I remember once, I must have been about 20, I was living in Santa Cruz and my parents lived in New York. I was heartbroken and sobbing over what, I can't recall. I phoned my father and after listening to me cry for some time, he became very quiet. Then, in a stern voice he said, "Get up and dance!"
"Dance!" he barked. "Get out of bed right now, and while I'm on the phone, put on some music and start dancing!"
"But I don't want to dance!" I cried even harder.
"Do it!" he shouted. "Do it now!"
And of course, I always did what my father told me.
The song at the sidebar is playing in my apartment, and Daddy, wherever you are, I'm still listening to you, and I'm still dancing.