Do Re Mi on the Loudspeakers, or, Aunt Flo Has Left the Building

I was crying in front of the laptop, moved to tears by the viral video of 200 people dancing to The Sound of Music's Do Re Mi at a train station in Antwerp. From the first splash of the salt-laced liquid on my desk, I had to wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I cried and contemplated, unable to enjoy the strange wonder of the moment.

A quick assessment of the facts didn't lead to me to any conclusions: a catchy tune reverberating from loudspeakers across a huge expanse of stone and marble; people going about their business; a few of them breaking into dance; more and more joining in; and, finally, a whole lotta happiness! As it ended, I remained in front of my computer, stumped. I couldn't understand why my emotions needed out of my body so badly because of a bunch of Belgians.

That's when the first of two truths became evident. The logical idea of questioning my hormones reminded me immediately that it was, indeed, almost that time of the month. My visit to the loo a few minutes later proved that it was exactly that time of the month. I felt strangely proud of the fact that my mind was so in tune with my body that I could pinpoint just when my monthly need for Tampax would commence. I am nothing if not self-aware.

The second truth--what is left when I consider that even hormones need some basis in logic with which to operate--is that I love spectacle. I love boardwalks with neon lights flashing and amusement rides twirling in the hot night. I love propagandist montages with soaring eagles and black and white photos of immigrants. I love gospel choirs. I'd love the circus if it didn't smell so bad. I am putty in the hands of those seeking to play with people's emotion. I love a parade!

It's a nice video. It would have something for all the senses, if only one could feel the grime of the train station and smell the body odor of 600 Europeans. It filled me to the brim with happiness, forcing out these womanly tears of the temporarily insane. But so what if I'm a little nuts. Worse things have happened. Worse things will continue to happen. And when they do, spectacles like these that will remind me that it is still possible to be overcome by something good.