Saturday, 2.30pm
Some children dream of walking the moon… I just dreamed of having the gift of moon walking. As fate would have it, maybe I’ll succeed.
Yes, I’m on my way to a Michael Jackson dance class at Pineapple Studios in central London. Teacher, Anthony King, apparently looks and sounds just like his idol – I’m sure he pulls all the moves too.
The question is, will I be able to move with flair? I can pull the standard moves on any dance floor and give me a podium and a cocktail or two and I’ll entertain the masses with ease.
Moon walking, however, is another matter all together. From a very young age I secretly attempted to slide my feet in Jacko’s fashion… but all I ever achieved was carpet burn and a singed sense of pride. My plight seemed hopeless, and I came across as little more than a klutz with the grace of a sedated sardine. It looked like I’d have to master the smooth moves of Janet instead.
That was, until I stumbled upon the website of Anthony King. – king of dance and of the many moves of the ‘King’ himself. No, I’m not talking Elvis folks… Anthony has brought Michael Jackson to London – and soon we’ll all be moon walking across dance-floors (and office hallways); just you wait and see!
The temptation was unbearable – I just HAD to try it… so here I am now, facing the tube in my trackies and trainers – ready for an hour of head shaking, knee jerking, crotch grabbing (yeeeeow!!) fun.
Oh Lord… what have I let myself in for?!
Saturday, 3.00pm
Right, it’s time to head in… see you on the other side…
Saturday, 4.05pm
Any glimmer of doubt I had before heading in has been smashed, thrown and danced straight out of the door.
Phew! Done, dusted and sweating like a maniac. My ears are still ringing from the sounds of Michael Jackson and the souls of my feet ache; both from the pounding I’ve given them and in shock of wearing flat shoes!
But… aches and pains are good right? If the smile on my face is anything to go by then they must be. I just caught a glimpse of my flushed cheeks in the towering maze of mirrors in the dance hall – and the colour says it all – I’ve had a workout and a half.
Not only that – I’ve just had an hour in the life of Michael Jackson. Now, I may not look the part – after all, I am a pint sized, ample bosomed woman – but briefly, just briefly, I felt like Jacko himself.
Anthony however, DID look the part. Dark, lithe, a dancer’s gait and black curls give him an early Michael Jackson aura – he’s as close as most people will ever get to the real thing… and it only costs ?7 for the privilege!
With enough enthusiasm to launch a small rocket, he commanded the group of wannabe dancers with contagious energy. Some of us (yes, me included!) struggled to master even the simplest of moves – but the pace was gradual and the instructor patient… all levels of beginner were catered for and despite my initial self-consciousness, I soon realised that we were ALL shaky and were going to give it our best shot.
And try we did! A simple hand movement became a determined thrust of the hips, followed by a set of pelvis thrusts that would send my Grandma to an early grave. Jacko’s signature head movements and fancy footwork were thrown in and somehow, without even realising it, I found myself performing a routine. Okay, so I left a LOT to be desired, turned the wrong way and missed the final beat – but boy was it fun!
I may not have learned to moonwalk, but for one brief hour I felt as though I touched the moon. Do it!
For more information and lesson timetables visit Anthony’s website.
