Car show

When the car starts a-rockin’… come on in, but only if you’re ready to dance.

Singing in the car is one of the noblest of pursuits. A time-honored profession.

I’m sure many know the joy of rolling the windows down, turning the radio up, and belting the hits with gusto and zeal that could rival the original band’s (and they had the gusto and zeal of people getting paid big bucks to belt those ballads).

But some of us are luckier. ‘Cause Mama taught us the car’s a pretty good stage for dancing, too.

I think it started with ABBA (who else, really, could have you dancing like a queen?). Beams were gonna find us, and we were facing 20,000 of our fans. But I wasn’t a child of the ’70s, so Mom had to show me the choreo. So as she was smiling, having fun, feeling like a No. 1, she showed me how a Super Trooper got it done.

We have a whole host of ABBA moves now. And we quickly added to the mix. Bollywood, soca, Persian, Latin pop (Daddy Yankee anyone?), we’ve got car-accommodated choreography for all of ‘em. Even if the beat wasn’t hitting low, we’d still rock the car. Those hips don’t lie (still) in the car. They don’t need to.

Mom taught me never to waste a moment to dance.

As I grew up, we danced in the street if the buskers were hucking something sweet. We danced in our seats (or got up completely) to dance in restaurants. We danced in shops browsing (if we were even paying attention to the wares when the good tunes hit).

One of the best moments to dance is on the way to the grocery store, the pharmacy, the way home from school. For 15 minutes, the moment is bliss and the beats are good.

And yes, the car was parked every time her hands left the wheel. In drive, her head bobs and her shoulders shimmy for the rest of her.

The need to dance has always been a birthright. My mother didn’t just give me her values, her sense of right and wrong, her very face. She gave me dance. The love and the need.

The joy of dancing anywhere and everywhere. But especially in traffic. When else can you take your hands off the wheel and really let go?

Happy early Mother’s Day to my favorite dance partner, coach and choreographer.

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Elena Johnson is the proud daughter of a great mother. You can reach her at ejohnson@cdapress.com. She suggests you call your mom today.