8
Daily Nebraskan
Friday, April 1, 1983
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Entertainment
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ofs Duot as Ciao'dl as ife looks
By Billy Shatter
You know them that "certain couple" on the dance
floor that all eyes remain glued to. Sure, the most physi
cally attractive people will always get their share of side
ways glances. But where does your attention ultimately
rivet? You know as well as I do, it's on I he Worst Dancers
on the Floor, For years, this select group has been hoard
ing the attention of "watchers." I should know, I was a
watcher once myself. But word is out! Now you too can
share in some of the spotlight! Bad dancing is not as hard
as it looks!
Although purists insist that the truly great terrible
dancers "are born, not made," bad dancing can be
learned. Also, a recent study has shown that it is not ne
cessarily true that it is more difficult for blacks to be
lousy dancers. In fact, the opposite is true. When one's
race is stereotyped (and perhaps unfairly at that) as being
"good dancers" (remember the "natural rhythm" scare of
the '50s?) it is obviously much easier to be recognized
as a bad dancer.
In any case, as a public service to Lincoln's watchers
and dancers, here are some tips for all those who aspire
to be that "certain couple" . . . that couple that is able to
invoke awe in innocent bystanders. . . that couple so
lousy that other dancers stand in a circle and clap!
TIP 1) IGNORE THE BEAT. Try to move your body
to any beat different from the song. Experienced bad
dancers often hum a little tune in their heads to keep
from accidentally falling into the dance song's beat. Great
for that "different drummer' look.
TIP 2) LOOK BORED. This can easily be accomplished
in conjunction with Tip 1, if a boring song is hummed in
one's head.
TIP 3) LOOK LIKE YOU'RE DOING SOMETHING
IMPORTANT. Everyone knows that strutting your stuff
is serious business, but only the accomplished bad dancer
can translate this into body movements. Think deep
thoughts and close you eyes, or look up a lot.
TIP 4) WEAR YOUR COAT. This gives you that
much-sought-after "temporary dancer" effect, so popular
in Lincoln's hotspots lately, and besides that, it won't
get stolen.
TIP 5) FALL DOWN OR JUMP UP IN THE AIR FOR
NO REASON AT ALL. TWICE. Loss-of-balance feats may
be considered old hat by some, but they still get a laugh.
If jumping, it sometimes helps to pretend that you're a
big exclamation point and the singer is reading an
exciting novel.
TIP 6) ACT LIKE YOU'RE PLAYING A SPORT.
Particularly popular lately: "the Backgammon" and "the
Water Polo." Mix in a few women's pushups for a good
measure. (A word of warning: trends in sport dancing
change quickly. For example, "the Basketball" developed
into "the Poao Stick" in England (later shortened to "the
Pogo" in United States and is definitely "out."))
TIP 7) KEEP ALL YOUR MUSCLES REAL STIFF
EXCEPT FOR LIKE MAYBE YOUR NECK. Another
interesting variation on this is to just hop from one foot
to the other, offbeat of course. Keep the rest of your
body quite stiff.
Keep these handy tips in mind next time you "step
out" and you will be sure to get the attention you so
rightly deserve. See you at the clubs!
1 he wovst fast food joints in Lincoln: 1(0 i errible u ime
Where if tastes as bad as it looks
By Chris Burbach and Chris Welsch
Although Lincoln has the regular slew of gut-bomb fast
food joints, truly bad food aficionados will have a diwi
cult time satiating their perverted tastes.
In a half-hearted search for Lincoln's worst dining, our
uneager palates tested the tastes of the K-Mart Cafeteria,
4601 Vine St. and Kwik Shop No. 637, 2710 W St.
The food at both places was, well, up and down.
However, Kwik Shop's microwave tacos took the bad
cake. The tacos were attractively packaged in a plastic
Dining Review
box and garnished with something that looked like a cross
between a jalepeno pepper and a biology frog.
The taco shell was an unsightly off-brown color. The
meat (?) went beyond unsightly; it was darker brown than
the leathery shell.
After perusing the myriad of frozen sandwiches in the
Kwik Shop refrigerator, we decided on the tacos and a
flour-tortilla combination burrito each. The next step was
the microwave.
In five minutes, the cuisine was sufficiently radiated.
We paid the minimal charge and staggered toward the
humble abode. The burritos weren't bad. They were
average frozen burritos; nothing more and nothing less.
However, the tacos tasted like really old hamburger,
Filled with preservatives and a very old shell, also full
of chemicals. We hypothesized these tacos resulted in
one entry to the "Give Lincoln a Middle Name Contest"
- "The Amazing City of Edible Dirt." (Really.)
The only satisfaction culled from the tacos was pushing
the biology frog peppers down the rat-hole in the kitchen
counter. We knew he would fare no better than we did.
The K-Mart Cafeteria was not as bad as we thought
it would be.
We were disappointed to find the steam table closed
hence eliminating what promised to be bad dining. No
baked scrod could be had, so instead, we dined on a
cheeseburger, french fries, cherry pie and a reuben.
The reuben had mysterious little hard bits in it and
left our dining companion moaning about intestinal
disorder. She claimed the sandwich was burned, but she
ate almost all of it.
Foul-tasting pickle slices gave the only life to the
harmlessly bland hot dog. The bun was reminiscent of
the sweet rolls Heidi saved for months to take to the old
lady on the hill - stale and hard.
The French fries met our ideas about what baked
scrod must taste like. It seemed that they were either
sea potatoes or at least fried in the same grease as the
feared scrod.
A slice of cherry pie miserably failed the Welsch
Plop Test. The test grades a pastry according to the
sound created when the pastry hits a plate from the
altitude of one foot. A gentle plop indicates a good
dessert, while a resounding smack indicates unpalati
bility. The K-Mart cherry pie rattled the plate -something
beyond a resounding smack.
An orange spa is one highlight of the K-Mart dining
experience. A pull on the handle of the orange spa
machine sends the machine into a weries of whirs and
convulsions, after which it emits a frothy beverage intend
ed, we thought, to taste like an orange ice cream drink.
It did not.
The cheeseburger was not that bad, to the credit of
the chef at K-Mart. Although the bun had some character
istics of a Heidi-nature, the overall taste was pleasant.
The tomato was fresh. The burger was gritty but good.
Aside from an occasional flashing blue light and the
chattering of the shoppers, the atmosphere was like many
other cafeterias.
FftED GOES TO COLLEGE
You might think all we have to do at the Daily
Nebraskan is sit around and report the news.
Not so. For one thing, we have to wait for the news to
happen. In those idle moments, we sometimes make up
lists. What follows is a list of the 100 worst songs we
could think of. It's not scientific (after all we're journal
ists, not scientists), but here it is :
1. Loving you, Minnie
Riperton
2. Billy Don't Be a
Hero, Bo Donaldson and the
Heywoods
3. Havin' My Baby, Paul
Anka
4. I Write the Songs,
Barry Manilow
5. Muscles, Diana Ross
6. Physical, Olivia
Newton John
7. Mr. Roboto, Styx
8. Shannon, Henry Gross
9. Earache My Eye,
Cheech and Chong
10. Can't Smile Without
You, Barry Manilow
11. Pillow Talk, Sylvia
12. Afternoon Delight,
Starland Vocal Band
13. The Night the Lights
Went Out in Georgia, Vicki
Lawrence
14. Weekend in New
England, Barry Manilow
15. I'm the Happiest Girl
in the Whole U.S.A., Donna
Fargo
16. My Sharona, The
Knack
17. My Melody of Love,
Bobby Vinton
Train,
18. I Love, Tom T. Hall
19. Who's Crying Now,
Journey
20. Jack and Diane, Bill
Allen and Jeff Goodwin
(take our word for it)
21. Eye of the Tiger,
Survivor
22. Freight Train, Boxcar
Willie
23. Another One Bites
the Dust, Queen
24. Morning
Sheena Easton
25. Breaking Up Is Hard
To Do, Neil Sedaka
26. I Am Woman, Helen
Reddy
27. The Night Chicago
Died, Paper Lce
28. Any release by Reo
Speedwagon
29. Copacabana, Barry
Manilow
30. Daddy Don't You
Walk So Fast, Wayne New
ton 31. Watching Scotty
Grow, Bobby Goldsboro
32. Fernando, Abba
33. Endless Love, Diana
Ross and Lionel Ritchie
Continued on Page 9
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