead of any embarrassing revelations by laying my personal life completely bare for all to see. Before anyone else can “out” me through some sort of hacking, I would like to confess my darkest, most embarrassing secret (though a rich quilt could be woven out of my internet search history, this is not that disclosure.).

Wow, this is tough to admit. I mean, once I commit it to writing there’s no turning back, right? I just have to get it out there, then no secrets can get before me if I readily admit and get ahead of any rumors. Okay…Okay…Wow…Okay, I got this I think…I–

I got caught up in the late 90’s Swing music movement.

There are reasons that some would call “excuses” that I could use to explain my spending money on concerts and CD’s of bands the likes of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy–Oh god, did none of the bands of this era think of how embarrassing it would be to say their silly band names out loud? Or maybe they were trying to warn us of the silliness of this epoch by using names like Squirrel Nut Zippers and Red And The Red Hots? Why didn’t I recognize how dumb swing music was when I was saying “one ticket for Cherry Poppin’ Daddies” to a concert venue vendor!?!

There are reasons for my shame: I am predisposed to like music with brass sections. Ska music? Love it! Jazz Fusion…Dammit, that’s not a real excuse, I don’t like all music with horns, pretty much just Ska and Swing. Everyone was doing it! There were multiple movies featuring Swing music: Swingers, The Mask, uh and uh probably some movie featuring the Brian Setzer Orchestra. We were all engulfed in the tsunami of Swing!

In my defense, I didn’t get so steeped in the 90’s swing revival that I bought the clothes…although, I did own a pocket watch for a number of years. And I did take a swing dancing lesson. BUT! But that lesson was part of the opening act for a Royal Crown Revue concert! That’s not much of a defense is it? They had swing dancing lessons because they couldn’t find an opening act, didn’t they? OH GOD, I SWING DANCED!

This is painful for me to admit, but I don’t want this coming out in some sort of mass-Swing-hack. I don’t want to end up on the news, crying, explaining my past actions in front of the press with John Favreau sullenly rubbing my back in consolation. I know what Lindy Hop means! I still own some Big Bad Voodoo Daddy CDs–I still have CDs! The shame spiral knows no bottom.