Sunday, September 14, 2008

The Meat Lady...

The meat lady likes Blue Suede Souls - and I wouldn't cross her, she's got that crazy look in her eye!



It Ain't All Spice...


I've been sitting here in my half-dark office listening to the remnants of Ike roar through Indiana and considering our dance habits of late. It seems to me that a certain routine has settled in on us. We go to the Starlight Ballroom most weekends - at least once, depending on if one of our clubs is having a dance. During the week we have our dance lesson and - again, depending on the clubs we belong to - we go to the 8 Seconds Saloon for a quiet couple of hours spent honing what we've learned. On occasion we go to the Indiana Roof Ballroom and some weekends we go t the Riolo - but that's catch as catch can. That's our usual - our comfortable routine.

I started off thinking maybe the whole routine was preparation for the long, Midwestern winter ahead - kind of ant-like buckling down and getting things in order. Then again, I thought it could just be what happens in your second year of dancing - with experience comes and understanding of the things you do and don't like. In the end I wasn't able to come up with any definitive answers - all I can say is it's comfortable routine and I'm okay with that.

Somebody once said that variety is the spice of life implying we all should get out and have new experiences - and there's some truth in the assertion. The thing is you can't live on spice alone. Think of it in food terms - how about a big dish of tarragon? Maybe toss in a bit of black pepper and some cloves for texture? Doesn't that sound yummy? How about indigestible? Every spice in the world is meant to accomplish one thing - to be an accent.

I love checking out a new venue and trying a new step. One of the reasons I wanted to learn to dance was because I wanted to see the great dancehalls and ballrooms of years gone by. The thing is to dance and dance well - you have to embrace the routine as much as the 'spicy bits' or you'll wind up witnessing all those great dance floors as a wallflower.

Routine is practice. It's getting out there and doing the basic rumba step over and over until you can incorporate Cuban hips and make it smooth. I'm in to swing - and I mean really in to it. Every time we go anywhere we hit every swing tune we've got the stamina to dance and we throw all the moves we know at those dances. But it's the routine that makes it look good. I can't say how many 'ballroom swingers' I've run into on the dance floor - you know the type? They're stiff as a starched shirt and look like they're more worried about only touching their dates with two fingers and keeping a fake smirk plastered on their inexpressive faces than actually FEELING the music. The thing is, swing isn't routine for them so it looks stilted and frankly, pretty silly - it's all spice.

So that's what I'm thinking on this less than routine day and I figured I'd murder a few syllables to express it. Now, back to daydreaming…