When I was growing up, my family had a monthly tradition, irrespective of any plans, holidays or otherwise. You all attended the family dance. Dispel the thoughts of a debutant occasion with formal evening wear. This was a working-middle-class gathering of 50-somethings coming together to dance to the classics, drink excessively (but respectably) and catch up with family, friends and the community at large. My longest-enduring memory of the family dances was my grandfather sat in his dinner jacket, drinking a glass of scotch and smoking a King Edward cigar. Now, my grandfather had spent time in Canada, the US, Egypt, and Africa, serving with the RAF and Royal Navy….