I’m not a dancer.  I dance with the grace of an ox.  Not only that, I feel like a buffoon swaying back and forth and turning around in small circles and never really getting anywhere.  It makes me want to stop at the gas station and ask directions.  Now, I have to admit that I have only danced with my wife on a few occasions; so you might be justified in saying that I have never given dancing a try.  That’s fine, because this isn’t about dancing either.

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