Junior Boys, Portland v NYC, and Dancing

Any person who works the day job will tell you that they just don't get out as much as they used to. It is hard to fit it in, and harder to stay up past ten. I have to be at work by 7:30 every morning, which means getting up by 6:00. If I'm out until midnight, that leaves very little sleep, and a lot of coffee drinking in the morning to make up for it. Which leaves me jittery, nervous, anxious, and tired as all hell by the end of the day.
That said, I choose the nights to do this very carefully. Last night was one of those moments. I have been dying to see the Junior Boys. Their music is so lifting, electric, head nodding, and occasionally ass shaking (although we'll get to that later). They were playing at the Doug Fir, with an opening band I was not crazy about, so we showed up late. We had a VIP pass, good for two free tickets, but it turns out the pass was from 2008 and was not accepted. We bought two tickets off someone outside the venue, although they were still selling tickets at the door!
This gets me to my first point. In Portland, music shows rarely sell out. It's nuts. In New York, we would never be able to walk up to the door and buy tickets. We would have to plan months in advance. Clearly, it's a numbers thing. But it's also because Portland is between San Francisco and Seattle and bands come through during the week. Portland is a quiet, sleepy city. A city that goes to bed earlier than any city I've ever lived in. People are not rowdy.
This gets me to my second point. When you go to a show that rocks, and you are stoked to see them, and they are playing music with beats so groovy you imagine yourself doing flips through the air, WHY THE FUCK WOULDN'T YOU DANCE? The show starts off with a bang, but people are doing what my friend calls "The White Dance," a forward movement of the head and shoulders so slight that you might miss it if you looked down. But upon looking down, you might see their knees slightly bending, or perhaps, a tap of the foot. Mostly, the arms are crossed at the chest, eyes straight ahead on the band, the spotlights shining on those stark, white faces. It's as if they forgot what they were hearing, or forgot how to move. After several songs, a few people wake up and add in an arm twist, or a pelvis thrust. And clapping. Lots of clapping. What kind of fans would we be without being a part of the percussion section?
So, we have the the white dancers. They are the majority. And then, over in the corner, we have the hippy dancers. This doesn't really need any explanation, as most of us have experience dancing next to a hippy dancer. Most of the time, it was because we were at a show where there was some sort of hippy music. But, folks, this was an electro-pop show, so in your mind, just speed up those wavy arms a few beats.
White dancers, hippy dancers, and where would we be without the one or two acid dancers? These dancers are the nemesis of the white dancers. The white dancers want to stay in their one foot area bubble and never be touched, whereas the acid dancers forget anyone else is in the room with them. Arms and legs stretched out in every single direction, spinning in circles and shaking their fists, they continue dancing whether the band is between songs or has stopped playing all together and the house music comes on afterwards.
At least they know how to have a good time and appreciate the beats, rather than being afraid to move an arm or leg for fear of looking out of place. But, why can't people just dance and have a good time. This band demands to be danced to.