Everybody dance now!

Roberta Hedgepath works out on Dance, Dance Revolution Extreme at Time Out in Quintard Mall. Photo: Bill Wilson/The Anniston Star

Two friends and I plunged feet first into a dance video machine called Dance, Dance, Revolution Extreme at Time Out video arcade at Quintard Mall. What fun we had!

We met at noon, ate a quick lunch at the food court and headed east toward the dance machines, something all three of us had watched throughout the last couple of years as youngsters stomped on a lighted pad in rhythm to “their” kind of music.

I wanted to try the game now because I recently heard on news broadcasts that youths were losing weight thanks to these games. I went, too, because the dancing looked like fun.

The first thing I did when we walked in was to exchange cash for tokens. I figured 7 dollars’ worth would be enough for all three of us. Beginners, I was told by two very thin young men, could dance to three songs for three tokens. The fellows were so helpful to us grandmothers. One gave me a stream of tickets he found on the floor that I could redeem for prizes, which I did. (I got three rubber duckies before I left, remembering the 1970s dance craze of Disco Duck.)

My two friends, Roberta Hedgepath and Nancy Morrow (that is their real names, although they’ll deny it), were eager for me to return. They had been watching one of the youths dance. They were trying to figure out how the game machine worked.

One of the young men named Jon showed us where to place our tokens, how to select the best music for beginners and how to scroll through the game’s options. The other named Brad got suddenly thirsty and had to leave.

We were off. Lighted arrows began shooting up the video screen that we were supposed to follow. A right arrow meant we were to step on the right arrow on the dance pad. A left arrow meant we should step on the left arrow on the pad. The up arrow meant step up; the down arrow meant step behind.

The most fun step was when two arrows shot up together. That meant either to stomp both feet on the left and right arrow at the same time, or stomp both feet on the front and back arrows. This sounds simple, but that music seemed to fly by at 90 miles per hour. Lights flashed; voices from the machine heckled or cheered us, depending on our missteps; mall walkers stopped and stared; and the youths (Brad came back) showed us how contagious this dance was.

They stomped their feet on the floor to the same pattern we were doing. It was sensory overload but so much fun. We took turns exercising through several highspirited songs, and we found that what the news people said was true. We were sweating even after just one three-song turn, and we didn’t stop. We kept up about five routines once we got the hang of it. As we got better, we stomped on the floor, too, even when it wasn’t our turn on the dance pads.

Roberta and I had a little advantage over Nancy, because we had used dance games at home. I had bought a much-simpler pad for my grandchildren at a yard sale. Roberta had used one that her adult children have hooked up through their video game system on her television.

“This improves foot-eye coordination,” said Roberta, a skill we all agreed that even grandmothers should have. “Kids can get fit, get a new skill, and have fun, all at the same time.”

“Kids, nothing,” I said. “From now on, the kids at this mall had better watch out. They’ll have to get in line behind us grandmas.”