Not being an avid You-Tuber, I hadn't heard of a flash mob before I saw Mitchell jump into one at the Mall in Modern Family. I thought it was hysterically funny. Of course, watching Cam's reaction of not being included, in something as dramatic and fun as that, made it more funny.
And why not? How I would love to randomly start flash mobs at the Maine Mall, on Commercial Street in the Old Port in summer when tourists abound, or in One City Center just outside my office door as I head out to get my afternoon cappuccino.
I'm not really funny. I'm definitely not a prankster, but something that just got me reeling as a kid was putting a tack in someone's seat. For some odd reason, that was just about the funniest thing to me. I was giddy just waiting for the unsuspecting classmate to sit down, so unsuspecting and innocently and then wham-o, they'd jump a mile, instant reflex. I would laugh hysterically. Those who know me know I don't have a poker face so there was never a doubt who the culprit was.
Now what I think is just so, so funny are flash mobs. Of course, I'm the one trying to do the Macarena at weddings or the Electric Slide - the concentration, the music, the camaraderie are the draw.
People are caught up in their long working days, ho-hum routines, maybe a little sad or overwhelmed by whatever stresses they're holding. I can't imagine that an instant and random flash mob breaking out wouldn't bring everyone in the vicinity complete, utter joy. Just a few moments of unexpected release and yet connection with the strangers who know the steps and hand movements just like you do - connected in a moment in time in such a funny, joyous way.
Several years ago, we took a family trip to Turks & Caicos. After a delicious dinner one night, we knew there was a bonfire party on the beach. It was still early, so we meandered over to take a peek. There were at least a hundred people there, all ages, having so much fun eating, talking, listening to the island music played from the stage, teakie torches lit. The four of us walked around watching all the fun.
Suddenly, limbo started and lots of people ran to get in line....as did I. My husband and sons looked at me incredulously and said, "What are you doing?" They probably thought I'd embarrass myself...or them. I knew I used to be able to do it, pretty well, too, when I was about thirty years younger and fifty times more flexible. Well, ha, just like riding a bike! The music was wonderful; I floated around the circle in a conga line in between the picnic tables barefoot on soft, white, sand, a buddy to my fellow dancers ahead and behind. My family loosened up as I made it under the ever-lower pole again and again and again. Their faces made it so worthwhile. When I was one among the final dozen left trying, my boys were laughing their heads off and high-fiving me as I danced around the corner in front of them. When I finally fell, the announcer, a native wearing face paint and a headdress, said, "Hey, man. My money was on you!" Ah. Awesome! What a fun, fun memory.
And my family looked at me completely differently from then on. "How do you know how to do that," my sons asked, and I gave them the middle-age-Mom reply, "Oh, dear....there's a lot about me you don't know. I was once young, you know!"
From the limbo to hopefully a flash mob someday. Look out Monument Square -- I'd love it!
