Saturday, December 29, 2007

Slow, slow, quick, quick

At some point in my life I might want to learn to dance with a man.
I cannot for the life of me figure out how this is done.

It's happened a few times that I can remember. My problem is that my ability to dance with a man seems to entirely depend on the man.

AG is a brilliant dancer who can make anyone look like a total star.
PR makes dance into a fabulous and deranged athletic event.
Dancing with BC was pure chemistry without words.

And there was a swing dance savant I met at a wedding. He was tall and delicious and he made up these fantastic moves on the fly that I had never followed before and have not since. After three songs we stepped breathlessly off the dance floor and parted company because we had each come to this wedding with other people.

In swing dance, I don't know the steps but I can follow a good lead, meaning that he and I are in agreement as to where the beats fall.

In a more "modern" setting it pretty much doesn't seem to work. I know it's just a full contact sport in which you try to fit body parts together and move. Sounds simple, but I can't seem to get the hang of it.

I think, again, it's a disagreement about where the beats fall.

I don't follow properly. I have too many of my own ideas about how the music feels and how we should move in a situation in which the music is really not supposed to matter at all. But if that is true, I wouldn't really call it dancing.

Then again, maybe it's not me. After all I hear that it takes two to tango.

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