Rusty Robot

Instructions Noun [Latin: ‘Ferrugineae Robot’]

With ‘Robot’ bodypopping techniques, dancers move their limbs in a way that imitates the mechanical movements of an efficient robot.

However, with ‘Rusty Robot’ bodypopping techniques, dad dancers move their decrepit fatherly limbs in a way that imitates the misfiring mechanical movements of a corroded, debilitated, inefficient, ceased-up ‘Tin Man’ robot, plagued with abrupt malfunctioning jolty stops.

Origins

Back is the summer bliss of 1974, the illusionary ‘Robot’ bodypoppin’ streetdancin’ craze exploded into a mechanised frenzy in rural France, triggered by Michael Jackson’s famous ‘Dancing Machine’ performance.

Monsieur Pascal Boulangerie was completely unware of this global ‘Dancing Machine’ phenomena, primarily due to his l’detestatiôn (hatred) of televisions, music, dancing or machines (apart from his cherished burgundy Citroën 2CV, with mustard trim…and sunroof).

However, his four-year-old son, Bàçon (pronounced ‘Bacon’) was right onto it, big time (grand temps)!

Yes indeedy (Qui Qui), this little French fella was totally obsessed with watching robot imitating performances on TV, to the beat of scintillating Electrofunk beeps, boops and other electro-mechanical sounds.

Whilst Papa Pascal slaved away in his commercial kitchen, rolling and curling raw croissants, ready for the townsfolk, young Bàçon would cover himself in aluminium foil and bodypop until the cows came home…or until Papa finished rolling and curling raw croissants, ready for the townsfolk (whichever came first).

Pascal never understood the farfelu (crazy) metalised actions of his toddler boy, but he unconditionally adored (adored) his son, and with Bàçon’s fifth birthday just around the corner, Pascal vowed to give Bàçon any present he wanted, as an eternal loving gift, Père à Fils (Father to Son).

Pascal – “Ce que vous voulez pour votre fils cinquième anniversaire?” (What would you like for your fifth birthday son?)

Bàçon – “Machine à Danser Papa!” (a ‘Dancing Machine’ Dad!)

Pascal – “Zut Alors!” (D’oh!)

The bar was très high, the challenge was set, the task was tremendous. Pascal was scared. Well peureux!

With no prior skills, experience nor knowledge of mechanical engineering, applied mathématiques or advanced électroniques. Pascal had a learning curve steeper than the Eiffel Tower on stilts. Très Mauvais. Calamité.

Notwithstanding, Pascal got stuck in, and after three solid weeks of evening research & building, Papa proudly presented his embryotic automated creation to his garçon, at his fifth birthday party.

Bàçon initially appeared puzzled by the pettiness (smallness) of the newspaper-wrapped parcelet.

Once unwrapped, the Birthday Boy could not hide his disappointment, as he stared at the light bulb with a tangled mess of wires hanging out of it.  

Papa desperately tried to reassure Bàçon, in front of his thirty-two schoolmates, that it was a highly advanced, intelligent ‘Dancing Machine’ eyeball, but Bàçon’s disappointment remained true.

Nonetheless, Pascal was so determined to build the best dancing robot in the whole wide World, he spent the following twenty-seven years producing a cavorting cyborg, with painstaking precision.

The ‘Rusty Robot’ could rock, rhumba, boogie and jive with the best of ‘em, notwithstanding the sudden & sporadic jerky piston movements, sticking & jamming to the beat of da drums!

Bàçon, now 32 with a wife and two sons (Jambon & Bougre), was so impressed with the Rusty Robot, that he sold it to a Saudi Arabian nightclub owner for US$4million and a gold-plated Citroën 2CV, with mustard trim…and sunroof.

Pascal undoubtedly earnt that gold car, and he never had to roll or curl another raw croissant (or build another robot) ever again. Jours heureux!