Yes!

(video added so you can download and have the actual song to which I refer later as the background music for your reading pleasure.)

It was 1988. I was an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, an active participator in the local Young Adults Ward and the Ward Physical Fitness Director. I had actually come up with the idea of combining singles mingling with singles moving. It was a kick ass dang good idea and the Young Adults (aged 18-30) all jumped on the bandwagon, leg-warmers, headbands and all.

I was excited to lead the aerobics class; dancing and aerobics being my passion back then. I was also excited to have my recently-returned missionary boyfriend of almost-three-years being front and center each and every night that I taught class. We met Mon, Wed, Fri at 6:00am for an hour and Tue and Thu evenings at 8:00pm for an hour. He was there every night, egging me on to shake my ass really get the class enthused and moving.

There were elaborately choreographed numbers where everyone got to learn the dance and we used them time after time so that even the most clumsiest of aerobicizers could get a grip. There were grand traveling numbers that got us bouncing around the entire carpeted gymnasium/basketball court/auditorium. Circle-up numbers where we did a Hokey-Pokey sort of performance. And lots of laughter.

For an hour each day, we bounced around that gym laughing and bumping into each other and getting our bodies moving. I led my friends through movements that got their heart rates up, their flirtation levels up and their eyes up. We interacted. We danced. We hopped. We jumped. We breathed.

I picked music that inspired me to move and bounce and laugh. Said boyfriend helped me mix and compile the most fucking totally awesome hour-long tape of music that would absolutely not allow anyone to stop moving. I picked one particular song, "Yes!" by Mary Clayton from the ever-popular-most-raved-about soundtrack of that time, Dirty Dancing. I didn't really listen to the words of the song (big mistake). All I knew was that that song got me bouncing about instantly.

So, one Thursday night, we were all revved up and dancing about the gymnasium as "Yes!" thundered out of the boombox behind me. Laughter was bouncing off the walls as much as we were. There was not a still body anywhere to be seen. Didn't matter how fat or skinny, how old or young, male or female, the entire room was packed with moving people. Boyfriend, front and center, was casting inviting grins my way and all was right with the world.

In walks three white-haired Suits looking all patriarchal and proper. When I felt the invasion, I glanced at them long enough to see that they stood at the entryway, each with one foot in and one foot out, jaws agape, faces white. They each wore looks of horror. I felt the stares of the Suits more than I saw them and I watched as, one by one, the jubiliant exercisers stopped moving. The high energy of the gym was sucked out of the space instantaneously.

The middle one, Stake President SoAndSo pointed dramatically to my best friend who happened to also be the Relief Society President of our ward. Then he pointed militarily at the hallway, his silent communications saying, "You! Get your ass to my office now." She moved timidly toward the door, following the Suits out the door. We all looked at each other, uncertain as to the problem and, yet, reluctant to begin bouncing about again. I suddenly became aware of the words of the chorus blasting through the air...

Yes!
We're gonna fall in love
And it feels so right
Yes!
We're gonna make love
It's gonna be tonight
I can just imagine
Huggin and teasin and
Lovin and squeezin all night

SHIT! Shoot.

I turned the music down thinking that maybe it had been just because I had it up louder than was proper for the church gymnasium, yet knowing it was the actual words that had bothered them. Especially that one certain line...

The sucking of our energy was plainly visible and I realized that I had lost the entire group. I felt deflated. The group unenthusiastically began moving again, their moves decidedly less happy and more constrained. Half-heartedly I finished out the rest of the session, so very grateful when the cool-down music started. I imagined I heard a sigh of relief sweep through the group.

Two days later I was called into the Young Adult Ward Bishop's office. Apparenlty, he had been called into the Stake President's office over the Thursday Night incident. Apparently, the music I had chosen was inappropriate. Apparently, I was being held responsible for the entire Young Adult Ward's moral behavior. Apparently, my choice of bouncy music was not at all appropriate, let alone in the church, and especially let alone broadcasting it to a group of impressionable young adults (again, aged 18-30).

I was admonished to be more thoughtful about what I allowed into my presence because music such as that would surely lead to my immoral fall from grace. (Little did he know I was well on my way there already, music or no.) Then, I was released from my position.

I still smile and bounce when I hear the song.