Reversing Forklift

Instructions Noun [Latin: ‘Et Aversandi Forklift’]

Pretend that you’re sitting tall on an industrial forklift truck, with your left hand grasping the ‘Spinner Knob’ on the steering wheel:

Slip your right thumb into your trouser back pocket, and twist your head around, so that you’re looking behind you.

Then, slowly spin your whole body around on the spot, whilst rotating the steering wheel Spinner Knob with your left hand.

After a couple of full reversing rotations, throw your right thumb up into the air, whack out a big beaming smile then mime ‘Owight Mate!’…

Origins

Dave Smith was a happy chappie, loving husband and dedicated father to his three youngsters, Dave, Dave & Davina. 

He tirelessly worked for over thirty years, as a multi-award-winning forklift truck driver for a well-known retail distribution centre, near Newcastle Upon Tyne. His acclaims of outstanding achievement included ‘Warehouse Employee of the Month’ (213 times), ‘Annual Productivity Award’ (for seven years running) and the enviable ‘Corporate Personality of the Year’ (twice).

All of Dave’s work colleagues respected him dearly, mainly due to his epic driving skills, deep-bellied laughter and general zest for life!

Some folk even thought that Dave was destined to become Managing Director, and although he had countless offers of promotion for superior managerial positions, Dave continued his beloved role as 'Senior Forklift Operative (Area 4)'.

Managing people, falsifying financials and deviously playing around with devilish corporate politics were of absolutely no interest to Dave. All he ever wanted to do was to drive his powered industrial truck around a package-packed warehouse, lifting, storing and retrieving palletised cargos of e-commerce merchandise, with clinical precision.

A few fellow workers would even take annual leave during Dave’s shifts, just to watch him speed around shelving, whip around racking and reversing around restrooms, like a tabard-covered rodeo-rider throwing his buckaroo bronco around an entangled forest, with meticulous exactness!

Global fame ensued forthwith accordingly, as Dave became immortalised forever in the Glennis Book of Records for the ‘Longest Forklift Truck Wheelie’ (17.283m), ‘Longest Free-Flowing Forklift Reverse Spin’ (17.283 hours) and ‘Most 62" LED TVs per Forklift Truckload’ (17.283 TVs). 

Things couldn’t have gone much better for a beaming Dave Smith…until the following year (2003), when things went dramatically downhill. Beaming Dave was beaming no more.

Unfortunately, the well-known retail distribution corporation was taken over by a larger more-well-known American retail distribution corporation, to the anguish of all staff. Within three weeks of the acquisition, an inhumanly ruthless ‘efficiency savings’ drive desecrated Dave’s sacred warehouse of all manual workers, manual lifting equipment and restrooms, to make way for a fully operational, fully automated warehouse, fully filled with funless artificially-intelligenced robot stackers & packers, movers & shakers.

Almost overnight, after thirty tireless years, Dave’s skilful skills became superfluous and his trusty forklift became redundant.

Woe. Full.

However, after three struggling years of tireless & mirthless job seeking misery, Dave Smith once again became a happy chappie, by becoming a local fairground ‘Dodgem Car Attendant’…and folks from miles around came to see him nail reverse spins!

Good on ya Dave Smith, this dance is dedicated to you fella!

El Guitaro

Instructions Noun [Latin: ‘Et Guitaro’]

‘El Guitaro’ is the daddy interpretation of the universally popular ‘Air Guitar’, which is essentially an elaborate and embarrassing imaginary performance of an imaginary rock, heavy-metal or acoustic guitar hero, depending on your favourite music genre, personal style & preference. 

Just throw yourself into an exaggerated impersonation of your treasured guitar-pluckin’ idol, with lashings of lip-synch, sizable shows of solos and mucho riffs of twinkly twangs. Nail it Daddy-O!

Origins

Massive moustachioed José Urbano Angel Nacho (‘JUAN’) was a bad man. A very, very bad man.

In fact, if you could pick a number between 1 and 10, with 1 being ‘Very Good’ and 10 being ‘Very Bad’, then JUAN would have stolen all the numbers before you had a chance to pick one, thrown them all onto a campfire, then rode his horse around the naked flames, cackling like a deranged madman and firing bullets into the sky… just for merry malevolent & malicious mirth!

During the late 19^th Century, evil-eyed JUAN led a hardened bunch of Mexican ‘Pistoleros’ banditos for a decade and a day, creating maniacal mayhem for residents trying to live in peace within the rugged western Mexican province of Sinaloa. All regional inhabitants should’ve been truly sick of JUAN and his Pistoleros bursting into their pioneer pueblos uninvited, and running amuck for days at a time…however, they weren’t.

In fact, they all openly looooooved JUAN visiting them! Hardened men, women, children & Xoloitzcuintlis (Mexican hairless dogs) became obsessed with JUAN and his extraordinary, well-polished addictive talent.

Si Si, bad boy JUAN could play a meeeeeeeeeean Mariachi (popular Mexican music genre).

When Juan came to town, everyone descended into the local Tequila Bar, to spend an evening being hypnotised by the entrancing, fantastical sounds emanating from his Guitarrón Mexicano (large Mexican guitar). JUAN’s hypnotic playing of his enormous, deep-bodied, six-string acoustic bass became legendary, granting him the affectionate nickname of ‘El Guitaro’ (‘The Guitar’ in Mexican).

Like Robin Hood before him, El Guitaro is still considered as a folk legend by folk today, due to the sinister anti-establishmentarian outcomes of his euphoric and playfully pervasive performances.

 

Yer see, the real reason for El Guitaro’s badness twaz his sneaky ability to steal belongings from every member of his audiences, quite literally under their noses.

Whilst hypnotising crowded cantinas and stuffed saloons with his powerful, twiddly crescendos and outrageously dramatic arm swinging chord-plucks, El Guitaro’s band of banditos would prowl around the packed rooms, taking wads from wallets, pearls from purses, opulent necklaces from opulent necks and posh pocket-watches from posh pockets.

Once the Pistoleros had cleared up and scuttled out of the saloon, El Guitaro would explode into a rapturous crescendoed encore, before watching the zombified crowd waddle home in trance-like states, beaming from ear-to-ear.

The reoccurring mystery of precious belongings repeatedly going missing perplexed the people of Sinaloa for a decade and a day. In their hypnotised eyes, they were frustratingly unable to uncover the truth behind the multiple materialistic disappearances, but it definitely didn’t have had anything to do with fleeting visits from their masterful musical maestro, ‘El Guitaro’…even though the instances of thievery immediately stopped once he sadly burnt to death*.

* ‘El Guitaro’ met his maker in 1892, following an unfortunate frenzied Guitarrón Mexicano solo, right next to an unfeasibly large desert campfire, surrounded by his beloved entranced Pistoleros. Regrettably, his zombie followers remained completely unfazed, as he frenziedly tried to extinguish his frazzled clothes of frenzied flames. They all stared for an encore, but their master was already downstairs, due to the devious symphonic demands of Beelzebub.

The Caterpillar

Instructions Noun [Latin: ‘Involvolus’]

Lie on the dancefloor face down, with your legs as straight as possible, and your arms bent either side of your big manly dad chest, so that your palms are touching the floor.

With an explosive, pulsating burst of energy, spring off from the ground with your hands, to kick-start a rippling ‘wave’ effect throughout your entire body, from head to toe.

By energetically shifting weight from your upper to lower body and vice versa, the athletic aim is to try and mimic a wiggly-worm wiggling along forward or backwards, depending on your preference or ability.

Caterpillaring ‘nirvana’ can be achieved by successfully writhing across an entire emptied dancefloor ‘runway’, between two human walls of rapturous shrieking onlookers.

To reach ‘World Dad Dancing Champion’ or ‘Legend’ status, start with a hand-stand or finish off with a jumping ‘Five Star’, as demonstrated on BBC Radio Five Live.

Origins

Soft rays of sunlight rose from the sleepy desert darkness, when King Nebuchadnezzar II gazed admiringly over his terraced creation of natural beauty, the fabled ‘Hanging Gardens of Babylon’.

The year was 562 BC, and this Iraqi ruler justifiably felt pompously smug, self-righteous & egotistically-satisfied for building a true wonder of the ancient World.

As a devoted gesture of love for his wife, Queen Amytis, King Nebuchadnezzar II spent over forty-three years supervising this remarkable irrigating engineering feat, involving an ascending series of intricate tiered gardens of paradise, overlooking the tempting Tower of Babel.

However, little did he know that his splendid Babylonian gardens would all be entirely destroyed within a single month, due the frenzied and relentless eating capabilities of the ‘Pink Bollworm Caterpillar’. Quite literally a single Pink Bollworm Caterpillar.

It has been universally depicted, by numerous ancient scribes, that just one larvae of this voracious feeder dropped into the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, from the wing of a passing pelican, and the resulting caterpillar hatched upon a particularly succulent and mouth-watering ‘Jericho Rose’ plant.

The forthcoming propensity of damage was veraciously insatiable! In other words, proper plant-chomping of Biblical proportions!

Soft rays of sunlight rose from the sleepy desert darkness, when King Nebuchadnezzar II gazed over his terraced gardens of total annihilation!?!  

Just one month later, this Iraqi ruler justifiably felt unpompously unsmug, unselfishly-unrighteous & unegotistically-dissatisfied. In fact, he was totally distraught…and so was Queen Amytis…and the whole of the Babylonian civilisation.

Today, it’s ironic that all modern dads try to celebrate the ‘Caterpillar’ in a creative form of dance, when it actually originates from the total destruction of one of the ‘Seven Wonders of the Ancient World’, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Fact.

Stackin' Shelves

Instructions Verb [Latin: ‘Stacking Crusta’]

Pretend that you’re a Supermarket Shelf-Stacker on a nightshift. Stand with an ample stance, parallel to an elevating series of fictitious Supermarket shelves. Then, starting fairly low, use both hands to stack invisible cans of preserved food (e.g. Baked Beans) onto the whimsical racking, in time to the beat. Work your way along each shelf, fancifully filling it with mysterious merchandise, then up to the next theoretical ledge.

Once you’ve filled the top shelf (at a stretch), turn around 90^o and repeat the productive process on a new empty shelving unit, quick-smart, forthwith, accordingly.

Origins

Back in 1982, Yuki Ikizumi knew how to throw a 忍者投げスター (Ninja Throwing Star). From an unripe early age, this Tokyo-based Japanese jouster had extraordinary wrist-flicking powers, which helped him dominate at youth martial arts tournaments, competing with foam Nunchakus, polystyrene Samurai swords and rubber throwing stars.  

Successive years, dedicated to honing these acrobatic sparring skills, put him in good stead for stacking preserved food products at his local ‘Big Ace Supermarket’ (ビッグエース). Now seventeen and skint, Yuki loved to show off his lightning-quick shelf-stacking abilities, during poorly-paid Saturday nightshifts, which became infamously known as the 'Tokyo Shift'.

During these epic supermarket stints, young guns challenged each other to overzealous shelf-stacking bouts, surrounded by jostling crowds of betting ‘Cool Kids’, for phenomenal cash winnings, tightly controlled by blinged-up Japanese gang clans.

Yuki would destroy his product-assorting competition, every time, anytime, and his notorious notoriety turned him into a local legend, due to his uncanny ability to repeatedly stack fifty cans of (sliced) Water Chestnuts in under ten seconds.

Stardom naturally followed Yuki, as well as adoring female fans, and marketing moguls, who desperately scrabbled over each other, to persuade Yuki to stack and endorse their Japanese household-named products. Yuki himself rapidly became a household name, covered in household-named merchandising adverts, from household-named Caps to household-named Shoes.

The pinnacle of fame occurred when Yuki appeared live on Japan's most popular TV show, 'Zip-Zap Ding-a-Ling' endurance gameshow, in which he continuously stacked cans of Baked Beans onto a conveyed shelf for over thirty-seven hours! Herculean effort!

No doubt, the Japanese nation had discovered a new star, with a new irritating 'Stack On, Stack Off!' catchphrase (newly forced by the marketing moguls), which spawned into a new irritating multimillion-pound merchandising empire.

Yuki now lives in relaxed and affluent retirement bliss, surrounded by an adoring family, and he still holds the official World Record for single-handedly stacking 100 packs of Wonton crispy noodles onto a 5ft high, 5ft wide pine shelf (official competition dimensions), in exact 147.38592 seconds.

よくやったよ (Well done Yuki!)

Jackhammer

Instructions Noun [Latin: ‘Jackhammer’]

Imagine that you’re a Big Butch Miner stooping over a heavy pneumatic rock drill, like a Silverback Mountain Gorilla on a toddler’s scooter. With a very wide stance, contort your face with an almighty effort, whilst tightly grasping the imaginary Jackhammer handle, and pressing your arms up and down to the beat of the drums, as if you’re drilling down to the Earth’s Core with haste.

Origins

In 1871, the infamous South African diamond rush was in full-swing, catalysed by ‘The Star of South Africa’, an 83 Carat Diamond, sold on the Victorian London Market for an eye-watering £25,000 (equivalent to approximately £47 Trillion today).

Spurred on by dreams of impending fortune, diamond-lovers from far and wide descended onto Kimberley, transforming this once barren, sleepy South African Townville into a hysterical mad fever-pitch of lunacy!

…and there was no finer hysterical mad fevered lunatic than ‘Big Jim Wade’, a butch extroverted mercenary from Cape Town, with biceps the size of obese Hippos.

Ja inderdaad (yes indeed), this carnival peacock would strut around the Kimberley diamond fields, irritating countless gem miners with his outrageous claims, like “I once dug up a Sapphire bigger than a man’s skull ja!” and “I can cut through rock faster than an overactive Ostrich can run ja!”

There was no doubt that he was the fastest tunnel digger in Africa, due to his uniquely engineered double-barrelled compressed-air pneumatic rock drill. However, due to popular unpopularity, Big Jim Wade quickly became known as the ‘Big Grim Maid’, with most miners desperately wanting to remove him from their senses, including sight, hearing and smell.

Then one night, during an almighty booze-up, a pack o’ miners challenged ‘Big Grim Maid’ (Big Jim Wade) to the challenge of challenges, for an enticing gem of a prize. Literally.

They persuaded Jim that if he jackhammered his way straight down to the Earth’s Core, he could claim the ultimate Jewel of Jewels, a naturally hardened, boulder-sized diamond of everlasting, incorruptible purity, known as ‘Earth Heart’.

Big Jim Wade kissed both of his gargantuan biceps, and with a smug smirk swore to jackhammer to the core, at Sunrise.

True to his word, at dawn a silhouetted Big Jim Wade stooped over his hydraulic piston-powered drill, like a Silverback Mountain Gorilla on a toddler’s scooter. He was surrounded by an engrossed baying pack of hangover-sufferers, desperate to witness the disappearance of the bothersome puffed-up carnival peacock, once and for all.

Big Jim Wade did not disappoint.

When his almighty Jackhammer cranked into life, its pneumatic power pummelled rock to pebbly powder in an instant. With mammoth arm-muscle power firmly in control, Jim did in fact cut through rock faster than an overactive Ostrich could run, to the astonishment of an engrossed baying pack of hangover-sufferers.

Jim disappeared from sight within a blink of an eye, like he’d fallen through a trapdoor into a dark abyss. For the following hours, a small doomy contingent of doom-mongers sat around the hole, half-listening to the southbound pneumatic noise, whilst casually doom-mongering, forthwith accordingly.

Then all was quiet. Silent. Eerie. Hush.

Then there was much rejoicing.

“Big Grim Maid has strayed & stayed away! Hip-Hip-Hooray!”

All of the Gem Miners were happy!

Big Jim Wade was also happy, as (according to him), he discovered that although the ‘Earth Heart’ did not actually exist, he did discover that the Earth’s core was actually (according to him), a “cavernous super-sized steam room filled with floating jellyfish, that tickle a lot as they drift around ja!”.

Jim never resurfaced again, as he found his subterranean nirvana. The lasting legacy of his jackhammering skills still remain today, known as the Kimberley ‘Big Hole’, in honour of Big Jim Wade:

Kimberley 'Big Hole'

('Kimberley Tourism' image)

Walk Like An Egyptian

Instructions Verb [Latin: ‘Ambulate Sicut Aegyptus’]

Made famous by the American pop rock band ‘The Bangles’ in 1986, this classic dad-dancing wedding reception track opens the door for dramatically ridiculous limb-movements, in the name of creative art.

Just awkwardly shuffle back and forth across the dancefloor, like a two-dimensional hieroglyphic with mesmerisingly weird ‘Z’ shaped limb movements. The more perpendicular the adjoining joints are, the better!

Origins

Ancient Egyptian Pharoah Khukhu’s evil brother, Prince Toukertouk, was bored, bored, booooooooored.

Every day, he just seemed to slump into his jewelled jacuzzi, on the shaded regal roof terrace, and stare at the construction of his ruling brother’s epic creation, ‘The Great Pyramid of Geeza’.

Khukhu gets the glory, glum Toukertouk gets the story.

But he was still bored, so Toukertouk cracked open a large jar of Nile barley beer, and proceeded to swig the swally at a phenomenal pace.

One thing led to another, and another, until he found himself swaying at the top of the newly finished pyramid, staring at a deep scarlet sunset. Toukertouk felt so invincible, that he raised both arms aloft, and proceeded to topple backwards. The impact was far from ideal, but it was notably more ideal then the subsequent tumbling and rolling down hundreds of sharp-edged granite blocks, until he slapped onto the ground, like a limp kipper.

When he awoke, four hours later, Toukertouk looked down to discover that he had successfully broken most of his limb bones…which was far from ideal.

Through gritted teeth (and numbed beer-related pain-relief), Toukertouk managed to hobble back to his opulent royal resting quarters and collapse onto his woven camel-skinned bed.

When he awoke, three weeks later, Toukertouk looked down to discover that all four of his broken limbs had fused into ridiculous ‘Z’ shape bone formations… which was far from ideal.

Walking had to be re-designed, arms had to be re-trained, but Toukertouk eventually managed to shuffle out of his marbled floor, and out into the marketplace, filled with humanity.

He yearned for contact with humanity, but humanity couldn’t do anything else, apart from staring at evil Toukertouk, as he awkwardly shuffled towards them with mesmerizingly weird ‘z’ shaped limb movements…which was far from ideal.

Prince Toukertouk’s walk became ancient Egyptian folklore and scribed in multiple hieroglyphics. The rest…is history.

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!