Not too long ago, I wrote about how Elizabethtown College keeps getting more and more convenient for its Blue Jay inhabitants. Sometimes, improvements to the school can lead to temporary impediments, like the construction outside the main door of the Brossman Student Commons, or the BSC, as we affectionately and lazily refer to it. Other times, the improvements can lead to temporary eyesores, like when Lake Placida temporarily became “Puddle Placida” while it was being drained. Regardless, things are getting better around here. I’m sure I’ll come back in 20 years and find that Etown has found a way to make every day a chocolate day, bringing the scent of the Dove factory to one’s olfactory sense on a consistent basis.

But amid the constant improvements at Etown, we have made some sacrifices. Perhaps our greatest casualty to date is the loss of weekend dances in all of their sweaty, beat-bumping, awkward glory. Yes, you read that correctly, youngsters — we used to have regular weekend dances in the Koons Activity Venue, which we all know as the KAV because we love acronyms around here. The flashing lights, the semi-trendy music choices, the high school-esque formation of dancing cliques… it’s all coming back to me now. At the risk of sounding overly reminiscent, I think any senior who attended  the weekend dances has come to miss them, if only for the novelty.

The weekend dances were put on by the Office of Student Activities, commonly abbreviated as OSA in typical Etown fashion. I should make it known that I am an employee of OSA, but this does not particularly shape my opinion in any specific way. The fact remains that every single one of those dances was an experience. I vividly remember my first one: I strolled on over to the KAV with my posse, not recognizing the extent of my awkwardness with each passing step. But I was a wee first-year, so I’ll cut myself a break. The student patrol officers, or SPOs, to add to our running list, leaned against the wall facing the KAV. Were they judging me? Yes. Do I blame them? No. I looked terrified and lost.

With obvious trepidation, I approached the OSA worker and got my first official hand stamp. I was ready to pop it, lock it and drop it on the dance floor, in that order, and with about as much prowess as you would expect. After about 10 minutes of meandering around the KAV and attempting to dance with a clearly unenthused girl, I felt overwhelmed. So I left. But I felt like I had gained something. I felt like a hero returning from battle, the stamp on my hand a reminder of challenges I faced. I can never forget.

My first-year misadventures aside, I genuinely miss the Etown dances and am looking forward to the upcoming Halloween dance. I anticipate a horde of costumed college students will swarm the dance floor on that fateful night. Do I wish that we still had regular dances? Actually, yes and no. If I had steak for dinner every night, I would probably stop viewing it as a delicacy for special occasions. If anything, I might get sick of the beefy flavor. That is to say, the rarity of Etown dances has made them far more special than when we actually had them.

Clubs also have the opportunity to put on dances without running the risk of appearing redundant now. While I certainly long for the cherished days of my youth, dances and all, I also recognize the value of making dances special events.

So, dance your heart out, and have a good time this weekend. Bust out those moves you’ve been practicing in your room. Don your wackiest costume, and embrace the awkwardness. That’s what an Etown dance should be like. Will regular dances ever return to Etown? Only time will tell. All I know is that I intend to rave in the KAV this weekend, and no one’s going to stop me. See you on the dance floor, Blue Jays.