I have danced The Milly, and it is silly.
Silly, yes, but undoubtedly fun. If you've ever danced the Macarena after downing a couple, or if you can admit to ever having set foot in Polly Esther's; if you have ever danced the hora at a Jewish wedding, or done the wave at a sporting event; if you can remember a cheer from high school or college - in short, if you are simply not too fucking cool to risk looking silly, then you too might take to The Milly.
The Milly is the city-commissioned dance-step for the new millennium, dreamt up by Lois Weisberg at the Department of Cultural Affairs, the force behind anything remotely related to Chicago and the millennium. Choreographed by Harrison McEldowney, whose resumé ranges from River North Dance Company to the Barcelona Olympics, and composed by jingle-Jedi Wade Hubbard, the thirty-two-count line dance uses non-incendiary Chicago legends and landmarks as verbal cues for its relatively easy hand gestures and shuffles.
"Walk, walk to the John Hancock/Count down the millennium clock/Move it back, It's the Jordan attack/Move to the music now, don't hold back. Shuffle just a little to the left/Shuffle just a little to the right/Walk on down to Magnificent Mile/Boogie to the beat with that Sosa style." You move your arms like the hands on a clock. You make like you're doing a jump shot. You swing an imaginary bat just like... well, you know.
Conspicuously absent from the song are, of course, any moves that represent Chicago's not-so-joyful side, like recent achievements in law enforcement (which could be pantomimed by shooting an imaginary gun), or the motivation to finally tear down Cabrini Green (represented by rubbing one's hands together). There was at least one dance move didn't make the cut:
"I fly out of there frequently and I think it's a very good airport, but O'Hare was nixed," explains McEldowney, pointing both his hands diagonally, like he's directing runway traffic with those enormous flashlights.
As far as McEldowney knows, Chicago is the only city with its own dance step. Of course it is, and when the other cities find out, they're likely to bust our metropolitan balls. But so what? Only through the very act of throwing oneself into this pantomime of Windy City pride are we able to celebrate a characteristic that's not mentioned in the song, one that is more enduring than even the legends of Sammy or Michael: Chicago's chronic, Midwestern lack of sophistication.
If you can't see the logic in that, then maybe you oughta spend New Year's Eve in L.A.
(Ellen Fox)
copyright 1999 New City Communications, Inc.