I am dancing constantly because I have the world’s greatest boyfriend, one Mr. Peter Rogers, who is a whiz at everything from the Foxtrot on. I had brothers who taught me to dance when I was 14 and I have hardly sat one out since. But even fabulous men can’t seem to dance anymore, so I know how lucky I am to have my Peter.

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I danced with my husband a year ago at a party. He is marvelous dancer. Me? Not so much. But I’m sure we will dance again the next time the music is right. Our kind of music does not happen at most parties, anymore.

If you count hopping around to keep your toes from being numb, then I danced with 1.8 million people that very morning, on the Mall.

The last time I danced was a few weeks ago with my handsome hub who is not a great dancer, but neither am I. What I love is the intimacy of it and the romance and the definite gender difference. And I like that he leads. What I love about the First Couple is that their attraction and their commitment to each other is so electric. They are totally focused on the other. Oblivious to hundreds of cameras and there is no self-consciousness or hint of performance. I also love that she makes a gesture to the crowd about his white side surfacing when he dances. Well, I am putting "the White Side" in but it is the singular white thing about him. The guy — whom we all love — has no rhythm.

I danced last week with my ten-year-old in the kitchen after his first dancing school class. He was demonstrating the intricacies of the salsa — or was it the rumba? I couldn’t keep up.

I’m married to a very smooth dancer. Good thing because I need a leader in this position. One of my favorite pictures of him is at tap dancing school when he was 13. Last time we danced was August at a party. It was so nice.

I dance with anyone who’ll dance. With strangers in Union Square on Election Night. With friends on Inauguration night, in a great apartment on Central Park West. As the Obamas danced on TV, the guests danced in two big rooms. I danced with the host, and finally took up a position on a pair of steps so that my friend Daphna and I could do a kind of synchronized go-go routine that was pure joy. There’s nothing like people dancing in time to the same tune to make everyone happy, dancers and watchers. It’s the arms going right, left, right, left, right, left, while hips go left, right, left, right, left, right, that sets up an irresistible beat that’s maybe the diastole and systole of the heart, maybe simply good bipartisan politics.

The last time I really, really danced was alone in my kitchen very late at night after a few glasses of wine. It was years ago, to a song by Del Amitri called "Roll to Me," which is impossible not to move around to. I remember it so clearly because it put me in such a good mood. When I married my husband five and a half years ago, we did the first dance thing to "The Way You Look Tonight," but since all eyes were upon us, I was totally self-conscious — as I almost always am when doing anything that requires a modicum of coordination and grace.

When my mother, a truly great dancer, was growing up in Nashville, TN, she went to the Fortnightly Dance Cotillion, where she learned all the dance steps and had multiple partners who filled out her dance cards. I looked at them so often in her scrapbook when I was little that I can still remember the boys’ names. I figured the same thing would happen to me, but by the time I was in the seventh grade, dancing involved throwing your arms around a boy’s neck and vaguely swaying to bad pop music. I decided early on that I was not remotely interested in that kind of dancing or in 13-year-old boys, and moved (perhaps a tad too quickly) on to more, um, sophisticated pursuits.

The end result is that I am doomed to dance by myself in my kitchen, as my husband was too busy being the lead singer in a rock-and-roll band to learn to dance well himself. If you are like me and dance best alone, I highly recommend "Roll to Me" — it’s a good workout. Somebody gave me one of those New Agey, life advice refrigerator magnets once that included the line, "Dance as though no one were watching." I get that, but I will stick to doing it when no one actually is watching, except maybe Henry the beagle, who I doubt will be interested enough to open both eyes.