Saturday, September 25, 2010

Dancing With The Stars

We are a bit apprehensive about attending the barn dance tonight.

First of all, it is a pot luck supper as well, our first on the island, and we are worried that our store-bought cheese twists might look store-bought. I've spent hours in the local grocery store trying to devise a plan whereby I wouldn't be exposed for the home-cooking-poser I am, but I couldn't think of anything to cook. At home I'd buy Sam's meatballs and cover them with Bertolli Pasta Sauce and just smile quietly if people said they liked it. (Once I was asked for my recipe, and before I could answer, the woman said she'd trade me her grandmother's brownie recipe for my meatball recipe. I agreed, of course, and typed up my recipe mentioning Sam's meatballs, etc., but feel pretty bad about it sometimes, especially when the moon is full.) Anyway, I am repackaging the cheese twists in the plastic bowl a salad came in, and I think I might get away with it. I'll try not to mention the war.

But more importantly, we are apprehensive about Ceilidh dancing. It is not only hard to pronounce (KAY-lee) and spell, but it seems it may also be terribly difficult to do, what with the men twirling their partners around and around until the ladies' feet leave the floor.  We've been watching YouTube clips of people who are really good Ceilidh dancers, hoping to pick up a few tips, and our fondest hope is that these people do not attend tonight.

We also feel we've a great deal riding on our performance tonight. We gave Sequence Dancing a shot and failed miserably, and we think our failure was a bad reflection on America. In our defense we didn't know we were trying Sequence Dancing. The event we attended advertised as “Dancing For All Abilities.” To you and me that means “dancing for all abilities,” but here on the Isle of Man is means “Sequence Dancing That You Competed In As A Child And Still Want To Enjoy With Other Serious And Former Competitors.”

I had never heard of Sequence Dancing before last week, but it is BIG here, in England, in Australia, in New Zealand. And it looks oh, so fun. Couples dance in a circle moving counter-clockwise around the floor in predetermined movements. That means when the man takes his partner's right hand and twirls her, all the men take their partners' right hands and twirl them.  Not to do this means you've made a mistake and calls into question, in my mind, the bit about "dancing for all abilities." 

Do Not Attempt This At Home
Sequence Dancing For
 All Abilities












So there we were, thinking we were in the “all abilities” category which obviously we were not.  But when they finally announced waltzing, we stood. Yes, we could do this! And we did, with as many flourishes as we could add, too, to show them that these Americans are not strangers to the waltz.

The very nice couple in charge offered to have us come to a lesson the following evening, and we did. We arrived a bit early and sat in on a children's dance class. To explain our presence, the instructor's husband announced to the children, “This is a couple who has come all the way from America to see you dance. So do your best!” There is nothing like having an audience to get the adrenaline going, and these kids began racing around the floor to the corner where we sat. They stayed there, dancing for us, until they were “nudged” along by the next couple. We were as amazed at their ability as we were worried that their feet would find a purchase on ours. We smiled and smiled as they glided by, and they smiled back enthusiastically. It was tremendous fun.

A Quick Glance To Our Corner
Another Accomplished Couple















Our lesson following the children's class turned out to be a private lesson. The teacher said we should start with the waltz. I countered, “But we already know how to waltz.” “Yes,” she smiled graciously, “but we do not do a pivot here.” “But we learned to waltz in Vienna,” I added helpfully. “Yes, I could tell.” And then it hit me. Our waltzing was wrong. We had to forget everything we had learned in Vienna and begin again, this time with no pivot.  Oh dear.

We did our best. We really did. But it is hard to teach old dogs, etc., etc., and when we appeared 6 nights later at the big event, we had forgotten every dance she had taught us. We are sorry, America, and we hope that our homemade cheese twists and our attempts at Ceilidh dancing tonight will do a little to rebuild the damage we've done here. If not, I'm going to have to resort to my Australian accent for the remainder of our time on the island and travel incognito.



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