They tried to drag me into the melee, of course, into the whirlpool of jerking elbows and waggling bottoms, but, like the shy girl at the barnyard hop, I wasn't for the courting. It's a guy thing. More accurately, it's an Irish male thing. We are morally obligated to regard dancing as an activity to be engaged in only in conditions of near darkness and when bolstered by an inhibition-blunting blood-to-alcohol ratio. This, a sports hall in broad daylight, heaving with well-toned extroverts in gym slips and string vests, wouldn't do at all.
Don't get me wrong. Swing dancing looks like a lot of fun - in much the same way that skydiving or bullfighting strikes you as an absolute hoot when you're watching it on TV. You know all about swing dance (or "jazz dance") even if you think you don't. The GAP jeans promo with a parade of khaki-wrapped all-American kids engaging in a florid rockabilly ensemble shuffle. Those huge dance-floor set pieces in 1940s gangster movies. That newsreel footage of guys 'n' dolls stomping along to Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman.
And while it never really went away - exponents of the style cite 1950s rock 'n' roll culture as the evolutionary gestalt of the jazz clubs that flourished across the US in the post War era - swing is back. It has been a slow, fitful rebirth. The first modern day swing clubs opened in New York in the early 1980s and it took almost a decade to re-establish the style as a fashionable, accessible alternative to more formalised disciplines such as ballet and ballroom dancing.
The 1990s have witnessed a bone fide boom. Swing is catching on across Europe and the UK; now it's Ireland's turn to grab a partner and shuffle beneath the glitter-ball. Dublin-based dance teacher Jane Shorthall unveiled her first swing class in November and plans a string of big band swing nights in Dublin early next year, complete with 1940s retro stylings and period dress.
Swing has been a revelation to many people who were never really interested in dancing before, because it's just great fun. It's a social dance, so the emphasis is on enjoying yourself rather than conforming to a pattern. And because it is a partner dance, it is a good way to meet people.
Russell Sargeant, a swing performer/instructor with London-based dance company, Jiving Lindy Hoppers ("lindy hopping" is a style of swing) says the swing craze is attributable in part to the restrictive nature of contemporary club-land dancing.
"The way kids dance nowadays, there is no interaction, no contact. People are just left to do their own thing. They're all on their own. With swing you're moving with a partner so you learn to be more aware of your surroundings and to anticipate the other person's moves."
If you wanted to be precious about it, you could define swing as an antidote to the humourless self-exhibitionism which can make clubbing such an ordeal for the uninitiated. Swing's breakneck pace leaves no room for posturing or preening. And even if you don't feel up to participating, swing is fun to watch. "It's such a visual treat - especially where everyone is dressed up in period costumes," says Shorthall. Swing is also touted as an alternative work-out for those who shudder at the prospect of a Jane Fonda steps-and-leg warmer ordeal.
Still, you wouldn't get me out there, among the loose limbed, for love nor money. Unless . . . Any chance of getting a few drinks in first?
Jane Shorthall can be contacted through Dublin YMCA, Aungier Street, 01-4782607
