The next day, however, I found myself humming this peppy tune. I really was stuck on it. I couldn't get it out of my head. I had to have it! I went to a (totally legal) download site, and ripped it right up to my media player. I pressed play. The music began.

What happened next I remember as one recalls a dream, hazy and confused. As the dulcet tones wafted from my desktop speakers, my feet began tapping. My knees started to pulse up and down. What was happening? I was beginning to rise! It was as though I had lost all control of my body to the music, the relentless beat.

I was upright now, standing before my computer like an acolyte in worship of some strange and ancient God. I felt the vibrations enter my arms, and my hands formed into a cupped shape. They commenced to rise; higher, higher, they were on my head now!

The sensation reached my hips; a kind of buzzing, a humming as if a thousand angry hornets had possessed my loins! They began to pulse! They began to sway! My hands, seemingly stapled to the top of my head, started to flick back and forth in emulation of the orneriest horse you ever did see! Holy Crap! I WAS CARAMEL DANCING!

There I was: Lumberjack, Farmer, Man's Man... doing the very same dance as the silliest of the silly gals were doing not a few days before! But the oddest part, the thing I would never have expected in my wildest dreams: It was fun. It was a blast! I had never felt this way; so free, so loose, so... silly!

As I bucked and waved, as the undulations worked their way through my body, a wonderful thing happened. It felt as if every chain that regularly hung from my frame, every link of which had been forged by a life of tough work and the stress of running a household, was being flung from me into the ether, every grind casting ton after ton of steel off of my weary corpse. As each invisible chain flew, I felt more and more calm, more and more relaxed, infinitely more at peace.

As the last tones of the song melted away into the air, I stopped. My hands came down, my hips stilled. To my surprise, there was moisture on my face... This transcendent experience had actually caused me to weep Man-Tears of Joy! I stepped, wobbly at first, over to my comfortable chair, and allowed the afterglow of this sensation to wash over me. I seemed to wake, as from a long autumn nap, rested and restored. I could face the rest of the day clean.

Many of you men out there, manly men, men of strength and honor, may scoff at this experience. You may even call into question my own manliness. This is a mistake. Men, you should, nay you must occasionally cast your hardened armour aside, lay down your weapons of steel, fold your mighty mighty vestments and allow yourself, if for but a moment at a time, to be silly. It is good for you. It is cleansing. It is altogether wholesome. It will, in time, make you a Manlier Man.

I even would postulate that the Caramel Dance has so much power that it could have changed history. I assert that if this had happened:

Yes, that if Hitler had done the Caramel Dance, it would have had the power to get even him to chill the fuck out. He might even have stuck with the whole art thing, not becoming a vicious Nazi Shithead, and World War II might never have happened.

Yes, friends, the Caramel Dance has that kind of POWER!