It's sort of ironic, coming from the rural midwest, that it's only in San Francisco that square dancing has become part of my life. Every year there's a wildly popular dance at the Swedish American Hall in the Castro that we always attend. It's full of midwest-transplant gays, geeks, and hipsters reveling in post-ironic pleasure. It's part of the wintertime bluegrass and old-time festival that balances the summertime Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. This year the band came from North Carolina and the caller did a great job of teaching a bunch of clueless Californians fast and getting us to do some sort of complicated seeming dances.