I broke several parts of The Internets in the past…
But I was persuaded that, despite the fact that the Technology Gods seem to hold grudges against me, I wouldn’t live to see Google fail a research.
Well, I was wrong. Again.
I did manage to confuse my browser enough to force it to give up and not even offer me some alternatives… No, it just forfeited.
And I’ll have to call Dad tomorrow to thank him for being the inspiration behind this coup.
Long story short, when Little Bro and I were young, Dad would never dance. NEVER. He did, however brag a lot about a dance he supposedly mastered. The Frutencaille (or something that sounds like that). We never knew if it even existed, and I think that the mystery and the confusion were the main reasons Dad stuck to his story for at least four decades, now.
I remember that when we insisted, he used to say that he would gladly dance the Frutencaille at my wedding. I think he even promised that, but I’m not sure 100%. He probably got nervous when I got engaged in 2001… I just hope he didn’t have a sigh of relief when my fiancé called the wedding off a couple of months prior to the big day.
Of course I could trick Mom into telling me it was all made up, which it probably is. But I like to keep the mystery alive… I’d like to think that Dad does have a secret agent dance move up his sleeve.
But tonight, I was weak for a moment. And I did something that has become natural to a lot of us, in 2022. I asked my friend Google what he had to tell me about Frutencaille. I kept my expectations low, thinking I would probably get some alternative choices, most likely in foreign languages.
No, non, nej, nada.
Which doesn’t mean that Dad isn’t part of a very exclusive circle who preserves the secret around the mysterious dance move. Maybe they are just really, really good at doing so.
And I sure think Dad could be that kind of guy.