I’ve been up to something on Sunday mornings. 

Besides, you know, bombarding you with words.  

It began two months ago.  

But its roots go back to Halloween. 

Specifically, Shyamaween. 

As a horror movie fan, I seized the opportunity to be under the same roof as M. Night Shyamalan. 

Wait. Sorry. I mean I seized the opportunity to be under the same roof as M. Night Shyamalan and not embarrass myself. 

Because I did that once already, about twenty years ago, at Gullifty’s on the Main Line.  

I tried to be cool when I saw him eating a few tables away from me. Really, I did. 

But let’s be honest. 

In my entire life, I have never been described as “cool.” 

Intense? Sure.  

Garrulous? Tightly wound?  

I mean, do you read this column? 

But no. Like that Indigo Girls line goes, I too never was cool. I should be buying people rings all over the place.  

And that is why I embarrassed myself in front of M. Night Shyamalan at Gullifty’s. 

Anyway, I went to Shyamaween last October. I wore gold paint and drank funky red drinks and chatted with a Margot Tenenbaum. 

But the highlight of the night was when M. Night Shyamalan’s wife, Bhavna, spoke about the M. Night Shyamalan Foundation. 

As I mentioned back in October, Bhavna is the cool that has long eluded me. 

During the research for my October Shyamaween piece, I discovered Bhavna owns Vibe Vault Fit, a wellness studio in Exton.  

I immediately texted my friend — the one who attended Shyamaween with me, also dressed like a Star Trek character because when you are chronically uncool you can do that. 

“Bhavna owns a wellness studio,” I typed. 

“We have to go!” she texted back. 

As I continued reading, I discovered the studio’s members are called The Vibe Tribe. 

We agreed we kind of needed to be in The Vibe Tribe. 

Also, yes. We refer to her as Bhavna. Even though we don’t actually know her. I’ve already embarrassed myself with her husband. I’m all in now. 

We wanted to take one class.  

One.  

I mean, it’s all the way in Exton. We live at the junction of Bucks and Montgomery Counties. Exton is like nine time zones and a Real ID away.  

So we booked a class for mid-December, watched a Rick Steves episode on Exton culture, and hit the road. 

We had selected a dance class. I chose the dance class because I’ve taken dance aerobics classes in the privacy of my home for fifteen years. 

And I think it’s kind of selfish of me to hide the mess that is my dance skills from the world. 

Like that night at Gullifty’s, I try. So hard.  

But I can’t spin around without getting dizzy, I go left when I should go right, and you know that hip shimmy dancers do? 

Yeah. I can’t do that. 

I can, however, shake my thing like I have an appendix about to burst. 

Did I really think dancing would be the one area of my life where I’d be as cool as The Fonz? 

I did. I so did. That I am perpetually Richie never made its way into the reality of my dance aerobics. 

On the morning of our dance class, I discovered the most wonderful thing. 

No. I did not discover I could dance.  

Although, wouldn’t it be great if I woke up that day, dancing like Fonzie in the Weezer video? 

But no. What I discovered was that Bhavna herself was coaching the class. 

And that it was awesome. 

Suddenly, Exton wasn’t so far.  

“I think,” my friend and I said to each other, “that this is our new Sunday morning thing.” 

So yes. We are now in The Vibe Tribe. 

Two months later my dance skills are just as embarrassing as that night at Gullifty’s.  

But now I care about my clumsiness far more than I ever did when I was dancing around my living room. 

When we’re done dancing and sweating, we visit The Juice Pod for smoothies. 

I love, by the way, this outstanding piece on The Juice Pod. The student who wrote it is Bhavna and Fonzie cool. 

I get the Reese’s smoothie, which is definitely healthy and not undoing my dance calories. Then it’s back home for, say, a Zoom class about a castle. Or an episode of Moonlighting. 

Or, as was the case this past weekend, a 24-hour livestream of my horror podcast. 

Ooh! Or my most recent discovery! An article on the history of the long gallery, a medieval European architectural detail that —  

Yeah.  

I may be in The Vibe Tribe. 

But I’m still not cool.