Dance Party Breakfast

From Views from the Carrot Condo by Trista Cornelius

July 14, 2010

A few days ago, my man and I watched The Wiz. Have you seen it? It’s the 70s version of The Wizard of Oz with Diana Ross as Dorothy and Michael Jackson as the Scarecrow. Here’s a good trailer to give you an idea of the wonderful weirdness that is The Wiz. It’s set in New York City, and the Emerald City is inside the World Trade Center Towers. There’s a huge dance scene at the base of the towers--sad and ominous to watch it now.

Anyway, Michael Jackson dominates every scene he’s in because he’s so good; even when he’s just standing still you look at him because he’s so fully in character. I was in sixth grade when Michael Jackson was crazy famous, and I took him, his talent, and his fame for granted. No big whoop. Seeing him here, however, in his early days made me see just how talented he was. So, I borrowed Michael Jackson the Ultimate Collection, five music CDs, from the library.

The first CD had me jiving and grooving all through the kitchen, dining room, and living room. Then, at breakfast, my man put in the third disc, which starts with “Bad” and “The Way You Make Me Feel.” (See? Just reading the titles makes your hips sway a little, doesn’t it? Okay, maybe you’re not crazy enough to admit it like I am, but I know you’re snapping to the beat right now.)

I’d made oatmeal for breakfast—plain with cranberries, flax seed meal, and brown sugar for my man. For me? I invented “Black Oatmeal”: dark chocolate chips, black cherries halved, oatmeal, and two tablespoons of coconut milk (the fat stuff, not the “lite”). Stir it together, and it turns a rich, black-brown. It only takes maybe one tablespoon of dark chocolate chips to turn breakfast into dessert.

A few bites into my whole-foods version of Cocoa Pebbles for breakfast and “Man in the Mirror” comes on. I dance in my seat. My man’s face starts to glow. We raise our arms like Southern Baptists testifying at a revival meeting, “Sing it Michael!” Michael brings it out of us—all that soul and love: “if you want to make the world--a better place---take look at yourself and make a----chaaaaaange…”

Bowls empty, filled with sweet, rich cherry and chocolate bliss, I stand up at the end of “Dirty Diana” and by the time “Smooth Criminal” has begun, I’m bringing out every 80’s new wave and 90’s step aerobics move I didn’t know I remembered. We groove, boogy, and flail gleefully for a few songs. The wood floors in our little house creak, the shelves wobble to the beat, the plants vibrate from our pounding feet, and surely the neighbors hear us each time we “Whoo-hoo-hoo” with Michael.

A few minutes later, I bike to the farmers’ market and can barely walk without a few rhythmic bounces and attempts at moon walks. I practically ask one farmer to dance with me after we have an exuberant talk about fava beans. Okay, I wasn’t really about to ask him to dance with me, but a groovy love feeling infused my breakfast and left me feeling in love with and loved by the world.

Maybe it was the dark chocolate, the cherries, the decadent breakfast, but I think it was the groovy tunes stirring up memories of a sixth grade dance where my best friend and I did high-skip track drills around the dance floor to Michael Jackson songs like crazed monkeys. We were so cool.

“Lovely is the feelin’ now. Keep on with the force don’t stop, don’t stop ‘til you get enough!”