Dancing with the Turks

Above health care, the economy, and the war, one issue ranks highest on the national scale of importance: America's need for more spontaneous song and dance. (In case you were wondering, I am both Pro-Song and Pro-Dance.) For this, we must Look to the Turks:

The band was a planned part of our supper experience, but the move-busting, which was accompanied by much singing from the restaurant patrons, was utterly impromptu. Brilliant! This is the only video I attempted to take in Turkey (evidenced by its oh-so-artful cinematography), which proves how firmly I support this issue.

The above example wasn't some isolated incident, either; these people inhale song and exhale dance, for reals. At a lunch stop in Karacasu, Gary "Saz Dylan" Pederson jams with a Turk on his saz:

Hey! Mr. Parakeet Man, play a song for me

And oh, that lovely night in Kusadasi (or "dancing with Gypsies," as Tom insists on calling it). Here's the story: as a few of us ventured into the bustling nighttime streets, we met a large family of Turks (Gypsies?) singing and dancing to a Turkish folk song on the sidewalk, accompanied by drum and flute—during which they promptly pulled us into the chaotic circle in a flurry of smiles, laughter, and linking arms as we tried (awkwardly) to mimic their flowing hands and bouncing feet. It only lasted for a minute or two, but it still tops my list of Best Moments in Turkey... mostly because of the sweet-faced little boy in the group throwing up gansta moves, thinking I was cool enough to reciprocate (I wasn't).

Viva la dance dance revolución!