One of my most unrealised dreams is to be able to dance.
I love music, I DO have rhythm and I boast, let's be clear here, a very enviable torso, but no matter how hard I've tried, I've never been quite able to effortlessly blend these ingredients together.
Of course, like everyone, I've got drunk at weddings and discos - is there any difference? - and staggered onto the dance floor. And once, yes, I did dance WITH Riverdance but sadly to no avail.
I am, and always will be, the drunken enthusiast who, given a jug or two of prosecco, takes earnestly to the floor in the twisted knowledge that I am, indeed, Oxford's answer to Diversity (every single one of them).
Lately of course things have slightly changed.
I'm in a wheelchair and you might rightly have assumed that'd put an to my end to my crazy aspirations. But bizarrely it's only made me more determined.
Now clearly, I am not one of those people who believe that being in a wheelchair stops you from reaching for your dreams. Yet one has to be realistic, bear dignity in mind at all times and remember that wheelchair dancing is not for the faint-hearted (and I am of course referring to the audience here).
True, I was tempted a few months ago to hit the dance floor, wheelchair'n'all, but thankfully caught sight of myself in a mirror before committing.
So what I've tried to do recently is dance WITHOUT a wheelchair and against all odds, I think I may have pulled it off.
First however let us establish some ground rules; standing up unaided is not my forte while falling flat on my face most certainly is. It's trying to find the middle ground which has proved so challenging but thanks to my stiffness when leant up against a wall, I can now move my limbs in something that might equate to rhythm.
Obviously this doesn't involve much of any movement but what little there is can, for a fleeting second at least, appear coordinated. And that believe me is an achievement.
Whereas before I embodied "dad dancing" at its most graphic level, I now look like a cadaver only recently gone cold but whose twitches and jerks are reassuringly in time to the music making that old axiom of "less is more" ring true.
Whatever, this new year, if I can be found a wall to lean upon, and the lightings not too bright, you might well find yourself thinking: "Mmmm, that dude kinda looks like Usher (give or take a few major physical differences...).