A few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to attend an “inauguration ball” in Washington. But this was not any glitzy, glamour-soaked event, and the President and First Lady did not make an appearance - or not in human form.
Instead, I went out to Glen Echo, a historic theme park located just 10 miles from the White House, where a community swing dance was being held in the park's Spanish Ballroom. And there, in front of life-size cardboard pictures of Barack and Michelle Obama, an “inauguration dance” was held, with a motley collection of locals: sneaker-clad teenagers, white-haired pensioners, prim ladies dressed in buttoned-up shirts and some distinctly exhibitionist Lotharios.
It was a moving, if not humbling affair. For one thing, there is something wonderfully levelling and unifying about dancing: as everyone tried to do the Charleston, in front of the grinning Obamas, for a brief moment we all melted into a single mass, as we gaily trod on each others' toes.