Tonight I was tired. Tired but—perhaps solely through repeated mental flagellations—ready to be brave.
Tonight at the weekly swing dance, I was going to ask Miss Q to dance. Extremely talented, very attractive, and admirably most humble, too. Miss Q, that is. Darned ambiguous references, but indeed I digress.
Grammatical nits aside… for reasons I cannot quite narrow down for certain, it appears as though my bravery was either contagious or most coincidentally most ill-timed or a combination thereof. You see, that *other* fellow was determined to dance with Miss Q. And the young man beside him. And yes, that other chap dashing up beside the both of them.
Miss Q had a queue and a rather constant queue at that. Oh, not the visible English-style straight version, but rather a discernible one nonetheless. Ranging from skulking to brazen, star-struck and/or love-struck leads grabbed their opportunity, sometimes with frightening literalness, and Miss Q handled it all with the utmost in grace and good nature. Was she delighted or annoyed or simply exhausted by all the attention? I cannot say. I was quietly and perhaps just a bit more than mildly seething at my ill fortune, and so in this circumstance I cannot fully trust my normally perceptive nature.
But I know this: of the collective of Miss Qs here and elsewhere on the dancefloor—particularly in this arenas where the Misses outnumber the Misters—there by my estimation must be an aggregate tiredness and frustration on the shoulders of both sexes. The Misses have nary a rest, much less a chance to do much choosing of their choosing. They pair with those who are the quickest, the most cunning, the most persistent, the most unsubtlely lurking in the not-so-background, which may or—more likely—may not dovetail with those who are the most talented or otherwise desirable partners.
And, as you surely may have guessed, the disappointment lies not just within the fairer sex here, but rests upon the equally unlucky section of lads. For we have two choices: one-up the others in desperate aggressiveness or sit on the side passively ruing our lot and the escalation of hounding-stealing-hoarding that has led to this sorry condition. Those compelled into the former may succeed on occasion but feel ashamed on the whole of what they’ve been driven to. And those self-relegated into the latter behavior must simply feel, well, stamped writ-large with a neon ‘L’ upon their forehead.
* * *
What does this suggest, other than that I have a dramatic flair for cartooningly exaggerating a seemingly run-of-the-mill situation rather than answering e-mail or getting much needed sleep?
Ah, dear reader, it suggests more than this! Much more! For dance is but a metaphor for life! Or, at minimum, the situation I’ve described above reminds me of social interactions in a much broader sense than just the lead-follow rituals associated with selecting dance partners.
Bars. Clubs. Particularly given the most-typical uneven ratios of men (many) to women (few), what we end up with is an ever-escalating atmosphere of urgency, high volume, and desperation, which leads to the all-too-cliched-but-true situation of women massively annoyed by obnoxiously brazen and bad pickup lines and (worse) physical aggression. And on the other side, an unfortunate mix of mostly puzzled, frustrated, and perhaps even angry men who refuse to raise their bets and behavior (and thus fold) The women go home and complain to their girlfriends about being besieged by “jerks” all night, and guys complain to their mates about the unfortunate and equally-unfortunately-named “sausage fest” and the lack of opportunities reasonably available.
* * *
To clarify, my swing dance experiences are typically many many MANY times better than the hyper-clarified and starkly drawn portrait I’ve painted here. And for tonight, it was more my own stubbornness (I was set on dancing with one particular woman) that resulted in the sullying of what should have by all other measures been an outstanding night (presence of friends, a strong live band, etc.) But it made for a good excuse for a blog post and I found myself sincerely drawn (once again) to the parallels between social dancing and the broader arena of meeting and flirting and dating. Specifically, what I felt I was observing was a miniature version of the tragedy of the social commons which, upon further reflection, might better (albeit less pithily) be described as “The Tragic Inevitability of Behavioral Escalation in the Context of Mixed-Gender Social Environments.” But the latter—while a title I might be able to sell or rent to thesis'ing Psychology PhD students -- is way too long for a catchy blog title. Almost as piss-poor a title as some musical one might otherwise wisely stumble upon.
Anyway, with all MY pontificating out of the way, what do you think? Do queues of the sort I described lead to women becoming frustrated and less apt to genially interact with guys? Or is this one-upmanship of sorts an expected but altogether benign reflection and self-selection of the assertive vs. the doormats, the latter of whom need to learn to buck up anyway? :-D I look forward to hearing your thoughts, even if those thoughts are, "For the love of Dog, Adam, why do you overanalyze stuff to such a degree, and at 1am no less?!"
Showing newest posts with label dancing. Show older posts
Showing newest posts with label dancing. Show older posts
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
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Saturday, June 21, 2008
Where the hell is Matt? -- Huge smiles guaranteed!
Today’s entry is short and wonderful. Behold, in the video below, Matt Harding… “dancing” around the world, one city at a time. At the 54 second mark, watch the video really come alive when he delights countless locales who join in the dancing… and, i guarantee, charms all of you watching, too :-D.
For more information, see www.wherethehellismatt.com.
Also, you really really must see his other videos (linked under his name).
Edited on June 23 to add: Thank you to Bee for pointing out my URL typo! Now fixed :-D
For more information, see www.wherethehellismatt.com.
Also, you really really must see his other videos (linked under his name).
Edited on June 23 to add: Thank you to Bee for pointing out my URL typo! Now fixed :-D
Monday, August 28, 2006
Once again, attending a camp for swingers
Tomorrow night I’m heading off on a plane to once again attend a camp for swingers. As you can imagine, posting on my blog and sorting through my t-shirt drawers will be far from my mind. ;-)
Take THAT, Lisa Barrone :-P
Anyway… if you’re interested in all the details (including lots of photos!), visit Swing Out New Hampshire’s Web site.
See y’all in a week or two :-D
[Added to reduce chances of some folks having a heart attack: It’s a swing DANCE camp, people. Lindy Hop. Jazz music. Sheesh… such dirty minds ;-)]
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Search Engine Strategies San Jose 2006 plus more details of my past and upcoming weeks
It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, and—as always—I have so much to say. I’ll use my recent and upcoming schedule as a crutch for providing some musings and commentary :-D
Last week:
- Monday: Special Google Event and Hakone Gardens private party.
Early in the day I got to test my Event Planning mettle. It all came out okay! No one was electrocuted. No one went hungry. No one fell or was thrown off of large balconies. Reviews were good, and I wasn’t fired. In the evening, I joined a friendly group of geeks at a private party at the beautiful Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, California. Free sushi! Company presentations in the blissfully short form of one haiku each! Plus prizes, a Futurist presentation, and much more.
- Tuesday: The Fifth Annual Google Dance and included “Meet the Engineers” event
I was responsible for planning this year’s Meet the Engineers event upstairs during the Google Dance, enabling lots of Webmaster’y-type folks and Googlers to chat informally about largely search-focused ideas, questions, and more. Overall, it seemed to go pretty well, though I certainly got some good feedback to improve the event for next year :-) (feel free to add more feedback in the comments below if you’d like!) And in the general party there were battling robots, lots of cheese, wacky green-screen dancing karaoke, demo’ing and dunking Googlers, and lots and lots (thousands!) of geeks in various stages of buzzed revelry :-D
- Wednesday: Search Engine Strategies Conference (continued from Tuesday) and yet more geek parties
The Search Engine Strategies conference in San Jose, California is one of the largest events of its kind… four solid days of learning ‘n’ camraderie in the Web Marketing / Search Engine Optimization space, with four evenings of networking, drinking, and playful debauchery. My colleagues sumo wrestling! Geeks Gone Wild on the dance floor! And, on a serious but equally important note, it was a great chance for me to meet some fascinating heavyweights in the industry and for me to do my best representing Google… answering questions, gathering thoughtful bits of feedback, and happily putting names with faces (“Ah, you’re THAT blogger…”).
- Thursday: My first speaking engagement on behalf of Google!
My boss, Matt Cutts, is one of the most articulate and likeable fellows in the search engine realm. When he speaks, people listen! When I speak… well, I really hadn’t ever publicly spoken on behalf of Google before, so as you can imagine, I was a bit apprehensive and also quite excited. Making matters even more interesting was the fact that all of my fellow panelists (from Yahoo, MSN, and Ask) came prepared with Powerpoint presentations and I came prepared with… nothing. Well, that’s not exactly true. I had spent quite a bit of time thinking about the subject at hand (how Google looks at links on the Web) and was pretty confident about my ability to answer questions… but I certainly hadn’t thought of making an opening statement. It was a “Q&A” session, after all!
Well, luckily, during the few minutes of the others’ presentations, I managed to quickly shuffle a reasonably organized selection of thoughts into my head and then out of my mouth in a basically impromptu four minute speech. I even squeezed in a bit of geek humor, specifically a reference to Douglas Adams’ “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” book… which was, to my pleasure and relief, pretty well-received (yay, fellow geeks with good taste in literature!). I was asked some great questions and had answers for all but one of them, for which I admitted “I don’t know.”
Overall, it was an enjoyable and worthwhile experience, and I look forward to speaking at another industry event.
* * *
I spent more of Friday and Saturday doing just laid back things… catching up with some friends, and catching up on sleep. And for this week…
- Sunday: 10 year anniversary of Lindy in the Park!
If you live in the Bay Area and you haven’t yet been to this event, you’re missing out. And—since it happens every week (well, in general; not the 10 year anniversary, obviously)— it’s not too late for you to get your hiney over there and have some good, energetic, sunshiney, family-friendly, no-date-needed fun! From around 11am to 2pm each week, the DJs spin a variety of swing and definitely-not-swing-but-still-danceable music for folks to swing dance to, and there’s a free 30 minute lesson at noon! Today there were over 250 people dancing away, smiling, meeting up with old friends and making new ones. I guiltily don’t make it to LitP as often as I’d like, but I always have fun when I do, so I highly recommend y’all stopping by if you’re able to—whether you’re a dancer (yet) or not! :-D
- Monday: Brave Combo and The Mad Maggies, performing at The Elbo Room in San Francisco
I’m not yet familiar with The Mad Maggies, but I *LOVE* Brave Combo! They’ve been around forever and recorded quite a diverse bunch of music, but what it all has in common is this: a sense of playfulness, strong musicianship, and a giddy enthusiasm and often silliness that is immensely likeable. Polkas and more polkas, funky twists on classical pieces, bright horns and earthy voices. I can’t wait to see these guys live! (and I’m curious to check out The Elbo Room. too, which is just a couple of miles from my apartment).
- Tuesday: A chamber music performance at Google
We have a very nice grand piano at the Googleplex, and so I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that there are relatively informal concerts (featuring my fellow Googlers!) on a semi-regular basis here. I’m looking forward to unwinding to some good live classical music at the end of the work day… without having to worry about parking, ticket fees, or dressing up :-D.
- Wednesday: A dance performance—Riptide—featuring my friend Tiffany B (warning: crappy Website. You may want to navigate from here.)
I’ve known and done swing dancing with Tiffany for years, but I’ve embarrassingly not made it to one of her many fine professional performances yet. This coming Wednesday marks the first time I’ll see her on stage… finally! And—fellow Bay Area people—there are still tickets left! Go, go, go!
- Thursday: Either collapsing early to bed or attending the amazing 9:20 Special weekly swing dance
In particular, though, I can’t wait to go to this the *next* Thursday, when there’ll be music performed by the lively and talented Lavay Smith and her full band!
- Friday: The 5th anniversary of Friday Night Waltz
Though I’ll always be a swing dancer deep down, there’s something quite magical and exhilirating about spinning around the floor with various waltzes and partners. The Friday Night Waltz event (held primarily in Palo Alto and Alameda… most recently, with trial (formal!) evenings in San Francisco) is a wonderful mix of accessible lessons with great teachers, a very friendly crowd, and free refreshing refreshments (fresh fruit, candies, etc.) Interestingly enough, only about 60-70% of the songs are waltzes; the rest are an ecclectic mix of swing tunes, polkas, Latin numbers, and other danceable songs. Like with the other dance events I’ve mentioned above, there’s no partner required (everyone dances with everyone else, and folks rotate regularly in class).
* * *
Whew! Now you can understand why I haven’t had much time to be blogging. It’s all I can do to be getting enough sleep and occasionally calling my family and friends to let ‘em know I’m alive :-D
Still, yes, I know I have a few thousand long-overdue Australia and Singapore photos to post, more (and more interesting :-P) stories to tell, and so on. I’ll see what I can do to squeeze that stuff in soon!
Last week:
- Monday: Special Google Event and Hakone Gardens private party.
Early in the day I got to test my Event Planning mettle. It all came out okay! No one was electrocuted. No one went hungry. No one fell or was thrown off of large balconies. Reviews were good, and I wasn’t fired. In the evening, I joined a friendly group of geeks at a private party at the beautiful Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, California. Free sushi! Company presentations in the blissfully short form of one haiku each! Plus prizes, a Futurist presentation, and much more.
- Tuesday: The Fifth Annual Google Dance and included “Meet the Engineers” event
I was responsible for planning this year’s Meet the Engineers event upstairs during the Google Dance, enabling lots of Webmaster’y-type folks and Googlers to chat informally about largely search-focused ideas, questions, and more. Overall, it seemed to go pretty well, though I certainly got some good feedback to improve the event for next year :-) (feel free to add more feedback in the comments below if you’d like!) And in the general party there were battling robots, lots of cheese, wacky green-screen dancing karaoke, demo’ing and dunking Googlers, and lots and lots (thousands!) of geeks in various stages of buzzed revelry :-D
- Wednesday: Search Engine Strategies Conference (continued from Tuesday) and yet more geek parties
The Search Engine Strategies conference in San Jose, California is one of the largest events of its kind… four solid days of learning ‘n’ camraderie in the Web Marketing / Search Engine Optimization space, with four evenings of networking, drinking, and playful debauchery. My colleagues sumo wrestling! Geeks Gone Wild on the dance floor! And, on a serious but equally important note, it was a great chance for me to meet some fascinating heavyweights in the industry and for me to do my best representing Google… answering questions, gathering thoughtful bits of feedback, and happily putting names with faces (“Ah, you’re THAT blogger…”).
- Thursday: My first speaking engagement on behalf of Google!
My boss, Matt Cutts, is one of the most articulate and likeable fellows in the search engine realm. When he speaks, people listen! When I speak… well, I really hadn’t ever publicly spoken on behalf of Google before, so as you can imagine, I was a bit apprehensive and also quite excited. Making matters even more interesting was the fact that all of my fellow panelists (from Yahoo, MSN, and Ask) came prepared with Powerpoint presentations and I came prepared with… nothing. Well, that’s not exactly true. I had spent quite a bit of time thinking about the subject at hand (how Google looks at links on the Web) and was pretty confident about my ability to answer questions… but I certainly hadn’t thought of making an opening statement. It was a “Q&A” session, after all!
Well, luckily, during the few minutes of the others’ presentations, I managed to quickly shuffle a reasonably organized selection of thoughts into my head and then out of my mouth in a basically impromptu four minute speech. I even squeezed in a bit of geek humor, specifically a reference to Douglas Adams’ “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” book… which was, to my pleasure and relief, pretty well-received (yay, fellow geeks with good taste in literature!). I was asked some great questions and had answers for all but one of them, for which I admitted “I don’t know.”
Overall, it was an enjoyable and worthwhile experience, and I look forward to speaking at another industry event.
* * *
I spent more of Friday and Saturday doing just laid back things… catching up with some friends, and catching up on sleep. And for this week…
- Sunday: 10 year anniversary of Lindy in the Park!
If you live in the Bay Area and you haven’t yet been to this event, you’re missing out. And—since it happens every week (well, in general; not the 10 year anniversary, obviously)— it’s not too late for you to get your hiney over there and have some good, energetic, sunshiney, family-friendly, no-date-needed fun! From around 11am to 2pm each week, the DJs spin a variety of swing and definitely-not-swing-but-still-danceable music for folks to swing dance to, and there’s a free 30 minute lesson at noon! Today there were over 250 people dancing away, smiling, meeting up with old friends and making new ones. I guiltily don’t make it to LitP as often as I’d like, but I always have fun when I do, so I highly recommend y’all stopping by if you’re able to—whether you’re a dancer (yet) or not! :-D
- Monday: Brave Combo and The Mad Maggies, performing at The Elbo Room in San Francisco
I’m not yet familiar with The Mad Maggies, but I *LOVE* Brave Combo! They’ve been around forever and recorded quite a diverse bunch of music, but what it all has in common is this: a sense of playfulness, strong musicianship, and a giddy enthusiasm and often silliness that is immensely likeable. Polkas and more polkas, funky twists on classical pieces, bright horns and earthy voices. I can’t wait to see these guys live! (and I’m curious to check out The Elbo Room. too, which is just a couple of miles from my apartment).
- Tuesday: A chamber music performance at Google
We have a very nice grand piano at the Googleplex, and so I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that there are relatively informal concerts (featuring my fellow Googlers!) on a semi-regular basis here. I’m looking forward to unwinding to some good live classical music at the end of the work day… without having to worry about parking, ticket fees, or dressing up :-D.
- Wednesday: A dance performance—Riptide—featuring my friend Tiffany B (warning: crappy Website. You may want to navigate from here.)
I’ve known and done swing dancing with Tiffany for years, but I’ve embarrassingly not made it to one of her many fine professional performances yet. This coming Wednesday marks the first time I’ll see her on stage… finally! And—fellow Bay Area people—there are still tickets left! Go, go, go!
- Thursday: Either collapsing early to bed or attending the amazing 9:20 Special weekly swing dance
In particular, though, I can’t wait to go to this the *next* Thursday, when there’ll be music performed by the lively and talented Lavay Smith and her full band!
- Friday: The 5th anniversary of Friday Night Waltz
Though I’ll always be a swing dancer deep down, there’s something quite magical and exhilirating about spinning around the floor with various waltzes and partners. The Friday Night Waltz event (held primarily in Palo Alto and Alameda… most recently, with trial (formal!) evenings in San Francisco) is a wonderful mix of accessible lessons with great teachers, a very friendly crowd, and free refreshing refreshments (fresh fruit, candies, etc.) Interestingly enough, only about 60-70% of the songs are waltzes; the rest are an ecclectic mix of swing tunes, polkas, Latin numbers, and other danceable songs. Like with the other dance events I’ve mentioned above, there’s no partner required (everyone dances with everyone else, and folks rotate regularly in class).
* * *
Whew! Now you can understand why I haven’t had much time to be blogging. It’s all I can do to be getting enough sleep and occasionally calling my family and friends to let ‘em know I’m alive :-D
Still, yes, I know I have a few thousand long-overdue Australia and Singapore photos to post, more (and more interesting :-P) stories to tell, and so on. I’ll see what I can do to squeeze that stuff in soon!
Saturday, July 1, 2006
Very fun lindy hop (swing dancing) clips from Australia
We all know that water drains in the opposite direction down under in Australia, but their lindy hop (swing dancing) is anything but backwards.
Check out the clip below—including teens and senior citizens—for some crazy fast footwork and awesome on-the-fly (no pun intended) fun moves.
Incidentally, Google Video now lets you rate, tag, and comment on videos. Nice!
And hey, interested in seeing some other fun clips and learning a bit more about this lindy hop thing?
Some great info resources
- The wikipedia entry on lindy hop.
- The world’s biggest swing dance forum, Yehoodi.
- More Lindy Hop videos on Google Video and You Tube.
- My humble Lindy Hop Whiteboard Supreme (wiki).
And some other fun video clips I just uploaded
Remember, none of this is rehearsed or pre-choreographed… it’s all spontaneously danced with input from the music and each others’ partner!
1) Playful style!
2) Ooooo bluesy!
3) More bluesy fun
4) Another entertaining group
5) Noni and partner have fun showing off :D
What did you think of these clips? :-D
Check out the clip below—including teens and senior citizens—for some crazy fast footwork and awesome on-the-fly (no pun intended) fun moves.
Incidentally, Google Video now lets you rate, tag, and comment on videos. Nice!
And hey, interested in seeing some other fun clips and learning a bit more about this lindy hop thing?
Some great info resources
- The wikipedia entry on lindy hop.
- The world’s biggest swing dance forum, Yehoodi.
- More Lindy Hop videos on Google Video and You Tube.
- My humble Lindy Hop Whiteboard Supreme (wiki).
And some other fun video clips I just uploaded
Remember, none of this is rehearsed or pre-choreographed… it’s all spontaneously danced with input from the music and each others’ partner!
1) Playful style!
2) Ooooo bluesy!
3) More bluesy fun
4) Another entertaining group
5) Noni and partner have fun showing off :D
About these clips
They were filmed with my old Canon SD550, with me (sadly) sitting in the back row of a big theatre. That explains some of the shakiness and graininess… but still, not bad for a little pocket camera AND a guy who just flew across the world a few hours prior to the show ;-)As always, your comments are welcome!
Do you have any questions about lindy hop?What did you think of these clips? :-D
Monday, January 30, 2006
Wheeeee! (a spontaneous dance lift)
Anne-Marie lifts unidentified but happy dancer at the 2003 San Francisco Lindy Hop Exchange.Sunday, January 15, 2006
Hydraulic shoes for dancers and other women
Leave it up to my fellow dancer friends to think up something that’s equally entertaining and potentially useful.
To my non-Lindy-Hop reader friends… one thing you should know: In general, it’s a major faux pas to wear high heels when swing dancing. The follow’s balance tends to be off, the guys are afraid of getting stabbed when doing charlestons, and so on. In fact, a running joke is that you can identify (and avoid) the total newbies by seeing which women are wearing high heels. Same thing for blues dancing and blues dancers.
But this creates a bit of a conflict. Often times blues dancers are avid tango’ers… and occasionally, there are hybrid events which combine the worlds of blues and tango dancing. In tango, it’s apparently quite customary, even desireable for the follows to be decked out in high heels.
So what to do, other than trudging a very large purse or backpack along with you for a second pair of shoes, not to mention having to miss out on a song just to change shoes?
Well, this is where one of my fellow dancers’ brilliance comes into play. Embarrassingly, I can’t remember the specific person to suggest this over 2am Thai food post-dancing (it all tends to become a blur, you know), but I have to give props to the fella who came up with the idea of hydraulic shoes.
A woman is blues dancing… in nice, comfortable flats. Then she pushes a button (perhaps even via a discreet remote-control switch on her belt or whatnot), and ffffffvoom! Her shoes immediately transform into high-heels for an impromptu bit of tango’ing.
Hmm… uh oh… Creepy Guy(tm) is approaching her after the song ends and she has to make a quick getaway. pfffffffsssss! Instant flats again… enabling her to deftly escape her social-graces-challenged pursuer!
* * *
Of course, given the high percentage of my fellow dancers who are geeks (and thus unsurprisingly the analytical sort), we then debated how this might work practically. Specifically… where and how would the heels retract? Hmm.
To my non-Lindy-Hop reader friends… one thing you should know: In general, it’s a major faux pas to wear high heels when swing dancing. The follow’s balance tends to be off, the guys are afraid of getting stabbed when doing charlestons, and so on. In fact, a running joke is that you can identify (and avoid) the total newbies by seeing which women are wearing high heels. Same thing for blues dancing and blues dancers.
But this creates a bit of a conflict. Often times blues dancers are avid tango’ers… and occasionally, there are hybrid events which combine the worlds of blues and tango dancing. In tango, it’s apparently quite customary, even desireable for the follows to be decked out in high heels.
So what to do, other than trudging a very large purse or backpack along with you for a second pair of shoes, not to mention having to miss out on a song just to change shoes?
Well, this is where one of my fellow dancers’ brilliance comes into play. Embarrassingly, I can’t remember the specific person to suggest this over 2am Thai food post-dancing (it all tends to become a blur, you know), but I have to give props to the fella who came up with the idea of hydraulic shoes.
A woman is blues dancing… in nice, comfortable flats. Then she pushes a button (perhaps even via a discreet remote-control switch on her belt or whatnot), and ffffffvoom! Her shoes immediately transform into high-heels for an impromptu bit of tango’ing.
Hmm… uh oh… Creepy Guy(tm) is approaching her after the song ends and she has to make a quick getaway. pfffffffsssss! Instant flats again… enabling her to deftly escape her social-graces-challenged pursuer!
* * *
Of course, given the high percentage of my fellow dancers who are geeks (and thus unsurprisingly the analytical sort), we then debated how this might work practically. Specifically… where and how would the heels retract? Hmm.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Despite some challenges and regrets, dancing at Jammix is still a blast
Every month or so during the school year, the Stanford University Dance Department puts on an event called Jammix. It includes a huge variety of music and dance styles... from schmaltzy tangos to goofy covers of American pop tunes to "Play that Funky Music, White Boy!" to Metallica waltzes (!) and beyond. And all for $2, too!
The talent is equally varied. Given that this was the first Jammix of the season, there were even more newbies than usual, but also quite a few impressively experienced folks (including dance teachers!) in attendance.
The common denominators amongst it all are Fun and Friendliness. Oh, and always at least a couple memorable moments for me :-).
The D'oh Moment
A salsa song came on, and -- despite being a total salsa neophyte (I remember about 3 moves) -- I decided to ask the woman standing next to me to dance since she looked particularly warm and approachable.
"Hi, I'm Adam" I offered.
She looked at me with a mix of surprise and genuine amusement. "I'm..."
"Anne!" I interjected. Yeah, as in Anne the (at least locally) famous and much beloved salsa teacher that I've been acquainted with socially for over a year. She had dyed her hair, and apparently by this Friday evening my brain fuel was running low.
Thank goodness she IS a kind and patient soul, or I would have been even more mortified than I was... asking such a fab salsera to dance salsa AND not recognizing her. And why oh why couldn't I have asked her to Lindy Hop instead?! :O But luckily I ended up feeling pretty comfortable sticking to the basics during the dance, chatting throughout and catching up with her since we hadn't seen each other in a few months.
* * *
Of courage and compliments
Despite assurances from nice friends that my waltzing is actually decent, I still am a bit self-conscious about it. So you can imagine how proud I am that I got up the guts to ask one of the most talented women of the evening to dance a cross-step waltz with me. Even better yet, halfway through she complimented me on my dancing and asked if I'd consider being a part of the Annual Stanford Viennese Ball Opening performance group that she's leading.
Alas, it requires rehearsals twice a week for several months, and given my uncertain schedule for the next while, I sadly can't afford to make that commitment. But I was quite honored nonetheless, since she obviously liked my waltzing :-).
* * *
Each time I attend Jammix, I always have so many mixed emotions. On one hand, I feel regret (for not learning to dance earlier in my life), I feel a little embarrassment (for being an old fart amongst so many 18 and 19 year olds!*), and -- when dancing with beginner after beginner -- I sometimes feel frustration or even exhaustion (e.g., waltzing with someone who has no frame or polka'ing with dead weight). But on the other hand, the welcoming atmosphere of openness, of joy, even giddy enthusiasm tends to outweigh the downsides for me. And -- unlike sometimes when I'm out Lindy Hopping -- I rarely worry whether I'm good enough or popular enough to be asking someone because at Jammix everyone's just happy to be dancing (it helps, too, that there are often more women than men in attendance... w00t!!!)
Also, seeing so many young people on campus doing something than drinking themselves into a stupor or grabbing each others' asses at crass frat parties is also delightfully refreshing. And no, these aren't predominantly freaks-'n'-losers, either. It's clear that -- along with indeed a bunch o' geeks (not that there's anything wrong with that) -- Stanford dances attract many jocks, cheerleaders, pretty boys, hottie chicks, fashionable peeps, and so on. Indeed, this sort of scene does give me hope for future generations of college students :-). I've even heard that many students camp out just to get into the uber-popular dance classes at Stanford.
What a wonderful world, at least this piece of it! And how lucky I am to be a part of it :-)
* * *
Related links:
- "Skipping the frat scene: Jammix social dance party" [Stanford Daily newspaper]
* * *
* Regarding the age-thing, my friend Graham said to me at an earlier Jammix: "You may be old, but you're not creepy old." Whew :D
The talent is equally varied. Given that this was the first Jammix of the season, there were even more newbies than usual, but also quite a few impressively experienced folks (including dance teachers!) in attendance.
The common denominators amongst it all are Fun and Friendliness. Oh, and always at least a couple memorable moments for me :-).
The D'oh Moment
A salsa song came on, and -- despite being a total salsa neophyte (I remember about 3 moves) -- I decided to ask the woman standing next to me to dance since she looked particularly warm and approachable.
"Hi, I'm Adam" I offered.
She looked at me with a mix of surprise and genuine amusement. "I'm..."
"Anne!" I interjected. Yeah, as in Anne the (at least locally) famous and much beloved salsa teacher that I've been acquainted with socially for over a year. She had dyed her hair, and apparently by this Friday evening my brain fuel was running low.
Thank goodness she IS a kind and patient soul, or I would have been even more mortified than I was... asking such a fab salsera to dance salsa AND not recognizing her. And why oh why couldn't I have asked her to Lindy Hop instead?! :O But luckily I ended up feeling pretty comfortable sticking to the basics during the dance, chatting throughout and catching up with her since we hadn't seen each other in a few months.
* * *
Of courage and compliments
Despite assurances from nice friends that my waltzing is actually decent, I still am a bit self-conscious about it. So you can imagine how proud I am that I got up the guts to ask one of the most talented women of the evening to dance a cross-step waltz with me. Even better yet, halfway through she complimented me on my dancing and asked if I'd consider being a part of the Annual Stanford Viennese Ball Opening performance group that she's leading.
Alas, it requires rehearsals twice a week for several months, and given my uncertain schedule for the next while, I sadly can't afford to make that commitment. But I was quite honored nonetheless, since she obviously liked my waltzing :-).
* * *
Each time I attend Jammix, I always have so many mixed emotions. On one hand, I feel regret (for not learning to dance earlier in my life), I feel a little embarrassment (for being an old fart amongst so many 18 and 19 year olds!*), and -- when dancing with beginner after beginner -- I sometimes feel frustration or even exhaustion (e.g., waltzing with someone who has no frame or polka'ing with dead weight). But on the other hand, the welcoming atmosphere of openness, of joy, even giddy enthusiasm tends to outweigh the downsides for me. And -- unlike sometimes when I'm out Lindy Hopping -- I rarely worry whether I'm good enough or popular enough to be asking someone because at Jammix everyone's just happy to be dancing (it helps, too, that there are often more women than men in attendance... w00t!!!)
Also, seeing so many young people on campus doing something than drinking themselves into a stupor or grabbing each others' asses at crass frat parties is also delightfully refreshing. And no, these aren't predominantly freaks-'n'-losers, either. It's clear that -- along with indeed a bunch o' geeks (not that there's anything wrong with that
What a wonderful world, at least this piece of it! And how lucky I am to be a part of it :-)
* * *
Related links:
- "Skipping the frat scene: Jammix social dance party" [Stanford Daily newspaper]
* * *
* Regarding the age-thing, my friend Graham said to me at an earlier Jammix: "You may be old, but you're not creepy old." Whew :D
Sunday, June 5, 2005
AdamDance musings
Well, it's been the worst of times, it's been the best of times, to semi-quote those cliched novels. For those interested in my Lindy Hop and other dancing adventures, read on. :-)
I've been doing less and less Lindy Hop lately, partly because I've felt burned out on the swing scene a bit, both dancewise and otherwise. I've reached a sort of plateau where I feel I should be a lot better than I am, but I'm not quite sure how to get there or even if it's worth all the effort. I miss two of my favorite teachers who moved away (Paul and Sharon) whom I really learned well with, and I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the new faces in the swing scene nowadays.
Additionally, the increasingly heavy emphasis on fast music and slow blues -- neither of which I'm very good at -- is making me feel more and more like a fish-out-of-water around here. My visit to St. Louis for a blues dance workshop weekend to get a jump start on blues fell flat when I got really sick with allergies and also was (perhaps partly due to the sniffling and sneezing?) totally ignored amidst all the cliques. It was the complete antithesis of the warm and welcoming camps I've been to in the past, like Herrang and Swing Out Northwest.
Just one good thing from the camp: at the end of our last class, our instructors put on a 7 minute version of "Summertime." When they announced that they'd be playing it, I cringed and almost ran out the door; that was, after all, the same song that scarred me years ago when I asked someone to dance at a Lindy event before I knew what song was being played... and, too shy and not smart enough to gracefully exit, I subjected myself and my follow to a truly torturous 7 minutes of faking blues when I hadn't an inkling of a clue of anything past the old sway-back-and-forth-like-junior-high-kids. I had tried to put on a courageous face when my follow, after the first 30 seconds, asked with clear disgust: "Um, do you KNOW how to blues dance?" and I replied "No, but I'm willing to fake it!" But I didn't try blues dancing (or even faking it) for literally years after that.
So, anyway, to make a long story, well, long... this "years after that" in St. Louis, I made it through the same song quite nicely, so it was a personal triumph of sorts. Undoubtedly more interesting to me from a symbolic standpoint than any of you poor saps still reading this entry, but hey, as I've said before, it's my blog. Guaranteed fascinating and informative, or your money back! :-)
* * *
So, anyway, I've thought about just calling the whole swing/blues thing quits again a lot lately, but then every once in a while (apparently just often enough) I have such a wonderful dance and I just have this humungous grin on my face and I'll go home happy, vowing to stick with it all. From an acquaintance of mine who gushed "That's the best dance I had all night!" to other wonderful follows who literally run up to me to catch a dance... it's just hard to throw it all away.
Plus following is still fresh and fun for me, even when I don't plan on following! :-). For instance, at one of my birthday jams recently, my friend Elizabeth started off leading me, and that triggered an unexpected and pretty hilarious chain of guys and women jumping in to lead me in my jam. Only Kathy, bless her heart, gave me a brief break by following. But it was all good... totally a blast, and I'm proud that I managed to get through it not only unscathed, but looking almost decent, apparently.
I also had a delightful and unexpected birthday jam at Stanford's recent all-night "Big Dance" as well, with lots of really nice people -- many of whom I didn't even know -- coming in to dance with me. Plus my friend Graham thoughtfully helped me get through the 34 (!) birthday pivots I had to do afterwards, and -- despite a slight bump (okay, total crash) into a neighboring couple -- we all survived.
* * *
Over the last few months, I've also taken some basic classes in latin dancing and waltzing. Of the two, I think I'm more partial to waltzing at this point, because when comparing the social scenes... well, salsa seems to be -- on the whole -- much more of a drinking / pick-up-chicks-in-high-heels scene, whereas non-ballroom'y waltzing seems much more laid back, friendly, and less competitive. Oh, yeah, and unlike the couple of salsa clubs I've been to, at least all the waltz songs don't sound the same, and I can actually tell when one stops and another begins.
You laugh. I still remember (again, cringing), when a woman asked me to dance in a salsa club and I kept thinking to myself, "Self... okay, you've done all 3.14 move you know how... when the *@&!#( is this song going to end?!?!?!?" About 20 minutes later, I realized -- as my partner politely excused herself -- that the song was really many songs seemlessly tied together. What in heaven's name is going through those DJs' minds when they pull crap like this? "Heh heh, I know... right after the beginner lesson, I'm going to skillfully crossfade 10 5-minute songs into each other and see how long those newbies last on the floor!" With waltzes, I may only know a tiny tiny number of moves, but at least I can be pretty assured that the boredom'll be limited to 3-5 minutes.
And actually, the aforementioned PivotKindness friend Graham recently praised my waltz basic, and that made me very happy. So, while I may bore my partners to tears, at least they'll be twirled around in a relatively comfortable way :-).
* * *
But anyway, I really need to do some thinking about how I want to be spending my time, my effort, and so on. On one hand, it's tempting to really push myself to get over that Lindy hump/slump AND also start taking some waltz public and/or private lessons so I can more fully enjoy the FridayNightWaltzes. But on the other hand, I've been meaning to get back into my music composing, which -- while unfortunately pretty solitary -- can be truly rewarding when I'm disciplined. I wish I could snap my fingers and get by without sleeping, or create more hours in the day...
I've been doing less and less Lindy Hop lately, partly because I've felt burned out on the swing scene a bit, both dancewise and otherwise. I've reached a sort of plateau where I feel I should be a lot better than I am, but I'm not quite sure how to get there or even if it's worth all the effort. I miss two of my favorite teachers who moved away (Paul and Sharon) whom I really learned well with, and I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the new faces in the swing scene nowadays.
Additionally, the increasingly heavy emphasis on fast music and slow blues -- neither of which I'm very good at -- is making me feel more and more like a fish-out-of-water around here. My visit to St. Louis for a blues dance workshop weekend to get a jump start on blues fell flat when I got really sick with allergies and also was (perhaps partly due to the sniffling and sneezing?) totally ignored amidst all the cliques. It was the complete antithesis of the warm and welcoming camps I've been to in the past, like Herrang and Swing Out Northwest.
Just one good thing from the camp: at the end of our last class, our instructors put on a 7 minute version of "Summertime." When they announced that they'd be playing it, I cringed and almost ran out the door; that was, after all, the same song that scarred me years ago when I asked someone to dance at a Lindy event before I knew what song was being played... and, too shy and not smart enough to gracefully exit, I subjected myself and my follow to a truly torturous 7 minutes of faking blues when I hadn't an inkling of a clue of anything past the old sway-back-and-forth-like-junior-high-kids. I had tried to put on a courageous face when my follow, after the first 30 seconds, asked with clear disgust: "Um, do you KNOW how to blues dance?" and I replied "No, but I'm willing to fake it!" But I didn't try blues dancing (or even faking it) for literally years after that.
So, anyway, to make a long story, well, long... this "years after that" in St. Louis, I made it through the same song quite nicely, so it was a personal triumph of sorts. Undoubtedly more interesting to me from a symbolic standpoint than any of you poor saps still reading this entry, but hey, as I've said before, it's my blog. Guaranteed fascinating and informative, or your money back! :-)
* * *
So, anyway, I've thought about just calling the whole swing/blues thing quits again a lot lately, but then every once in a while (apparently just often enough) I have such a wonderful dance and I just have this humungous grin on my face and I'll go home happy, vowing to stick with it all. From an acquaintance of mine who gushed "That's the best dance I had all night!" to other wonderful follows who literally run up to me to catch a dance... it's just hard to throw it all away.
Plus following is still fresh and fun for me, even when I don't plan on following! :-). For instance, at one of my birthday jams recently, my friend Elizabeth started off leading me, and that triggered an unexpected and pretty hilarious chain of guys and women jumping in to lead me in my jam. Only Kathy, bless her heart, gave me a brief break by following. But it was all good... totally a blast, and I'm proud that I managed to get through it not only unscathed, but looking almost decent, apparently.
I also had a delightful and unexpected birthday jam at Stanford's recent all-night "Big Dance" as well, with lots of really nice people -- many of whom I didn't even know -- coming in to dance with me. Plus my friend Graham thoughtfully helped me get through the 34 (!) birthday pivots I had to do afterwards, and -- despite a slight bump (okay, total crash) into a neighboring couple -- we all survived.
* * *
Over the last few months, I've also taken some basic classes in latin dancing and waltzing. Of the two, I think I'm more partial to waltzing at this point, because when comparing the social scenes... well, salsa seems to be -- on the whole -- much more of a drinking / pick-up-chicks-in-high-heels scene, whereas non-ballroom'y waltzing seems much more laid back, friendly, and less competitive. Oh, yeah, and unlike the couple of salsa clubs I've been to, at least all the waltz songs don't sound the same, and I can actually tell when one stops and another begins.
You laugh. I still remember (again, cringing), when a woman asked me to dance in a salsa club and I kept thinking to myself, "Self... okay, you've done all 3.14 move you know how... when the *@&!#( is this song going to end?!?!?!?" About 20 minutes later, I realized -- as my partner politely excused herself -- that the song was really many songs seemlessly tied together. What in heaven's name is going through those DJs' minds when they pull crap like this? "Heh heh, I know... right after the beginner lesson, I'm going to skillfully crossfade 10 5-minute songs into each other and see how long those newbies last on the floor!" With waltzes, I may only know a tiny tiny number of moves, but at least I can be pretty assured that the boredom'll be limited to 3-5 minutes.
And actually, the aforementioned PivotKindness friend Graham recently praised my waltz basic, and that made me very happy. So, while I may bore my partners to tears, at least they'll be twirled around in a relatively comfortable way :-).
* * *
But anyway, I really need to do some thinking about how I want to be spending my time, my effort, and so on. On one hand, it's tempting to really push myself to get over that Lindy hump/slump AND also start taking some waltz public and/or private lessons so I can more fully enjoy the FridayNightWaltzes. But on the other hand, I've been meaning to get back into my music composing, which -- while unfortunately pretty solitary -- can be truly rewarding when I'm disciplined. I wish I could snap my fingers and get by without sleeping, or create more hours in the day...
Friday, January 28, 2005
I said no to a Goddess
I am so angry at myself.
There are a million and one reasons why I went to a blues dancing practica tonight and only danced one song... but none of them are compelling or rational reasons.
Worse yet was my assedness (is that a word?) towards the later part of the night.
I was sitting in the corner, one dance shoe on and one off in a lame attempt to stave off being asked to dance, and all of a sudden I got quite the unexpected visitor. Salina -- one of the most amazingly talented and beloved blues dancers I have ever met in my life -- plopped down cheerfully right next to me.
She looked me in the eye and asked "Want to dance?" with her trademark warm grin.
I forget exactly what I stammered out, but the gist of it was "no."
She stayed and small-talked for a few moments, then got up to dance with someone who was less of a loser. To my right, Chris looked at me, mouth literally agape like you read about or see in the movies but rarely see in real life.
"Wha...?" he started to say. He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head while he tried to express his utter confusion.
"You... um... you said no to Salina?" he continued, half as question and half as an expression of something seeming not quite right.
I muttered a lame explanation, and then there was silence. We both sat and watched Salina dance.
* * *
I wonder if there's a cure for partial shyness.
I'm not the sort of fellow one would typically think of as shy. Typically cheerful, talkative, occasionally even witty, I wouldn't say I'm the life of a party, but I'm sometimes the center of a small amount of attention.
But in certain contexts, I become intensely uncomfortable and I simply withdraw. I claim -- to others and myself -- that I want to watch and learn, to absorb... but as a fellow retorted in a friendly way "You don't learn by watching. You learn by doing. Get off your ass and ask someone to dance. Sheesh. Practice!"
And besides, I know that I really don't learn anything or get any better by watching. I become mesmerized, entranced, absorbed... but the intellectual part of my brain refuses to take notes. It's too busy making excuses for why I shouldn't be dancing. There are way too many guys, and most are better than I am -- let the women dance with them. None of my good female friends are here, and I don't want to dance so close with mere acquaintances. I shouldn't subject any women to my dancing especially tonight when I'm so tired and cranky...
* * *
Admittedly, too, there are the painful memories of recent Dentist Dances -- that is to say, the dances where the follow looks like she'd rather be under the drill at a dentist's office than in my arms. For some reason, the memory of those -- at least in circumstances like this -- are more vivid than the warm memories of blissfully connected dances. Or the fact that one charming follow recently asked me to lead her in blues dancing... seven songs in a row. Or that a professional dancer commented with awe two weeks ago that I had improved fabulously, and sought me out for delicious dances three times in the same night.
No, in my irrational world, my feelings of desperate incompetence -- at least in this arena -- outweigh my accomplishments. And it all makes me so angry at myself.
I know I will never get better if I don't practice. And I know the longer I put it off, the longer I make excuses, the longer it will be -- if ever -- that I become Good. And I know that -- despite the sharp and sour warnings of women who rant to groups of us men that there's little worse than being stuck in a blues dance with a lousy lead for 10 minutes -- a Dentist Dance shall pass and is not the end of the world or even the end of my career or a sign that I'll never be married or an indication that I'm somehow a bad person or anything like that...
And stupidly, it's not like this is completely new territory for me. I went through this same self-doubting and self-loathing and withdrawal in Lindy Hop -- and, indeed, still suffer through some bad nights of this sort. And now... heck, I'm at least above average in my scene, often asked to dance, even complimented pretty regularly.
* * *
I wish I could be more like my friend Niles. You know the part of the brain that says, "Dude, you shouldn't do that! You can't ask her! You're looking like a total fool! Shouldn't you be more cautious?"... yeah, that limiting part of the brain? Well, his was apparently lobotomized at or near birth. From his first days in San Francisco, he asked the instructors to dance, he asked the hotties, the ice queens, the Lindy snobs, the most talented and the least accessible... he asked all of them to dance. Repeatedly.
I asked him how he did it, and he looked at me like *I* was crazy. "Huh?" was his response, "If they say no they say no. What's the big deal?"
Well, as you might guess, Niles got really good, really fast. And now all the hotties, the ice queens, the Lindy snobs... they ask him.
I wonder if Niles has this sort of fearlessness in everyday life. "Hi!" I envision him slapping his boss on the back, "I'd like a raise, please. $20-$25K more a year. Can I sign the new contract tomorrow?"
Then again, maybe not. Niles confided in me last week that he was extremely shy. No, really.
But that's fodder for another post. I think I'm going to go get some much-needed sleep and see if I'm able to replenish my store of Courage. Wish me luck.
Added on April 8, 2005:
I'm hauling my ass to this. I'll either become totally discouraged or I'll learn to love blues and actually get some more confidence and mad skillz. I'm hoping for -- and optimistically expecting -- the latter :-). After all, when I was similarly bummed about my lack of lindy libido, I went here for two weeks and that delicious kick in pants made all the difference in my dancing... and my dancing outlook.
There are a million and one reasons why I went to a blues dancing practica tonight and only danced one song... but none of them are compelling or rational reasons.
Worse yet was my assedness (is that a word?) towards the later part of the night.
I was sitting in the corner, one dance shoe on and one off in a lame attempt to stave off being asked to dance, and all of a sudden I got quite the unexpected visitor. Salina -- one of the most amazingly talented and beloved blues dancers I have ever met in my life -- plopped down cheerfully right next to me.
She looked me in the eye and asked "Want to dance?" with her trademark warm grin.
I forget exactly what I stammered out, but the gist of it was "no."
She stayed and small-talked for a few moments, then got up to dance with someone who was less of a loser. To my right, Chris looked at me, mouth literally agape like you read about or see in the movies but rarely see in real life.
"Wha...?" he started to say. He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head while he tried to express his utter confusion.
"You... um... you said no to Salina?" he continued, half as question and half as an expression of something seeming not quite right.
I muttered a lame explanation, and then there was silence. We both sat and watched Salina dance.
* * *
I wonder if there's a cure for partial shyness.
I'm not the sort of fellow one would typically think of as shy. Typically cheerful, talkative, occasionally even witty, I wouldn't say I'm the life of a party, but I'm sometimes the center of a small amount of attention.
But in certain contexts, I become intensely uncomfortable and I simply withdraw. I claim -- to others and myself -- that I want to watch and learn, to absorb... but as a fellow retorted in a friendly way "You don't learn by watching. You learn by doing. Get off your ass and ask someone to dance. Sheesh. Practice!"
And besides, I know that I really don't learn anything or get any better by watching. I become mesmerized, entranced, absorbed... but the intellectual part of my brain refuses to take notes. It's too busy making excuses for why I shouldn't be dancing. There are way too many guys, and most are better than I am -- let the women dance with them. None of my good female friends are here, and I don't want to dance so close with mere acquaintances. I shouldn't subject any women to my dancing especially tonight when I'm so tired and cranky...
* * *
Admittedly, too, there are the painful memories of recent Dentist Dances -- that is to say, the dances where the follow looks like she'd rather be under the drill at a dentist's office than in my arms. For some reason, the memory of those -- at least in circumstances like this -- are more vivid than the warm memories of blissfully connected dances. Or the fact that one charming follow recently asked me to lead her in blues dancing... seven songs in a row. Or that a professional dancer commented with awe two weeks ago that I had improved fabulously, and sought me out for delicious dances three times in the same night.
No, in my irrational world, my feelings of desperate incompetence -- at least in this arena -- outweigh my accomplishments. And it all makes me so angry at myself.
I know I will never get better if I don't practice. And I know the longer I put it off, the longer I make excuses, the longer it will be -- if ever -- that I become Good. And I know that -- despite the sharp and sour warnings of women who rant to groups of us men that there's little worse than being stuck in a blues dance with a lousy lead for 10 minutes -- a Dentist Dance shall pass and is not the end of the world or even the end of my career or a sign that I'll never be married or an indication that I'm somehow a bad person or anything like that...
And stupidly, it's not like this is completely new territory for me. I went through this same self-doubting and self-loathing and withdrawal in Lindy Hop -- and, indeed, still suffer through some bad nights of this sort. And now... heck, I'm at least above average in my scene, often asked to dance, even complimented pretty regularly.
* * *
I wish I could be more like my friend Niles. You know the part of the brain that says, "Dude, you shouldn't do that! You can't ask her! You're looking like a total fool! Shouldn't you be more cautious?"... yeah, that limiting part of the brain? Well, his was apparently lobotomized at or near birth. From his first days in San Francisco, he asked the instructors to dance, he asked the hotties, the ice queens, the Lindy snobs, the most talented and the least accessible... he asked all of them to dance. Repeatedly.
I asked him how he did it, and he looked at me like *I* was crazy. "Huh?" was his response, "If they say no they say no. What's the big deal?"
Well, as you might guess, Niles got really good, really fast. And now all the hotties, the ice queens, the Lindy snobs... they ask him.
I wonder if Niles has this sort of fearlessness in everyday life. "Hi!" I envision him slapping his boss on the back, "I'd like a raise, please. $20-$25K more a year. Can I sign the new contract tomorrow?"
Then again, maybe not. Niles confided in me last week that he was extremely shy. No, really.
But that's fodder for another post. I think I'm going to go get some much-needed sleep and see if I'm able to replenish my store of Courage. Wish me luck.
Added on April 8, 2005:
I'm hauling my ass to this. I'll either become totally discouraged or I'll learn to love blues and actually get some more confidence and mad skillz. I'm hoping for -- and optimistically expecting -- the latter :-). After all, when I was similarly bummed about my lack of lindy libido, I went here for two weeks and that delicious kick in pants made all the difference in my dancing... and my dancing outlook.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
My experience at a camp for swingers
Recently I attended a special weeklong camp for swingers.
Every night we swung in different rooms, swapping partners frequently. Sometimes we barely spoke a word, just motioning for someone to join us, or even just flashing them a smile and a come-hither look. Typically, most of our encounters lasted about 3-4 minutes, but occasionally they went on a bit longer. Sometimes slow and sultry, other times fast and furious... definitely a lot of variety!
During the day most of us worked with experts to help us connect with our partners better... becoming more sensitive, skilled, talented... touching her just right so she'd come back for more.
Some people started off more experienced than others, but that's understandable. I mean, one of the most popular guys at the camp was 90, but we also had folks as young as 16. Both of 'em definitely held their own.
Let me tell you, there was a lot of heavy breathing goin' on, and everyone was getting pretty hot and sweaty. Guys were taking off their shirts, and lots of campers could barely walk some mornings.
One of the neat things was that people were pretty open minded. You could look around and see guys doing it with guys, girls with girls, and in a few crazy instances, sometimes there were threesomes. Also, it was a friendly crowd: I don't think anyone turned me down, and in some cases, women came back eagerly wanting to spend more time with me.
I did have a bit of performance anxiety, I must admit... especially when this really hot French woman made me show off with her in front of about 50 others. But in the end, she gave me some great tips, and I heard admiring murmurs afterwards: "Wow, did you see Adam with Virginie?!"
All in all, I made some great friends at Swing Out Northwest 2004 and also feel that my dancing improved a lot. I'm really looking forward to my next swing dance camp!
--
Related links: [Edited August 29, 2006 and again July 4, 2008 to account for expired and new links]
- (The Swingout Northwest Dance Camp site is no longer available, unfortunately)
- The Swing Out New Hampshire site is, however, current... and interesting. This is the camp I'm attending this year (2006).
- My Swingout New Hampshire photos
P.S. -- Some likely helpful info: [Added July 4, 2008]
- "Swing dancing" is the umbrella name of many forms of dancing derived from the American dance "lindy hop" which was invented in the early 1900's. I believe it includes east coast swing, west coast swing, jive, rockabilly, boogie, etc.
- A "swingout" (or, in British English, a "lindy turn," is a core (but difficult to master) pattern of lindy hop.
- You can find some outstanding lindy hop clips on Youtube. :-D
Every night we swung in different rooms, swapping partners frequently. Sometimes we barely spoke a word, just motioning for someone to join us, or even just flashing them a smile and a come-hither look. Typically, most of our encounters lasted about 3-4 minutes, but occasionally they went on a bit longer. Sometimes slow and sultry, other times fast and furious... definitely a lot of variety!
During the day most of us worked with experts to help us connect with our partners better... becoming more sensitive, skilled, talented... touching her just right so she'd come back for more.
Some people started off more experienced than others, but that's understandable. I mean, one of the most popular guys at the camp was 90, but we also had folks as young as 16. Both of 'em definitely held their own.
Let me tell you, there was a lot of heavy breathing goin' on, and everyone was getting pretty hot and sweaty. Guys were taking off their shirts, and lots of campers could barely walk some mornings.
One of the neat things was that people were pretty open minded. You could look around and see guys doing it with guys, girls with girls, and in a few crazy instances, sometimes there were threesomes. Also, it was a friendly crowd: I don't think anyone turned me down, and in some cases, women came back eagerly wanting to spend more time with me.
I did have a bit of performance anxiety, I must admit... especially when this really hot French woman made me show off with her in front of about 50 others. But in the end, she gave me some great tips, and I heard admiring murmurs afterwards: "Wow, did you see Adam with Virginie?!"
All in all, I made some great friends at Swing Out Northwest 2004 and also feel that my dancing improved a lot. I'm really looking forward to my next swing dance camp!
--
Related links: [Edited August 29, 2006 and again July 4, 2008 to account for expired and new links]
- (The Swingout Northwest Dance Camp site is no longer available, unfortunately)
- The Swing Out New Hampshire site is, however, current... and interesting. This is the camp I'm attending this year (2006).
- My Swingout New Hampshire photos
P.S. -- Some likely helpful info: [Added July 4, 2008]
- "Swing dancing" is the umbrella name of many forms of dancing derived from the American dance "lindy hop" which was invented in the early 1900's. I believe it includes east coast swing, west coast swing, jive, rockabilly, boogie, etc.
- A "swingout" (or, in British English, a "lindy turn," is a core (but difficult to master) pattern of lindy hop.
- You can find some outstanding lindy hop clips on Youtube. :-D
Wednesday, May 5, 2004
The complicated connections of dance and beyond
This past Thursday, I danced with one particularly amazing follow, and everything was on. She smiled, I smiled, we moved so well together and connected wonderfully. To my surprise and great pleasure, she continued beaming after our dance and complimented me on my "great connection" and some other stuff that I can't recall since I was in such a delighted daze. Here is this competition-winning, well-respected follow that is gushing about a dance with mediocre-ol' me!
In an ironic twist, this particular woman -- we'll call her Maria -- is often sitting on the sidelines, not being asked to dance. And that just seems downright strange to me.
Maria, I think, is a telling example of the wackiness of human nature. Here's someone that's talented, attractive, and kind. And yet the guys aren't flocking to her... dancewise, or -- from what I can tell -- otherwise.
I'd chalk it up to intimidation, but there are other women who are equally talented and captivating that still attract large groups of admirers and suitors.
Why do we tend to associate with certain people and not others? Why aren't we more logical beings? Why is our socializing so difficult to predict or explain?
And when will I get up the guts to ask Maria to dance again? How does one bravely follow up on such bliss?! :-)
In an ironic twist, this particular woman -- we'll call her Maria -- is often sitting on the sidelines, not being asked to dance. And that just seems downright strange to me.
Maria, I think, is a telling example of the wackiness of human nature. Here's someone that's talented, attractive, and kind. And yet the guys aren't flocking to her... dancewise, or -- from what I can tell -- otherwise.
I'd chalk it up to intimidation, but there are other women who are equally talented and captivating that still attract large groups of admirers and suitors.
Why do we tend to associate with certain people and not others? Why aren't we more logical beings? Why is our socializing so difficult to predict or explain?
And when will I get up the guts to ask Maria to dance again? How does one bravely follow up on such bliss?! :-)
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
(non) sexual healin'
As many folks know, I'm a Lindy Hop (swing dancing) addict, as evidenced by my creation of the Lindy Hop Whiteboard Supreme, and my dance entries in this blog.
Every once in a while, especially on 'off' nights, I ask myself why I continue to dance for hours every week, and what Lindy Hop really means to me.
Over the past three years of my dance life, my friends and I have come up with a number of theories:
- It's the music.
IMHO, not liking swing music is sort of like not liking ice cream. I suppose there are a few weirdos out there that fall into either group, but on the whole, most people I know enjoy a strikingly similar feeling of joy when they listen to the playful energy of swing or indulge in the creamy goodness of ice cream.
- It's the endorphins.
Lindy Hop is very often exuberant and energetic. It burns calories, it makes you sweat, and -- like any exercise -- undoubtedly contributes to one's supply of happy-making endorphins.
- It's the socializing.
Lindy Hop, more than pretty much any other dance I've seen or dabbled in, is a supremely social dance. It's infused with connection and conversation, on and off the dance floor, and while the scene has a surprising mix of extroverts AND introverts, it's generally a wonderful hobby to meet and get to know other people.
- It's the sex.
What happens when you get a bunch of young and young-at-heart energetic, playful people with skillful body movement talents in close proximity? Yep, there's definitely some horizontal hula'ing going on. And, ahem, I'm not gonna argue with the rightly and widely held belief that dancers make better lovers ;-)
* * *
All of that makes enough sense, eh? But there's something more, something that I didn't even think about until last night when I was having a delightful and comfortable dance with a warm and talented follow.
I learned that she's in graduate school, studying psychology, and specifically an area of psychology that involves the science of touch. And we're not talking sexual touch here, either, but rather the sort of nurturing and essential touching that scientific studies have proven contributes to babies' well-being... and that common sense suggests provides healing and happiness to the rest of us.
* * *
It was then that I realized how much the whole concept of touch means to me and likely many of my Lindy Hop crazy friends. There's such a comfort and warmth in -- if you'll forgive the modified Moulin Rouge reference -- holding someone and being held in return.
At least in my case (and I suspect, for most others as well), this is all not really about sex or even necessarily flirting. As a heterosexual fella, I still enjoy hugging my friends regardless of their gender, and I likewise appreciate being a follower in Lindy Hop, even with guys.
Sure, there's sometimes an underlying sensuality in dancing, especially when blues-dancing with someone you are attracted to from the way they look or the way they dance, and so on. But I still think that the overall non-sexual pleasure of touch is one of the leading factors that contributes to folks' joy in dancing, and this also highlights just how much closeness our American society often lacks.
In much of Europe and Latin America, for instance, there seems to be less perceived overlap between friendly touching and sexual overtures, and I really like and respect that. When I lived in Europe, I found that I was encouraged to give and receive friendly hugs or even snuggle with others without ulterior motives or expectations. In contrast, most of American culture seems to be plagued with an unhealthy puritanical virgin/whore dichotomy, whereby you're either friends (shaking hands) or you're sleeping together / wanting to sleep together.
* * *
Lindy Hop, then, serves as a welcome respite... friendly and tactile and accepting, with sex as a possibility but not a given or an endgame. And while I can understand being accused of hyperbole, I honestly believe that if there were more communities like this and more touching in this manner, the world would be a more peaceful and productive place.
* * *
Added on 4/30/2004:
I just realized that my last few entries in the Dancing category of this blog have mentioned sex, which somewhat embarrassingly contrasts with the key point of my entry above. Ahem. Um... perhaps I'm a blog marketing whore? ;-) Or, more seriously, in some cases I have indeed linked dancing to sex metaphorically because there are some similarities... and it also conveys some key ideas in ways non-dancers can understand. I hope you still respect me :D
Edited on 6/2/2007:
Updated / removed no-longer-live URLs
Every once in a while, especially on 'off' nights, I ask myself why I continue to dance for hours every week, and what Lindy Hop really means to me.
Over the past three years of my dance life, my friends and I have come up with a number of theories:
- It's the music.
IMHO, not liking swing music is sort of like not liking ice cream. I suppose there are a few weirdos out there that fall into either group, but on the whole, most people I know enjoy a strikingly similar feeling of joy when they listen to the playful energy of swing or indulge in the creamy goodness of ice cream.
- It's the endorphins.
Lindy Hop is very often exuberant and energetic. It burns calories, it makes you sweat, and -- like any exercise -- undoubtedly contributes to one's supply of happy-making endorphins.
- It's the socializing.
Lindy Hop, more than pretty much any other dance I've seen or dabbled in, is a supremely social dance. It's infused with connection and conversation, on and off the dance floor, and while the scene has a surprising mix of extroverts AND introverts, it's generally a wonderful hobby to meet and get to know other people.
- It's the sex.
What happens when you get a bunch of young and young-at-heart energetic, playful people with skillful body movement talents in close proximity? Yep, there's definitely some horizontal hula'ing going on. And, ahem, I'm not gonna argue with the rightly and widely held belief that dancers make better lovers ;-)
* * *
All of that makes enough sense, eh? But there's something more, something that I didn't even think about until last night when I was having a delightful and comfortable dance with a warm and talented follow.
I learned that she's in graduate school, studying psychology, and specifically an area of psychology that involves the science of touch. And we're not talking sexual touch here, either, but rather the sort of nurturing and essential touching that scientific studies have proven contributes to babies' well-being... and that common sense suggests provides healing and happiness to the rest of us.
* * *
It was then that I realized how much the whole concept of touch means to me and likely many of my Lindy Hop crazy friends. There's such a comfort and warmth in -- if you'll forgive the modified Moulin Rouge reference -- holding someone and being held in return.
At least in my case (and I suspect, for most others as well), this is all not really about sex or even necessarily flirting. As a heterosexual fella, I still enjoy hugging my friends regardless of their gender, and I likewise appreciate being a follower in Lindy Hop, even with guys.
Sure, there's sometimes an underlying sensuality in dancing, especially when blues-dancing with someone you are attracted to from the way they look or the way they dance, and so on. But I still think that the overall non-sexual pleasure of touch is one of the leading factors that contributes to folks' joy in dancing, and this also highlights just how much closeness our American society often lacks.
In much of Europe and Latin America, for instance, there seems to be less perceived overlap between friendly touching and sexual overtures, and I really like and respect that. When I lived in Europe, I found that I was encouraged to give and receive friendly hugs or even snuggle with others without ulterior motives or expectations. In contrast, most of American culture seems to be plagued with an unhealthy puritanical virgin/whore dichotomy, whereby you're either friends (shaking hands) or you're sleeping together / wanting to sleep together.
* * *
Lindy Hop, then, serves as a welcome respite... friendly and tactile and accepting, with sex as a possibility but not a given or an endgame. And while I can understand being accused of hyperbole, I honestly believe that if there were more communities like this and more touching in this manner, the world would be a more peaceful and productive place.
* * *
Added on 4/30/2004:
I just realized that my last few entries in the Dancing category of this blog have mentioned sex, which somewhat embarrassingly contrasts with the key point of my entry above. Ahem. Um... perhaps I'm a blog marketing whore? ;-) Or, more seriously, in some cases I have indeed linked dancing to sex metaphorically because there are some similarities... and it also conveys some key ideas in ways non-dancers can understand. I hope you still respect me :D
Edited on 6/2/2007:
Updated / removed no-longer-live URLs
Saturday, February 14, 2004
To neither have nor hold -- a voyeur's lament.
Imagine that you're invited to a private house party every three months or so.
Live music. Free alcohol and snacks. Beautiful and talented women. Handsome and confident men.
Now imagine that nearly everyone at the party is speaking a different language, one that you can appreciate for its beauty and intricacy, but cannot speak.
The lights are dark. No smoke, but the air is thick... and you both move and watch as if in water.
Even the dog is beautiful, and, like most of the others there, tolerant of but uninterested in your presence. You don't matter here.
For you don't belong. You don't fit in. You sit, you watch, you absorb, you admire, you dream of what it'd be like to be a part of it. But it's out of your reach. You are, as someone teasingly comments to you briefly, but "a voyeur."
A voyeur. Confirmation that you shouldn't even try to be part of a crowd that is -- if not above -- at least distinctly apart from you.
Ah, a warm face -- a non-model -- breaks the spell for a moment, speaking to you, but then flittering away to disappear into anothers' arms. Gone.
Still surrounded by the foreign language that flows, that crackles with vibrance around you. Accentuated by playful, sensual, teasing embraces and even kisses that may be transitory but you desire to share in them nonetheless.
But you do not. You cannot.
You stumble out the door, finally overcoming the urge to sink deeper into the couch while watching the world swirl by... walking past the teacher, the smoker, the lover, all models, all perfect in their own way beyond your reach this evening, nay, this morning.
They say goodbye, and you nod, dumbly, walking faster down the stairs. Car keys, the whir of a motor, and then before you know it, back home... not quite ready for bed.
And here you are, typing a stream of consciousness in sadness and even amazement of what you're a part of for several magical, surreal, miserable nights each year.
This, now, will be the last. No more.
Why try to be what you cannot?
Live music. Free alcohol and snacks. Beautiful and talented women. Handsome and confident men.
Now imagine that nearly everyone at the party is speaking a different language, one that you can appreciate for its beauty and intricacy, but cannot speak.
The lights are dark. No smoke, but the air is thick... and you both move and watch as if in water.
Even the dog is beautiful, and, like most of the others there, tolerant of but uninterested in your presence. You don't matter here.
For you don't belong. You don't fit in. You sit, you watch, you absorb, you admire, you dream of what it'd be like to be a part of it. But it's out of your reach. You are, as someone teasingly comments to you briefly, but "a voyeur."
A voyeur. Confirmation that you shouldn't even try to be part of a crowd that is -- if not above -- at least distinctly apart from you.
Ah, a warm face -- a non-model -- breaks the spell for a moment, speaking to you, but then flittering away to disappear into anothers' arms. Gone.
Still surrounded by the foreign language that flows, that crackles with vibrance around you. Accentuated by playful, sensual, teasing embraces and even kisses that may be transitory but you desire to share in them nonetheless.
But you do not. You cannot.
You stumble out the door, finally overcoming the urge to sink deeper into the couch while watching the world swirl by... walking past the teacher, the smoker, the lover, all models, all perfect in their own way beyond your reach this evening, nay, this morning.
They say goodbye, and you nod, dumbly, walking faster down the stairs. Car keys, the whir of a motor, and then before you know it, back home... not quite ready for bed.
And here you are, typing a stream of consciousness in sadness and even amazement of what you're a part of for several magical, surreal, miserable nights each year.
This, now, will be the last. No more.
Why try to be what you cannot?
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
The Lindy Hop equivalent to comparing sexual partners
Last night, after dancing with a budding Rockstar, she and I had a chance to chat for a bit. After a few minutes, she asked me who my favorite follows were, and -- since I had already noted how much I was impressed with and liked her dancing -- I understandably mentioned the names of some other follows. In response, she noted who her favorite leads were (several of them I'm friends with) and why.
At the time, I didn't really think much of this, but then it sunk in, and now I view the conversation with both detached bemusement and slight awkwardness.
I'm clearly not anywhere near the Rockstar league in my dancing, nor do I think I'll ever reach that level of ability and status. This has been the cause of occasional consternation for me, admittedly, but that's actually a different issue.
Instead, I see our conversation last night slightly akin to former lovers talking about and ranking the porn stars they've slept with.
"Well, it just feels really smooth with Jake... he handles me perfectly... assertively without being rough."
"I just lose myself in Carl. He's so playful, yet sensual..."
...and I'm thinking, whoa, I have a small, er, um, a performance problem of sorts.
It's petty for me to even think this way, I acknowledge. But nonetheless, it still feels a bit weird dancing with someone and yet knowing you'll never measure up to their other partners, past, present and future.
In some ways, all of this could be used as a learning tool, I suppose. I'll go stalk Jake and Carl, coerce them into giving me tips or free mini-lessons, and/or maybe just hope to absorb some of their mad skillz by osmosis. Coincidentally, earlier that night, I already danced (followed) with Carl, and dammit if he AIN'T a dreamy lead!
Well, it's worth a try, isn't it? :D
At the time, I didn't really think much of this, but then it sunk in, and now I view the conversation with both detached bemusement and slight awkwardness.
I'm clearly not anywhere near the Rockstar league in my dancing, nor do I think I'll ever reach that level of ability and status. This has been the cause of occasional consternation for me, admittedly, but that's actually a different issue.
Instead, I see our conversation last night slightly akin to former lovers talking about and ranking the porn stars they've slept with.
"Well, it just feels really smooth with Jake... he handles me perfectly... assertively without being rough."
"I just lose myself in Carl. He's so playful, yet sensual..."
...and I'm thinking, whoa, I have a small, er, um, a performance problem of sorts.
It's petty for me to even think this way, I acknowledge. But nonetheless, it still feels a bit weird dancing with someone and yet knowing you'll never measure up to their other partners, past, present and future.
In some ways, all of this could be used as a learning tool, I suppose. I'll go stalk Jake and Carl, coerce them into giving me tips or free mini-lessons, and/or maybe just hope to absorb some of their mad skillz by osmosis. Coincidentally, earlier that night, I already danced (followed) with Carl, and dammit if he AIN'T a dreamy lead!
Well, it's worth a try, isn't it? :D
Tuesday, November 4, 2003
I anonymously slapped her, yet she kissed me
A few weeks ago, I posted a note on a prominent swing board urging dancers to "Just Say No" when they really don't feel like dancing with someone. The gist of my note was as follows:
---
To my great surprise AND mortification, I received an e-mail in response to my now-very-active "Just Say No" thread... from one of the very women with whom I had such a miserable dance.
When I read the first few words of the note, indicating that this was one of the people that had incited me to write the somewhat-nasty note, I shuddered in unpleasant anticipation of what she had to say in the rest of her note.
"Adam, you're really an asshole. Maybe if you learned to be a better dancer, or smelled nicer, you'd have decent dances and you wouldn't have to whine on a message forum."
or
"What nerve you have complaining about our dance in public! Not only will I not dance with you ever again, but none of my friends will either. You're certainly not welcome back [in this city]."
---
No, instead, this is what she wrote:
I was completely stunned. And largely speechless.
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, and sent her a brief but sincere thank you, noting that I, too, hoped she and I would get to 'make up' for the less-than-stellar dance by having a much better one in the future.
---
So what lessons can we take from this? The kindness of strangers, even when they're slapped? The potential perils of posting scathing but well-meant notes on public forums? I'm not sure. But at least now I have caught my breath and my heart isn't racing anymore ;-)
One of the key acknowledgments in my note was the fact that saying no to a dance request is largely considered taboo in the Lindy Hop scene. My note was an effort to try to turn the tide and make it socially acceptable to turn someone down... in particular, when the alternative is an unpleasant dance for both people.
[...] I'd like to go against conventional wisdom and practice and urge people to say NO when asked to dance if saying yes would result in misery for both dancers.
With regards to the three awful dances I had recently, in each case, the follow accepted my invitation quite reluctantly. Maybe she just learned that her pet poodle died, maybe I look like her abusive ex-boyfriend, or maybe she was just really, really tired. But it doesn't matter. In each case, her movements and expression while dancing with me evoked images of someone cleaning the bathrooms of Grand Central Station with their tongue, and boy, was that painful (dancing with her, but yeah, undoubtedly the imagery, too).
If these women had simply said, "No," the following would have happened:
- We'd both have been saved several minutes of unpleasantness.
- We'd have had the opportunity to likely ENJOY several minutes of blissful dancing with a different partner (or a bit of blissful rest). [...]
---
To my great surprise AND mortification, I received an e-mail in response to my now-very-active "Just Say No" thread... from one of the very women with whom I had such a miserable dance.
When I read the first few words of the note, indicating that this was one of the people that had incited me to write the somewhat-nasty note, I shuddered in unpleasant anticipation of what she had to say in the rest of her note.
"Adam, you're really an asshole. Maybe if you learned to be a better dancer, or smelled nicer, you'd have decent dances and you wouldn't have to whine on a message forum."
or
"What nerve you have complaining about our dance in public! Not only will I not dance with you ever again, but none of my friends will either. You're certainly not welcome back [in this city]."
---
No, instead, this is what she wrote:
---
Hey Adam,
I am that girl that looked like she would rather have a root canal than dance (by the way, the analogy was really funny but true) :-). I apologise for making it so miserable for you. I knew I should have said no but like it was stated in the thread, social politeness sometimes rules out.
Again, I am so sorry that it was that horrible (and I knew it was when we finished) and after the eternal song finished I quit dancing for the whole night and turned down about two other dancers before leaving (I should have quit sooner, huh.) Hopefully I can make it up to you some other time.
Hope you have more great dances,
[her name]
I was completely stunned. And largely speechless.
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, and sent her a brief but sincere thank you, noting that I, too, hoped she and I would get to 'make up' for the less-than-stellar dance by having a much better one in the future.
---
So what lessons can we take from this? The kindness of strangers, even when they're slapped? The potential perils of posting scathing but well-meant notes on public forums? I'm not sure. But at least now I have caught my breath and my heart isn't racing anymore ;-)
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
On dancing and cybersex
I once had a Lindy Hop-related yahoo ID (note: NEVER put "swing-" or especially "swinger-" anything in IM or e-mail names!) and I got some, ahem, interesting messages.
I remember one yahoo asking me if I wanted to "roll play."
I replied, "Sure! You be the Rye and I'll be the Kaiser!"
Flew right past him, it did :|. Maybe I should have said, "Sure... I'll rise to the occasion for a little dough!" heh heh
I remember one yahoo asking me if I wanted to "roll play."
I replied, "Sure! You be the Rye and I'll be the Kaiser!"
Flew right past him, it did :|. Maybe I should have said, "Sure... I'll rise to the occasion for a little dough!" heh heh
Friday, October 10, 2003
Now I swing both ways, and I love it!
I don't know exactly when the thought first occurred to me.
But eventually I felt that it was something I really wanted, something I had to try.
Actually, it kind of started about two months ago, with the realization that sometimes there just weren't enough women around, and, well... I had needs.
With so many more leads than follows in the San Francisco swing dance scene, being a lead often meant either scrambling to grab a follow, or sitting out a dance. I knew there had to be a better way.
So a couple of months ago, I took a deep breath, and decided that for the evening's beginning drop-in swing class, I'd assume the traditional "woman's" role, and be a follower.
Things went more smoothly than I anticipated, and I even thought it was pretty fun, so I braved the next hour's intermediate drop-in class as a follower as well... and survived that, too! After having a very talented leader friend of mine twirl me around repeatedly for a bit after class without me throwing up or falling over, I decided... hey, I rather like this and I can do it!
So this month I enrolled in a four-week beginning swing dance series with the famous Paul and Sharon just so I could get the fundamentals of following.
---
I don't plan on giving up on my leading, and in fact, I've already signed up for a private lesson with Sharon as a lead. But as I've learned from this fascinating thread on the Yehoodi swing board, there are many advantages to learning to follow as a guy... not least of which is the opportunity to become a better leader.
This comment by a talented follower / teacher in New York speaks volumes:
---
I admit that learning to follow as a guy may seem a strange and roundabout way of becoming a better leader. And for the homophobes, it may be not only an alien but a particularly unpleasant notion. Luckily, however, I live in San Francisco, which boasts a huge number of both talented and tolerant swing dancers.
And lest the journey of followdom seem wholly like a sacrifice to reach a desired end goal, ponder this:
Blues dancing with one of the most talented and sexy dancers... with her leading and me following!. Oh my!
After hearing that I was just starting to learn following, Miriam -- whom I barely know and had previously met only briefly -- sent me an e-mail out of the blue:
Sure enough, halfway through the dance evening, Miriam found me, immediately pulled me close, and began teaching me some fundamentals of following... feeling weight shifts, pushing my back tight against her hand, coming straight into a swingout, and absolutely, positively not anticipating anything.
A slow blues song came on, and Miriam led me in sensual, subtle movements and a few bodyrolls. To my embarrassment, I giggled, more out of delight than nervousness. I couldn't stop smiling because she really WAS leading me and getting me to move my body... in ways I had never done much less learned, and I had never felt anything like this. In dancing, I had always been the one in control, or at least trying to be in control. I was always required to think ahead, plan where to be, how to move my follow. As a lead I mostly had to 'talk' and my partner had to 'listen.' But with following, it's apparently 99% about feeling and listening.
So here I was, pressed tight against an amazing, captivating woman, and I was learning how to somehow get in touch with my feminine side. How ironic! :-)
Those fifteen minutes or so with Miriam flew by, and -- feeling both grateful and goofy -- I thanked her profusely.
---
One of my guy friends, who had led me earlier in the night, remarked that after my mini-lesson, I followed "tons better." All I know is that I still feel quite aglow from those few memorable moments with Miriam. There's something simply stunning about completely letting go and having a talented and confident (okay, and very attractive) dancer be responsible for how you move, even how you feel the music.
So I already love being a follow. But I'm equally inspired to boost my leading skills, so my follows can feel more of what I felt with Miriam. That, in my mind, is one of the ultimate rewards of dancing... achieving a connection that enables you and your partner to forget the rest of the world for even three minutes, lost in the music, lost in each other.
But eventually I felt that it was something I really wanted, something I had to try.
Actually, it kind of started about two months ago, with the realization that sometimes there just weren't enough women around, and, well... I had needs.
With so many more leads than follows in the San Francisco swing dance scene, being a lead often meant either scrambling to grab a follow, or sitting out a dance. I knew there had to be a better way.
So a couple of months ago, I took a deep breath, and decided that for the evening's beginning drop-in swing class, I'd assume the traditional "woman's" role, and be a follower.
Things went more smoothly than I anticipated, and I even thought it was pretty fun, so I braved the next hour's intermediate drop-in class as a follower as well... and survived that, too! After having a very talented leader friend of mine twirl me around repeatedly for a bit after class without me throwing up or falling over, I decided... hey, I rather like this and I can do it!
So this month I enrolled in a four-week beginning swing dance series with the famous Paul and Sharon just so I could get the fundamentals of following.
---
I don't plan on giving up on my leading, and in fact, I've already signed up for a private lesson with Sharon as a lead. But as I've learned from this fascinating thread on the Yehoodi swing board, there are many advantages to learning to follow as a guy... not least of which is the opportunity to become a better leader.
This comment by a talented follower / teacher in New York speaks volumes:
As you begin to learn what followers feel you can refine your lead to be more clear, learn limits on either extreme of light and heavy, learn the difference between looking good and feeling good, and even what moves are more fun for the follower to be lead through.
Women who become leaders usually feel amazing and look really boring. This is because they know what it feels like and usually care most about that area. Becoming a follower can help you get a little more of that in your lead.
And when you get more of that women will line up to dance with you. Seriously! :-)
---
I admit that learning to follow as a guy may seem a strange and roundabout way of becoming a better leader. And for the homophobes, it may be not only an alien but a particularly unpleasant notion. Luckily, however, I live in San Francisco, which boasts a huge number of both talented and tolerant swing dancers.
And lest the journey of followdom seem wholly like a sacrifice to reach a desired end goal, ponder this:
Blues dancing with one of the most talented and sexy dancers... with her leading and me following!. Oh my!
After hearing that I was just starting to learn following, Miriam -- whom I barely know and had previously met only briefly -- sent me an e-mail out of the blue:
i'll be at 920 [a popular swing dance venue] on thursday. i can give you a few pointers if you'd like.
miriam
Sure enough, halfway through the dance evening, Miriam found me, immediately pulled me close, and began teaching me some fundamentals of following... feeling weight shifts, pushing my back tight against her hand, coming straight into a swingout, and absolutely, positively not anticipating anything.
A slow blues song came on, and Miriam led me in sensual, subtle movements and a few bodyrolls. To my embarrassment, I giggled, more out of delight than nervousness. I couldn't stop smiling because she really WAS leading me and getting me to move my body... in ways I had never done much less learned, and I had never felt anything like this. In dancing, I had always been the one in control, or at least trying to be in control. I was always required to think ahead, plan where to be, how to move my follow. As a lead I mostly had to 'talk' and my partner had to 'listen.' But with following, it's apparently 99% about feeling and listening.
So here I was, pressed tight against an amazing, captivating woman, and I was learning how to somehow get in touch with my feminine side. How ironic! :-)
Those fifteen minutes or so with Miriam flew by, and -- feeling both grateful and goofy -- I thanked her profusely.
---
One of my guy friends, who had led me earlier in the night, remarked that after my mini-lesson, I followed "tons better." All I know is that I still feel quite aglow from those few memorable moments with Miriam. There's something simply stunning about completely letting go and having a talented and confident (okay, and very attractive) dancer be responsible for how you move, even how you feel the music.
So I already love being a follow. But I'm equally inspired to boost my leading skills, so my follows can feel more of what I felt with Miriam. That, in my mind, is one of the ultimate rewards of dancing... achieving a connection that enables you and your partner to forget the rest of the world for even three minutes, lost in the music, lost in each other.
Sunday, August 10, 2003
What I have learned (and re-learned) from PiYo
I recently attended my second class in PiYo -- a strange but wonderful mixture of Pilates and Yoga.
Here is what I have learned and what I have been reminded of via my new PiYo journeys:
Stretching is not easy.
This is true in the literal and figurative sense.
From a physical standpoint, stretching is exhausting albeit rewarding work. When I attended my first PiYo class, I casually dropped into the session in my walking shorts and baggy t-shirt, and without a change of clothes. This wasn't like kickboxing, I smugly thought to myself!
Barely 20 minutes into the class, I became nearly suffocated on my sweaty and billowing shirt as I attempted to adopt artful but muscle-challenging poses. Building core strength is as intense as it is important!
Stretching isn't easy from a figurative point of view, either. When I was younger, I became accustomed to being the best at various things... piano, standardized tests, etc., and quickly abandoned anything that I could not easily excel at.
When I first attended Northwestern University, I was hit by the two-by-four of collective talent surrounding me, taunting me, painfully humbling me. And since then I've learned that I must be content to become Better without being Best... or suffer a very unfulfilling and painfully boring life.
---
Soon after I was laid off and right before my 30th birthday, I took up swing dancing. I sucked... badly. I had never delved into dancing before, or really any hobby that required such physical control, skillful balance, and social assertiveness. I almost quit several times, but for some reason, I did not.
I now have more friends, better posture, and, yes, a happier life because I stuck with swing dancing. In particular, I'm proud that I pushed through the challenges even though I knew (and still know) that I will never be a GREAT swing dancer. I will likely never win awards, never be "that dreamy lead" that women swoon over, and so on.
But I've gotten better and I continue to improve, and along with this, my self-confidence has soared. By stretching myself... my skills, my courage, and -- literally -- my body, I have actually become a better person.
---
A blank mind is a terribly hard thing to achieve
At the end of each PiYo session, our outstanding instructor has urged us to let our minds and bodies relax and float... free from cluttering thoughts and distractions.
This is much easier said than done. In a seemingly uncontrollable swirl, my mind chatters incessantly:
- Ooooo owwww rrrrrgh... that was hard! Whew!
- Hey, that hottie next to me is sure talented!
- I'm hungry, I wonder what I should make for lunch?
- OUT, damn thoughts! You're not supposed to be here. Shush!!!
- I wish they're turn down the music in the outer studio.
- Hey, our music sounds like Yanni. Yuck!
- I SAID NO MORE THINKING! QUIET!
- Hmm. It's really hard to be thought-free, isn't it?
- Yes, it is. Dang!
This got me to (ouch!) thinking some more afterwards. How do people successfully meditate? How can one affirmatively choose not to think... to be free, just for even one minute, from worries, ideas, curiosity, longing, and randomness?
I know it's possible. At least I hear it's possible.
I want to learn how not to think.
---
Face time is the great social lubricator
After my last PiYo class, I struck up a brief conversation with the talented and gorgeous woman next to me. Her last words were, "Keep coming. I'll see you next week!" and she smiled.
I think her encouragement was sincere, and I've learned firsthand that showing up really IS half the battle, not just for acquiring new skills, but for winning the trust and friendship of those around you.
In swing dancing, for instance, I've been increasingly asked to dance by some of the top dancers in the world. It's definitely not because of my looks (or lack thereof), nor due to any dramatic improvement in my dancing.
It's because I'm a regular, and these amazing dancers see my smiling face week after week. Familiarity apparently really does breed comfort.
Same thing for gym classes. Whereas some guys will blatantly bomb out hitting on women at the gym, I've surprisingly found that interesting and attractive women will come up to ME and even ask me for my e-mail address after they've seen me in class over the course of a few months.
Maybe this is not a great revelation. Perhaps I'm sounding especially superficial, especially in the context of an entry about the profound practice of yoga and Pilates.
But at least to me, such insights were not initially obvious. And I must admit to both surprise and gratefulness at the fact that I can stretch my body, my mind, my soul, and my social network all at the same time.
Life may not be easy, but it sure can be wonderful :-)
Here is what I have learned and what I have been reminded of via my new PiYo journeys:
Stretching is not easy.
This is true in the literal and figurative sense.
From a physical standpoint, stretching is exhausting albeit rewarding work. When I attended my first PiYo class, I casually dropped into the session in my walking shorts and baggy t-shirt, and without a change of clothes. This wasn't like kickboxing, I smugly thought to myself!
Barely 20 minutes into the class, I became nearly suffocated on my sweaty and billowing shirt as I attempted to adopt artful but muscle-challenging poses. Building core strength is as intense as it is important!
Stretching isn't easy from a figurative point of view, either. When I was younger, I became accustomed to being the best at various things... piano, standardized tests, etc., and quickly abandoned anything that I could not easily excel at.
When I first attended Northwestern University, I was hit by the two-by-four of collective talent surrounding me, taunting me, painfully humbling me. And since then I've learned that I must be content to become Better without being Best... or suffer a very unfulfilling and painfully boring life.
---
Soon after I was laid off and right before my 30th birthday, I took up swing dancing. I sucked... badly. I had never delved into dancing before, or really any hobby that required such physical control, skillful balance, and social assertiveness. I almost quit several times, but for some reason, I did not.
I now have more friends, better posture, and, yes, a happier life because I stuck with swing dancing. In particular, I'm proud that I pushed through the challenges even though I knew (and still know) that I will never be a GREAT swing dancer. I will likely never win awards, never be "that dreamy lead" that women swoon over, and so on.
But I've gotten better and I continue to improve, and along with this, my self-confidence has soared. By stretching myself... my skills, my courage, and -- literally -- my body, I have actually become a better person.
---
A blank mind is a terribly hard thing to achieve
At the end of each PiYo session, our outstanding instructor has urged us to let our minds and bodies relax and float... free from cluttering thoughts and distractions.
This is much easier said than done. In a seemingly uncontrollable swirl, my mind chatters incessantly:
- Ooooo owwww rrrrrgh... that was hard! Whew!
- Hey, that hottie next to me is sure talented!
- I'm hungry, I wonder what I should make for lunch?
- OUT, damn thoughts! You're not supposed to be here. Shush!!!
- I wish they're turn down the music in the outer studio.
- Hey, our music sounds like Yanni. Yuck!
- I SAID NO MORE THINKING! QUIET!
- Hmm. It's really hard to be thought-free, isn't it?
- Yes, it is. Dang!
This got me to (ouch!) thinking some more afterwards. How do people successfully meditate? How can one affirmatively choose not to think... to be free, just for even one minute, from worries, ideas, curiosity, longing, and randomness?
I know it's possible. At least I hear it's possible.
I want to learn how not to think.
---
Face time is the great social lubricator
After my last PiYo class, I struck up a brief conversation with the talented and gorgeous woman next to me. Her last words were, "Keep coming. I'll see you next week!" and she smiled.
I think her encouragement was sincere, and I've learned firsthand that showing up really IS half the battle, not just for acquiring new skills, but for winning the trust and friendship of those around you.
In swing dancing, for instance, I've been increasingly asked to dance by some of the top dancers in the world. It's definitely not because of my looks (or lack thereof), nor due to any dramatic improvement in my dancing.
It's because I'm a regular, and these amazing dancers see my smiling face week after week. Familiarity apparently really does breed comfort.
Same thing for gym classes. Whereas some guys will blatantly bomb out hitting on women at the gym, I've surprisingly found that interesting and attractive women will come up to ME and even ask me for my e-mail address after they've seen me in class over the course of a few months.
Maybe this is not a great revelation. Perhaps I'm sounding especially superficial, especially in the context of an entry about the profound practice of yoga and Pilates.
But at least to me, such insights were not initially obvious. And I must admit to both surprise and gratefulness at the fact that I can stretch my body, my mind, my soul, and my social network all at the same time.
Life may not be easy, but it sure can be wonderful :-)
Sunday, July 13, 2003
A spring in her step! :)
Rachel gets an impressive lift from partner Nate during a well-received Lindy Hop routine performed at the Ariel Dance Center Showcase and Competition on July 13, 2003 in San Jose, California.
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