Identity Crisis

Dancing is an interesting sport. And yes, it's a sport. It's art too, but it IS a sport. I think the reason I said that three times is because when I started dancing I didn't think so. To be honest, I thought dancing was a bit affected. It wasn't a REAL sport, not like things I did, like running track or lifting weights. Those are REAL sports. But, as you know, I now love dancing and understand, all too clearly, how active it is. Like today. I'm nursing a pulled leg muscle. It hurts just as much as when I did it running.

And that leads me to the first unusual thing about dancing. It is a paired sport. A partner sport. So what does that mean? Many things. As a partner sport, both people have to be "on" for you to have an "on" night. Both people have to be OK with correcting or suggesting. Both people have to like a dance to want to do it. Some dancers might argue with that last one, but for Gary and me, we neither want to do a dance the other does not like. And for the most part, we agree on what we want to dance, even though I like the Latin dances more than he does, and he likes the foxtrot more than I do.

The second unusual thing about dancing as a sport is to specialize or not to specialize. As I have said before, Gary and I are not by the book ballroom dancers. We don't follow a prescribed criteria. The good part of that is, well, we can basically do anything we want. The bad part is the possibilities are endless. How many dances do we want to learn? How many can we learn and be good? Or, should we have a specialty and then the others are mediocre? Do venues drive what we learn, or should we learn the dances we love and search out proper places to go dance them in? This is different from most sports. Usually someone picks just one. In dancing, each dance is a separate entity, and while there are cross over skills, a salsa is not in any way a waltz. And venues are usually not a reason for selecting a sport. You can run anywhere, after all.

Gary and I talked this over at the beginning of the year. What we've decided...for now...is to stay in the question. We are, after all, still beginners and just two years into our dancing. We know a few ballroom dances, enough to get by at fancy places. We know a couple of Latin dances, again, enough to go to a salsa club and not feel like dweebs. The clubs we attend are pretty much covered with all the swing dances we know plus the smattering of other dances . And of course, we rock at swing dance venues.

So if swing is something we both very much love, would we want to do just that? No. If only for an entry way to other dances someday we do not want to shut everything else out. Bottom line there are just too many neat dances to choose a few.

And so for 2009, we will keep our dancing identity open. Happy New Year!

Party Like it's 1952...

I know I’m about ten days late to say anything about New Years but in my usual shambling through the web for interesting stuff I came across the following picture and I felt compelled to post it to Blue Suede Souls.

Where are these parties held? I mean, okay – in the case of this specific photo I know that the party in question was held in the 50’s in New York City but I’m talking theoretical. What clique do you have to belong to before you get invited to the bunny-hat-stab-your-buddy-with-plastic-swords party? I mean look at these people! They’re not particularly handsome – in fact they’re a little pudgy and they’ve got the look of dock workers – but imagine the party!

I keep thinking there must be a heck of a swinging band in this club/bar/joint/wherever – maybe there’s a hot samba playing in the background. The dance floor’s crowded with smartly dressed ladies and guys in…bunny hats. There’s lots of laughing, the energy level’s high, and everybody’s just waiting to count down to yelling ‘Happy New Year’ before stumbling out to their gas guzzling American cars and smashing every light post and trash can on their way home.
Maybe this photo’s proof that the past is irretrievably lost. Maybe the reason that you can’t find a party like this any more is in the question – irrational exuberance plus copious amounts of booze just belong in the Hemmingway era. I don’t know – but sometimes when I see these old photos I’d like to rent a time machine, pop back, and wear a bunny too.

Or maybe I just need to join the right cult.