adamyntium

Category: dancing

  • Misery, snarkiness, and an unexpected apology

    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:


    […] 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). […]

    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.

    —

    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 😉

  • 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

  • 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:

    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.

  • 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 🙂

  • Swing dance, go to jail

    Water-swilling swing dancers… threat to a moral and orderly society. They Must Be Stopped!

    Or so goes the thinking of some pretty aggressive Salt Lake City law enforcement officials, as noticed by this (verified) forward:

    In Salt Lake City, during the 2003 Utah Lindy Exchange, the organizer Nate Landon was “Arrested” at 3 am for violating a little known City Ordinance that Prohibits dancing between 2 and 8 am. He was issued two misdemeanor citations for No business license, and dancing after 2. The Police broke up the dance, and yelled at all 50 participants to vacate the building, or everyone was going to jail. We are working on getting rid of this ordinance – but be sure you check out your own city ordinances before hosting an after hours dance. Nate rented a Dance Studio, and they knew he was going to be hosting the dance from midnight to 4 am, and even they were not aware of this dance ordinance.

    – Pam Genovesi (Salt Lake City, 2003) (as reported via the no-doubt-equally-culpable www.lindyexchange.com)

  • Happy feet

    My Lindy Hop (swing dance) birthday jam, which included a dance with Sharon Ashe (of Paul and Sharon)
    This past Thursday was the beginning of my birthday weekend, or more specifically, the celebration time of my Bodaciously Binary Birthday (#100000).

    It began with a birthday jam for me (and other b-day boys and girls) at the 9:20 Special, a very popular weekly local swing dance event.

    In this fun photo — taken by Darren Holloway — I’m dancing with the amazing Sharon Ashe, of the highly respected swing dance instructor couple Paul and Sharon. These two have done quite a bit to spread Lindy Hop skillz and love around the world. As you can imagine, it’s a bit intimidating, but a thrill nonetheless to dance with her 😀

    As if dancing with Sharon was not enough, as part of my birthday jam I had the distinct pleasure of dancing with nearly a dozen other talented and attractive women over the course of a song… as well as the opportunity to dance with a couple of very talented guys who braved following with me 😀

    I still have two more jams to go this weekend, along with a couple of birthday meals and an ice skating outing. Yeah, yeah, I know, it may seem a little obnoxious to extend my birthday out like this, but hey, I’m still a kid at heart. Sometimes more really is better. 😀

  • Lindy Hop Heaven

    Take a moment to destress and check out this contagiously happy and definitely talented jazz quintet: Peter Davis and Lindy Hop Heaven. One of my friends introduced me to this group and loaned me their CD, and I haven’t stopped smiling since.

    You can hear a few clips on their Web page, and I’ve also encoded a full-length sample here of their signature “Lindy Hop Heaven” song, which should stream pleasantly (RealAudio Player required) whether you’re on dialup or DSL. Enjoy!

    Updated on 4/30/04:
    Alas, I’ve lost access to a RealAudio server, and haven’t had time to re-encode the songs on my site. My apologies!

  • Dancing to hateful lyrics?

    I was chatting with a former swing dancer yesterday, and I was a bit shocked when she explained one of the main reasons she quit dancing.

    “I couldn’t believe people were dancing to songs like ‘Violent Love’ and ‘Christopher Columbus’ without thinking!” she commented disdainfully.

    In a way, I could see her point. Especially in ?ber-politically-correct San Francisco, it DOES seem surprising that a largely self-proclaimed-liberal crowd wouldn’t even flinch at dancing with songs that seemingly make light of or even glorify rape or white oppressors.

    I say this only partially tongue-in-cheek, really. On one hand, I consider myself a liberal by almost any standard… but in San Francisco, I’d probably more accurately be seen as a moderate-conservative kinda guy. But even I have to admit the irony in dancing to many of the same songs every week and not giving one iota of a thought to the lyrics that I’m dancingly-intepreting.

    When chatting with the woman quoted above, I politely noted that the songs in question were mostly penned in a much different, earlier time. Back then, I argued, in literature and music and so on, words that’d be understandably offensive by today’s standards (like “negro”) and sentiments that’d seem old-fashioned at best today (like male dominance in the workplace and in the bedroom) were then viewed as inoffensive. Trying to interpret the songs out of their historical context, I suggested, wasn’t very useful or even important.

    This didn’t convince her, however. She replied that, “Well, there’s nothing saying we have to play those songs today!”

    I’m still not so sure. I listen to Wagner even though he was disgustingly anti-semitic. And more relevantly, I still get a kick out of songs from old musicals that — while clearly misogynistic — are still a lot of fun to hum 🙂

    My love for the music — taken apart from its writer and lyrics — may seem nonsensical to some, but as a musician and a dancer, I feel comfortable isolating and enjoying it.

    What do you think? Should older songs with racist/misogynistic/downright offensive lyrics still be played? Do we have at least an obligation to THINK about what we’re humming or dancing to? At what point does the de-contextualizing of our art stop making sense?

  • I have Al Gore disease, and I want to find a cure

    On the piano, I can play a song such as Mary Had a Little Lamb:
    – in any key
    – at any tempo
    – in almost any style (waltz, tango, jazz, whatever)
    – combined with anything else
    – even blindfolded.

    I have been known to beautifully blitz through Chopin’s quite challenging Black Key Etude. I can play Mendelsohn and Muppets with equal aplomb. In short, as a pianist I’m accomplished, creative, and fun.

    All of this is of no value, however, in curing my bad case of Al Gore disease on the dance floor.

    Excepting Mr. Gore’s recently redemptive and actually laugh-inducing hosting of Saturday Night Live, the guy’s certainly not known for a warm and creative sense of humor.

    Same with me on the dance floor.

    I suffer from Al Gore disease.

    Intellectually, I know what’s what. I can count to 8. Even higher if necessary.

    I know enough not to be a health hazard on the dance floor, but I lack the creative wit to do pretty much anything other than what I’ve been specifically taught to do. Step here, move here, and so on.

    I watch people like Elliott and Dave and Cianna and I think… they’re so fun, so funny, so wildly goofy and creative yet grounded… why can’t I be like that? Why isn’t my brain wired in that way?

    Some say, Adam, be patient… practice… keep taking classes.

    But that’s not it.

    The folks who “got it” have never needed classes to shine. You can’t teach someone, IMHO, to be intuitively clever and inventive.

    I’m similarly skeptical about the same issue in creative writing and in music. You can teach people what NOT to do (avoid bad grammar, don’t use lots of tritones in a lullaby), but how the hell can you teach someone to be spontaneous, to think up something no one has ever done before?

    I don’t think it’s possible.

    Over time, perhaps I can lick my bad case of Al Gore Disease by learning hundreds-enough moves and patterns and then methodically, almost mathematically putting them together and practicing them at home. To the casual follow then, I may appear spontaneous, maybe even fun.

    That is, until that person dances with me again that night, and notices hmmm… isn’t that similar to what he did last time?

    My follow friends reassure me that most follows don’t or even can’t remember what a particular lead did in their last dance, and so while we may feel painfully boring, they’re not necessarily all that bored with us.

    Still, I can’t help but admire and envy those leads for whom every dance is fresh, new, different, and exploratory. They’re not counting, they’re not memorizing, they’re just feeling and moving.

    Damn, I wish I could do that.

  • My allegorical speed date with a supermodel

    ME: Hi there, would you like to go out on a date with me?

    SM: Sure!

    [Date begins]

    ME: So, uh, how are you doing?

    SM: Great! Just jetted in from Paris, learned some more French, bought this great new dress, had some drinks with Chirac, you know, same ol’ same ol’. How about you?

    ME: Um, I ate some wheaties this morning. I took a shower. And, uh, yeah.

    SM: [Flirtatiously whispers something in French]

    ME: [Smiles nervously]

    SM: Hey, watch this! [flawlessly juggles silverware and an Asian pear]

    ME: Whoa! [pathetically demonstrates patting head and rubbing stomach simultaneously]

    SM: [Growing impatient, grabs me in a sexy embrace]

    ME: [Trips over feet and falls on the floor]

    SM: [Sighing]. So, hmm, let’s talk about music! I was listening to this great recording yesterday…

    ME: Ah, I burned this kick-ass Moby mix yesterday!

    SM: Whoops! Looks like it’s time to move on! Thanks for a splendid time, uh, see ya around.

    ME: [D’oh!]

    * * *

    What really happened:

    FRIEND: [Sweating bullets, stumbling off the dance floor] Whoa! Were you just dancing that 20 minute song, too?

    ME: [Also exhausted] Yeah, with Julia [attractive and famous dancer on performing tour from Europe]

    FRIEND: [Making universal oh-shit, I feel for ya expression] Oh man!

    * * *

    Bottom line: Julia’s one of the best dancers around (and a sweetheart, too!). However, I was cringing just feeling her politely masked but nonetheless undoubtedly intense boredom dancing with me. Why? I’ll get into that in another entry soon.