The mambo is popular in my exercise class, but the dance I learned early and used all my life for every kind of music imaginable is the two step. Not the country-western two step they do in Texas dance halls. The two step that is two steps one way and one step back. It works for swing, rock, even techno dancing. You know that old saw about how the world would be a happy place if every child was given a ukulele at birth? Well, I add that every child should be taught to do the two step as soon as they are steady on their feet.
Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the dance.”
5 thoughts on “The Dance”
The Latin rhythms get my mojo going when it comes to the dance. Although, after my broken leg, I seem to have lost some of the fluidity in my dancing style. I’m hoping it’s not one of life’s cruel jokes…
I am blessed to get to teach dance for a living. Everday I go to work at a place full of music, energy, life. The physical exercise, the emotional release and the social enteraction with other dancers make for a joyful, rewarding experience that keeps people coming back for more.
“He whines and complains when I go anywhere. And when I’m gone, he calls me every ten minutes wanting me to come home and do something for him.” Meghan looked down at her Chamomile tea in the flowery china cup, and swirled it aimlessly with a spoon.
“And what do you do?” Brendon asked, taking a sip from his deceased Grandmother’s teacup.
“I go do whatever he wants. He apologizes later for asking me to come home. It’s the dance we do.”
“I thought as much.” He stood up from his small kitchen table and motioned to Meghan.
“Now stand up, girlfriend. Repeat after me. ‘Scot, I’m going to my sister’s and that’s that.”
Meghan remained seated. “Maybe I should just leave him.”
Brendon pulled his phone from his khakis pocket, poised to dial.
“When do you want Tommy and me to help you pack?”
She was a very young seventeen and had just graduated from high school. One of her friend’s parents were a lot of fun and asked her to come along to a neighborhood pub one night. Why not? She and her friend dressed for the occasion and were looking forward to an adult night out for the first time. After all, she’d never been to a pub before, and they were definitely not going to be drinking anything but soda. When they walked in they could see that there were a lot of the young neighborhood college boys at the bar. The jukebox was playing loud dance music. There was a lot of conviviality. She loved dancing – was crazy about music. One of the good-looking fellas came over and asked her to dance with him. Of course, she was impressed because he was older. They were chatting while dancing but she noticed that he kept pulling her lower body closer to his. She’d move back a bit. He’d pull her in again. This continued until she finally felt that his erection was now joining the dance. It was too much for her. She shoved him away in disgust and felt sick. Is this what it was going to be about then?
Each day is something new.
A new wrinkle, a new pain, a new remembering
of something that I used to do
that faded somehow from my life
without so much as a whisper of its leaving.
Each day I note the change–the wrinke, the pain
and each day I take one step back.two forward,
weaving the dance of what was with what is,
adding new steps toward what will be.