The Bop - Part I

The bop. It's funny, you hear a name like 'the Big Bopper' and you don't link it to an actual dance. The other night, while pouring through Flickr feeds for dance pictures I stumbled across the insert from a Ray Conniff album entitled Dance the Bop and there were the steps distilled down into words and pictures. Now, I have a theory that you have to know how to dance before you can learn verbally but that might just be me. None the less I thought I'd give the insert in the eight pages in which it was originally printed.

Page one is a typical cover sheet. I feel for the poor Siamese cat that got roped into being the 'cool cat' for the album art shoot. I have to wonder if the animal belonged to Conniff, Art Silva, or some plebe at the record label. Probably a fifty year old teen who, in the middle of a concept meeting, piped up with something like, "So there's this cat and we print 'the cool cat says…'but see, it's a real cat…" Shortly after that he found himself parking at the back of the lot and getting a lot of looks while he ate his lunch alone in the cafeteria.

Cool Cat informs us we should use the book as a study guide - damn and I'd planned on using it to sort seeds and stems. That's probably evidence that the authors of this guide were less hep than they'd like to have thought. Mastering every step before proceeding seems a bit unproductive. I mean, to be a master don't you have to absolutely and totally grasp a step to the point where you're a resource that others come to for instruction (i.e. a master)? Waiting until you've reached that Zen-like level of dance sensei-ness could result in never getting past page one of the instruction manual. I also question step three of the 'To Start' section - ever try to read a book while dancing? Not sure about you but I'd puke. I'm pretty sure a true master doesn't puke on the dance floor.

The author of this instructional guide, pictured staring dumbly into the middle distance, is Art Silva. Art seems like a real authority figure in spite of his apparent youth. He comes off like a James Dean-esque Marlin Perkins, expanding in definitive tones on the habitat and customs of teens of the era. He knows the kiddies well enough to tell you what they approve of wherever they congregate. The byline claims Art's a dancer, actor, and instructor. Dancer - I'll buy that, instructor - sure, but actor? IMDb would differ; it has zero references to Mr. Silva. Possibly an oversight, maybe he worked in films too small to be noticed - history has a way of erasing people from existence.

Ray Conniff, on the other hand, has withstood the test of time. I took a moment to listen to some of his music - good stuff, but so help me I can't imagine 'bopping' to anything the man performed. Saying Ray Conniff and Bop in the same breath is a bit like saying Lawrence Welk and Jitterbug together. There's a slight possibility the encantation will rip a hole in the fabric of reality and you'll be attacked by flying monekys. I mean, can you really think Rebel Without a Cause and hear the strains of Tico Tico playing in the background? Go on, try. I'll dial 911 for you.