morris men and dancing dreams

Sometimes, I just love my job.

Last night, I got to hang out with the Bridgetown Morris Men for an article I’m working on for the spring. I’ve seen several of their performances in town, and these guys are something approaching cultural icons to me and my friends. Still, I had no idea how fun it would be to visit with them.

I only caught the last forty-five minutes or so of their weekly rehearsal, and I felt like I’d gotten a good workout just watching them. Morris dancing is definitely aerobic activity, and not for sissies. I’m still wondering how Morris dancers can look so manly while skipping about, wearing bells, and waving hankies in the air, but these guys have it covered.

If you’d like to see what these men do, check out some of their online performance videos. (My favorite is the first one: White Ladies Aston.) I spent most of the evening talking with Hugo (wearing sunglasses in the video), Phil (in the flowered hat), and Ed (new to the group, and not in the videos). They were all warm and welcoming, even when I was trying to wear my “reserved reporter” demeanor — a difficult task for me, especially when I tagged along to the pub where the group treated themselves and the gathered patrons to some hearty beer songs.

I had a blast with these guys! I was reluctant to leave, but when 10:30 p.m. rolled around, I knew I had better head home (clear on the other side of town). As I parted, I was invited to come back any time, and to bring friends.

So, last night I dreamt about Morris dancing. Then I dreamt about rock climbing. Then more Morris dancing.

This morning, I awoke exhausted. But still smiling.