The Dance

Centuries ago in a land far, far, away, I used to love to dance.  It was a way to express myself, great exercise, and was always a good way to meet woman.   It was also a way to sort of “live inside” the music that I loved so much.  I fashioned myself a good dancer.  The girls all said I was.  Of course I have been told that the female of the species sometimes will flatter the male.  Also, I was usually full of beer or some other liquid intoxicant.

One night my best pal at the time, and that means the friend who liked to drink and party the most, called and said his new girl friend wouldn’t let him go out and play.  Like any self-respecting man of my era, I went out alone.  I sat on a bar stool in a large bar (saloon) that I had been to before.  I was enjoying my Canadian Moosehead beer, listening to a great rock band, and watching the dancers out on the floor.  I especially couldn’t help noticing one lovely dancer.  I also noticed she and her girl friend had a table only ten feet from me.  Not a long walk, so it should produce a fairly small amount of embarrassment if she decided to “send me home” if (when) I asked her to dance.  In dance bars, women hold all of the power.  The question I had to ask myself was…is she worth taking “the walk”?   I decided yes.

We had two quick dances together and it seemed as if we were in a dream.  I had never before danced with a woman who was this good at it.  This surely had to be a Hollywood script.  I was happy that my earlier (in the evening) uncharacteristic shyness did not prevent me from taking “the walk”.

I was now sitting at her table and the band proceeded to announce that they would hold a dance contest.  Starting now!  Anyone in this enormous crowd could participate.  I tried not to look at my newly found dance partner.  I mean, I liked to dance but I was in no way intoxicated enough to enter a contest in front of hundreds of people.  I felt the tug on my arm.  I gulped a large drink of beer!  My answer was of course that “I would love to enter the contest”.  Is there anything that a man won’t do for a lovely lady?

The rules were that you could dance in any style.  There would be some fast dances and some slow.  The band would determine the couples that would sit down after the first two dances, and the crowd would decide the rest.  Not exactly scientific, but logical.  I finished my beer.

For the next 10 or 12 songs my life was a blur.  No it wasn’t the beer, and it wasn’t the music, it was the girl.  In between dances I wondered where this young woman had been all of my life.  Slow dance, fast dance. We were poetry together.

This is the part when I would normally bring you back to the planet earth, but the truth is that yes, we did win.   I gave her the trophy and I accepted the free case of beer.  I had my priorities straight.  We exchanged telephone numbers and said we would talk.  We never saw (or spoke) to each other again. This night was prophetic (for both I hope) and was a lesson for the future.  My future and hers, but not ours.  The memory of being a “dance star” has never left me.  While the years have faded into the past and I soon forgot my partner’s name,  I have always been grateful to the pretty lady who said yes to a simple dance.  We both ended that evening as champions

There is a lesson to be learned in every day of life.  My dance lesson moved me forward so that I could go on to lead photo workshops and speak in front of audiences.  It taught me just how quickly great moments are over.  I learned to grab hold of as many moments as possible.

When your time comes to join in the dance, take it.  Sometimes one dance can change a life.

Welcome To The Dance

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3 Responses to The Dance

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