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MYSTERY OF THE
TEXAS TWOSTEP
CHAPTER SEVENTY
SIX:
SWEETHEART OF THE RODEO
Written by Rick
Archer
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limbo month
thirteen
JULY 1980
BROKEN HEARTS
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Victoria made her official debut as a Western instructor on
Wednesday, July 9. How did I feel about that?
Fatalistic. July was the
one-year anniversary of Limbo. At the rate we were
going, it was the first of many anniversaries.
Throughout June, I had been besieged with female admirers.
I could not turn sideways without some woman asking me to
dance. If it had not been for buddies like Chuck, Doug
and Bob to play bodyguard, I risked death from dance exhaustion. I suppose I
could have learned to say "No, not right now", but I
loved the attention too much. And
yet at the same time, I secretly wished for a face-saving
way to reduce my popularity at least somewhat.
There's an old saying, "Be careful what you wish for." Wouldn't you know it? I got my wish, except not quite
the way I hoped for. Overnight my popularity plummeted
to Zero. Why? Because the Sheriff was back in
town. Do you recall who uttered these famous words?
"I
decided I need to start sharing myself with the world
more often."
It turned out Victoria meant what she said. During my
hospital stay, Victoria had saved the day by substitute
teaching every night for the first week of June.
Victoria had so much fun she decided she was ready to begin
teaching Country-Western. I needed another teacher for
Wednesday starting in July, so I said okay. I met with
Victoria every Tuesday in June before her 7 pm Disco class
and taught her how to the teach the Leads for Twostep and
Polka patterns including the difficult Circle Turns.
Victoria announced she was ready.
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My
Western dance classes were so popular with TGIS that I had a
new class starting every month. I had a May TGIS class on Monday, a June TGIS
class on Thursday, plus my original April TGIS class on
Wednesday was still going strong. This was the class
with Chuck and Doug. July marked my fourth month with
this energetic group. Due to constant practice, over
the past three months the students in this class had become
superior Western dancers.
Tonight marked the first time I had two TGIS classes on the
same night. At 7 pm I taught my Intermediate TGIS in the Main
Ballroom while Victoria taught a Beginning TGIS class in a side room. Based on the raucous laughter coming from
Victoria's room, things were going very well. I was
happy for Victoria. It was good to see the
reappearance of her long-absent Sunshine personality.
Apparently her therapy work with Charlotte was paying off.
If Victoria continued to make this kind of progress, I hoped
she would be ready to set me free.
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Every Wednesday night following favorite TGIS class, I made
my ritual visit to Cowboy with the Western
Core Group. However, tonight things would be
different. That is because Victoria had a surprise for
me. Just as I was wrapping things up at 8 pm, the door
to Victoria's room popped open. Victoria led her
entire class onto the large floor in the Main Ballroom.
With her class side by side with mine, there were over 100
people watching when Victoria addressed the crowd.
"Hey, everybody, I
just wanted to introduce myself. I am Victoria, Rick's girlfriend! How
y'all doin' tonight?"
With that, Victoria planted a big wet kiss on my cheek
complete with sound effects. Apparently she had
recently applied lipstick because there was a giant red
smooch mark for everyone to see. Well aware that
Victoria had just marked her claim, a pronounced gasp shot
through the room followed by stunned silence.
Victoria was not done yet.
"Listen
up, everybody." With a nod to the 50 or so members
of her class, Victoria said, "These students are my new
Beginning TGIS class." Having identified them,
Victoria turned to speak directly to my class.
"Some of my students want to join you for dancing at
Cowboy tonight. I have to get home to my
babysitter, so I can't go along. That is why I'm
counting on you hotshots to take good care of my
inexperienced newcomers."
Victoria smiled warmly and made eye contact with several
people from my class, then continued. "I want you
ladies to ask my Beginner men to dance and be sweet to them
when they make mistakes. As for you men, I want you to
ask my ladies to dance and please go easy on them. No
fancy moves! It's their first night, right? And
I'll see y'all next week!"
With a big wave goodbye, Victoria turned and promptly walked
out the front door without another word. Thanks to
Victoria's brazen display, the
room was in a state of suspended animation. All
they did was stare at me and wonder where in the world did this woman
come from. As for me, I was totally shaken by
Victoria's dramatic performance. How do you follow an
act like that? I lamely announced it was time to head
over to Cowboy and left it there. At
that, everyone silently left the room.
I
made sure to wipe off Victoria's lipstick before I reached
Cowboy, but it made no difference. To my
dismay, the pretty girls who typically swooned over me could
have cared less. Ordinarily they swarmed me for the
next dance... "my turn, my turn!"
Not tonight.
Typically these girls asked me to dance, but tonight I had
to do the asking. That was my first clue. My
second clue was getting turned down a couple times.
Whoa, that had never happened before. My third clue
came when the girls who did accept my offer were chilly and
formal as we danced. Normally they were excited to
dance with me, now they were aloof.
This change in demeanor irritated me. I missed their
fawning attention. So Victoria kissed me.
Big deal. I was still friends with everyone.
Guess again. Apparently not with these girls.
Victoria had placed some kind of invisible stigma on me.
The women avoided me all night long like I was radioactive.
Finally I couldn't take it anymore, so I asked Chuck for his
opinion.
Chuck solved the mystery in a flash.
"You broke their
hearts, you cad!!"
Huh? I stared at Chuck for signs of teasing, but he
kept a straight face.
"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything
wrong!"
"Oh, yes, you have!
You let that woman drop a bomb on us. Incidentally, who is Victoria?"
I had not anticipated this consequence to
Victoria's re-emergence. Victoria's surprise
appearance as the alternate TGIS teacher had instantly solved the
mystery of why I never made a move on any of the pretty
girls. This was a crushing blow. Oh damn, back
to Square One. Victoria had
just ruined several months worth of serious flirting! I had my
eye on some of those girls who were turning me down tonight.
I had to hand it to Victoria. In one fell swoop, she
had eliminated virtually my entire list of the women I wanted to date.
Meanwhile
Chuck had a field day teasing me about all the fantasies Victoria's arrival had ruined with her sudden
appearance. Sick and tired of listening to him, I went
home early. I was in a very bad mood.
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Now that the cat was out of the bag, I slipped into a deep
funk. Still irritated by my unexpected rejection, I
skipped dancing with the Blazers the following Saturday night. The next
day, Sunday afternoon, I got a call at home. It was
Chuck. After confirming I was coming to volleyball, he
proceeded to bring up a sore subject.
"Oh my God, Rick, what have you done?
Service with the Seekers today was worse
than a funeral. Ten boxes of Kleenex died during
today's meeting thanks to you breaking
their hearts! Boo hoo hoo, water all over the floor!
Gee whiz, Rick, I had to get a mop!"
Thanks a lot. I needed sympathy, not sarcasm.
Chuck was no help. In fact, he could not stop gushing
on and on about Victoria. For the life of him, Chuck
could not get over how good-looking Victoria was.
"Damn, Rick, where
did your new girlfriend come from? You never told
me you were dating someone. She's a babe!
That girl needs to be in Playboy!"
"Oh, shut up, she's not my girlfriend."
"Well, then, who is
she? That woman just cost you the hearts of every
girl in our Young Singles club."
"It's a long story, Chuck. Maybe another time.
Hey, I have a question. Back in June when I was in the
hospital, why didn't you meet Victoria then? She said
she was at the studio every night that week."
"I never saw her
and I would have noticed. Your friend Bob taught
the TGIS class. Maybe Victoria was with the other
class in the side room that night."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Oh well, there goes my fan
club."
"I don't get it,
Rick. You sound like you don't want her."
With a snort, I replied, "You're right, I don't want her."
Chuck let out a low whistle. "Are you serious?
You two aren't getting along? Gee, can I have her?"
"Oh, go to hell. Yes, you can have her. Be my
guest."
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Victoria made her debut on Wednesday, July 9. My
Western dance classes were so popular with TGIS that I had a
new class starting every month. I had a May TGIS class on Monday, a June TGIS
class on Thursday, plus my original April TGIS class on
Wednesday was still going strong. This was the class
with Chuck and Doug. July marked my fourth month with
this energetic group. Due to constant practice, over
the past three months the students in this class had become
superior Western dancers.
Tonight marked the first time I had two TGIS classes on the
same night. At 7 pm I taught my Intermediate TGIS in the Main
Ballroom while Victoria taught a Beginning TGIS class in a side room. Based on the raucous laughter coming from
Victoria's room, things were going very well. I was
happy for Victoria. It was good to see the
reappearance of her long-absent Sunshine personality.
Apparently her therapy work with Charlotte was paying off.
If Victoria continued to make this kind of progress, I hoped
she would be ready to set me free.
Irritated, I hung up. I just wanted to gag.
During this ridiculous Limbo Captivity stage
of my life, I had only my fantasies to sustain me.
Whenever I went dancing, I held secret auditions for
Victoria's replacement. Of course my
various lady dance partners were unaware, but I was
discretely evaluating them to become the next Jennifer.
So far none of them had separated themselves from the field,
but there were some strong candidates. As soon as I
received freedom from my Limbo chains, I knew
who my Top Three were. However, now that Victoria had
put an end to my dreams, those days were over. Remind me
to strangle those two dentists.
Victoria was no dummy. During Hospital Week, I suppose
she had been alarmed by the countless pretty faces in my
classes. Every single woman struck her as a potential
threat to steal her honeybunch away. Here's the thing
about Victoria. The woman thrived on challenge.
Victoria only wanted what she didn't have. Whenever
she had me in her clutches, Victoria paid me no attention.
But if an unusually attractive woman showed interest,
Victoria responded like antibodies to bacteria. I concluded one of Victoria's supreme joys
in life was competing with other women for desirable men...
and winning.
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With a sigh, I resigned myself to the bad news. I knew
why I was getting the cold shoulder from my former admirers.
I also knew why Victoria was suddenly interested in me again.
Since Victoria was clever enough to suspect some of these
C&W gals might have a crush, predictably she decided to keep
me around after all.
Actually I was used to this. Back in the days of
Disco, Victoria had never shown a whiff of interest in me.
Then one day my stunning girlfriend Patricia showed up.
Startled to see a woman of Patricia's beauty at my side,
Victoria stood up and paid attention. Practically
overnight Victoria began to act possessive towards me.
I was convinced it was all about competition.
"If a looker
like Patricia is interested in Rick, then I am too."
Patricia
immediately figured out what Victoria was up to.
"If a
babe like Victoria is interested, maybe Rick has more on
the ball than I first realized."
Then Joanne came
along to raise the ante. She wanted me too. I
honestly believe it was the interaction between three women
that caused Victoria to flip her lid last year. And
look at the price she paid.
Now the cycle
was starting over.
In order to reclaim her rightful
position, Victoria had dusted off that sassy personality
that had once made her the Supreme Diva of Disco. Now
that she had marked her claim, any woman with eyes could see it
was hopeless to compete against a dominant Alpha like
Victoria. One year of Limbo and counting. This
could go on forever.
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SATURDAY NIGHT,
JULY 12, 1980
SWEETHEART OF THE
RODEO
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Who am I to say what went through the devious mind of Queen
Victoria? I am not a mind reader, but I think I knew her well enough to
make some educated guesses. The moment Victoria
realized the Western Scene was not as bad as she thought it
was, all sorts of light bulbs turned on. Popularity
was not limited to the Disco arena. What would be
the western equivalent to Supreme Diva of Disco?
Sweetheart of the
Rodeo!
The fastest way to achieve that goal was to
hitch a ride on Rick's stagecoach.
While she was at it, why not make sure there were no new
Madame X's lurking around. After all, the odds
suggested another potential Madame X in one of those C&W
classes. Victoria had dashed the hopes of my Wednesday
girlfriends, but what about the other nights?
Victoria had a
secret plan.
When
Victoria taught her Disco class the previous Tuesday in the side room,
she had overheard me tell my Tuesday class that I was skipping
Cowboy tonight, but I would definitely see
them at Cowboy this coming Saturday.
That's all Victoria needed to know to plan her ambush.
By showing up unannounced, she could see who I was chasing.
I was dancing at
Cowboy with Pamela, one of my former
admirers, when Victoria appeared. She walked up to the
railing and waved as we went by. Startled, I nearly
tripped. At the end of the song, I went to see what
she was doing here. This was first time Victoria had
ever gone Western dancing.
"Aren't you happy
to see me? Michael decided to keep Stephanie for
the weekend at his place. I miss dancing with you.
I also want to begin seeing more of you.
So here I am!"
I
was less than thrilled to see Victoria invade my refuge.
I glumly noted she looked really good tonight. I
suppose when Victoria decided the world needed to see more
of her beauty, she had been serious. As I led Victoria
through the club, Victoria was amazed at just how attractive
Cowboy was. When I saw her study the
fancy Western
outfits the girls were wearing, I thought of Bob's quip
about the 'going out of business dress sale on the
Titanic.'
I could just see
Victoria. "Um, officer, just how long do we have
before the Titanic goes under?"
Victoria liked the clothes, she liked the music, and the
dancing was more fun than she previously realized.
A recurring dark thought crossed my mind. The moment she
realized I was finally making enough money to support her, I
might never get rid of her.
Victoria's decision to join me at
Cowboy led
to one of the strangest nights in memory. Since she
didn't know anyone, I expected Victoria would just tag along
wherever I went. Quite the contrary. Victoria
surprised me by taking control. Looping her arm
through mine, you should have seen her strut through the
club. Acting like she owned the place, she augmented
her grand entrance by walking confidently to where my
friends were sitting. In a loud voice, Victoria said,
"Rick, please introduce me to your friends!"
Chuck immediately raised his hand. "Me first!" I
gave him the look of death.
Victoria did not know a single soul by name, but she
recognized some of the TGIS students from Wednesday.
Holding my hand, we went from person to person, table to
table. Victoria shook hands, greeted people, dispensed
compliments on outfits she liked, the works. It was
the Days of Camelot all over again. Victoria never
left my side the entire night. If a woman happened to
glance my way, Victoria made sure to become affectionate.
Nor was she subtle. I was covered in lipstick all
night long. But why stop there? Sometimes Victoria
would brush my hair. Other times
she would casually rub up against me. But that
was nothing compared to her statement gesture.
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Just in case some potential Madame X had missed the message,
Victoria decided to let the world know the sheriff was here
to clean up the town. Without warning, Victoria
hopped up in my lap. Nor did she stop there. For
good measure, Victoria wrapped her arm around me.
Judging by the somber faces of the female witnesses, Victoria
had dashed any remaining hope. Not only that, I
estimated another year of Limbo
for every minute she stayed there. I counted four
minutes. It was definitely a command performance.
Victoria treated me like her steady boyfriend all night
long. She was the only woman I danced with, the
significance of which was not lost on keen observers.
It was a wonderful act. People were convinced we were
special. Gone was the Supreme Diva of Disco;
introducing the Sweetheart of the Rodeo.
Victoria was full of surprises. For the first time
this year, she invited me to follow her home. Amazing
what a night of dancing will do for a woman's mood. It
wasn't love, but it was better than it had been last
Christmas. As I drove home in the
wee hours, I added three more years to my four year Limbo estimate.
So all this sounds very charming, yes? After all, what
man would not want to be associated with such an outgoing,
stunning woman? Well, I had mixed feelings. I
had to admit I enjoyed her company. And if it was true
that Sunshine Victoria had returned, maybe there was a
future for us after all. However, I could not trust Victoria.
We had been in this exact same place a year ago.
Victoria had promised she was ready to commit to me shortly
before leaving for a July 4th trip home. When she
returned, Victoria had developed a serious case of Cold
Feet. What was stopping her from pulling a similar
stunt again?
Plus the sad faces on my
former admirers was tough to take. While Chuck and
Doug had unfettered access to the henhouse, I stayed chained
to my tormentor all night long. Who cares if Victoria
is beautiful? Who cares if she's popular? I want
my freedom back!
I
was not particularly happy about Victoria's decision to
increase her role at the studio, but I will say it was nice
timing. Now that the movie was out, there was a surge
in demand for more classes, so Victoria got her wish to
become a Western instructor two nights a week.
Still housebound much of the time for fear of losing
custody, Victoria did not have the freedom or inclination to
dominate the realm of Rodeo Romance as she once did Camelot.
Forced to limit her appearances, she joined me for a night
of dancing now and then, just enough to keep the competition
at bay. Although Victoria never quite regained
the supernova popularity she once enjoyed as the Disco
Queen, she did make a new set of girlfriends.
This led to a truly exasperating situation. One night
I was stunned to overhear Victoria talking to a couple of
women about her marriage. First Victoria let it be
known that she was married, but separated. That in
itself would not have been a problem except that she spoke
warmly of 'my husband'. To my consternation,
she did not say 'Michael' or 'my former husband',
mind you, but rather she emphasized 'my husband',
present tense.
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That was just the start. Standing nearby, my jaw
dropped as Victoria proceeded to sing praises of Michael.
Yes, believe it or not, she did this within earshot of me,
not even giving it a second thought. Victoria was so
effusive in her compliments, for a moment there I thought
she had brought her infamous Husband List
along to make sure she didn't overlook a single virtue of 'my
husband Michael'. One year ago Victoria had
compared me to Michael on seven key categories. I had
come up short on every criterion. So here she was
singing the same praises despite the fact that Michael had
filed for divorce. Even stranger, Victoria talked as
if the two of them had a future. This was pathetic.
First she chases my potential girlfriends away, then she
turns around and talks to some of my former admirers about
how wonderful her separated husband is. I shook my
head in despair. What is with this woman?
So I was jealous, right? No, not really. Just
irritated. I was still mad that Victoria had chased
off my groupies. Plus I was angry that Victoria
refused to set me free when it was clear the woman's heart
still belonged to Michael whether she knew it or not.
Victoria was a hypocrite for the ages. In private she
gushed about her undying love for me, but in public she sang
a different tune. As usual, I was her peon, Victoria's
'glorified escort in perpetuity'.
So was anyone in my group of friends confused? Yes. Every one
of them! But
no one dared probe. No one, that is, except Chuck.
No surprise there. Chuck was the master of
inappropriate remarks. He was the only one in the
Seekers group uncivilized enough to give voice to
his curiosity. One night Chuck confronted me.
"No one can figure
out why Victoria treats you like her boyfriend but
lavishes praise on her husband. What's going on
with that woman? Is she married or not? Are
you guys serious or not? Inquiring minds want to
know."
Shaking my head in frustration, I replied, "I was unlucky
enough to be hanging around during the blowup of Victoria's
marriage. It's a long story, but I feel a strange
loyalty to remain at her side till she decides what the
future holds. In the long run I seriously doubt I
figure in her future, but here I am for the time being.
Sometimes I like Victoria, but most of the time I just wish
she would move on. I've given up trying to figure the
woman out. I don't blame your friends for being
confused, but it is too complicated to explain.
Victoria is an indecisive, insecure woman who seems to find
comfort in juggling two men. Let's leave it at that."
"Why don't you just
move on and leave her to me? I'll take good care
of her."
"Chuck, if anyone ever deserved Victoria, it would be you.
Only a man who is the Reincarnation of Errol Flynn has the
skill necessary to keep a complicated woman like Victoria
happy. If I had the power to bequeath her to you, I
would do it in a flash. In fact, I would even pay you
to take her off my hands. But I have promised to stay
by Victoria's side until the divorce is final. After
that, she's all yours."
To be honest, I was very careful about what I said.
The less people knew about Victoria, the better. No
one knew about my secret shame, the Doorstep Night Affair
that broke up her marriage last fall. Considering my
desire to keep that scandal under wraps, it bedeviled me no
end that Victoria brought up Michael with her new
girlfriends every time we went dancing together.
Sometimes Victoria responded to a question about Michael,
but there were also times when Victoria brought the topic up
herself. Victoria luvved to talk about Michael!
God only knows what she might say and then the secret would
be open knowledge.
"And
Michael did this and Michael said that and...." It
drove me crazy. After all the crap she had put me
through, Victoria was still trying to hang on to both of us.
Rather than seek a permanent end to this nonsense, Victoria
was wallowing in the mud as usual. Dating back to last
year's 'Negotiations' following my breakup with
Patricia, the coming of July 1980 marked the first
anniversary of my subservience to Victoria's whims. How much longer was this charade
going to continue?
To her credit, even Victoria
admitted she was a little confused. "I can't understand
it, Rick, but I think I still have feelings for
Michael."
Oh really? I understand my description of our
relationship is wildly inconsistent. Sometimes I hated
Victoria and then there were times I was very fond of her.
We generally had a good time when she decided to join me for
a night of dancing. Indeed, Victoria was easy to
appreciate when she was feeling good. However, it was
tough to predict which particular Victoria would show up
from night to night. Victoria could be very moody.
Her insecurity caused her to do some really mean and
insensitive things. I believe that if Victoria
had not tried to control me so much, I could have loved her.
But you can't expect to treat someone like a captive and
then expect them to let down their guard. For whatever
reason, Victoria never seemed to understand how deeply I
resented her continual yo-yo treatment. It blew my
mind that I was chained to a woman who didn't even want me.
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Jim Barrett showed up in one of my Western classes shortly
after Urban Cowboy came out. Age 60, Jim
stuck out like a sore thumb. He couldn't dance a lick,
he slowed the class down, he wasn't cool, and he was 30
years older than the rest of the thirty-something students
in his Western class.
And guess what? Not one person said a word of
meanness. That is why I loved my students so
much... there was not a single snob in the bunch.
As for Jim, I loved him fiercely. I have never met a
kinder, more decent man in my life. I was very drawn
to Jim without understanding why at first. Eventually
I figured it out.
To begin with, Jim reminded me very much of myself when it
came to learning to dance. Watching Jim struggle, I
finally met a man whose learning pace was roughly the same
speed as mine back when I started. Noting his glacial
progress and growing frustration, one day I made a
suggestion.
"Jim, why don't you take a private lesson from me?
Don't get me wrong, group classes have value. But in
your case, you need to have things explained in much greater
detail than the average dancer. Let's work one on one
and let me help you."
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Jim didn't need one private
lesson, he needed lots of them. I never pried, but
I had a hunch money was not a problem. In addition
to continuing his group lessons, Jim took one private
lesson a week for about two years. Jim's biggest
problem was that he was very analytical. Sound
familiar? He was so unsure of his steps that he
actually
kept a folding ruler in his pocket to measure the size
of each step he should take. I smiled quietly to
myself. Similar thoughts had crossed my mind back
in my learning stage.
"Rick, should my longest stride
in Waltz be twenty-four inches long or should it be
closer to twenty-seven inches?"
The Dance Teacher Who Couldn't Dance had just met the
Dance Student Who Couldn't Dance. It was the start
of a beautiful friendship. I took immense pleasure
in nursing Jim past his over-analytical brain. Jim
would never be a top-flight dancer, but, like me, his
persistence allowed him to improve to the point where
dancing became fun. To my
distinct satisfaction, Jim said dancing was his favorite
hobby in the world. I fell apart when he said
he could not have done it without me. Aw...
Jim's kind words
were balm to my damaged ego. From the start, Lance
Stevens had predicted I would fail. I lacked
natural balance, I thought about my feet too much, I was
reluctant to perform and it took me forever to learn a
new move. I was indeed a slow learner, but oddly
enough my handicap worked to my advantage. I
discovered that my slow learning
curve helped me to become an excellent teacher for other
slow learners like Jim. In addition, due to my own struggles, I
was particularly sympathetic to anyone who experienced
learning difficulties similar to my own. As a
result, I developed infinite patience.
While Lance Stevens
kept his eye on the top of the talent pyramid, I
concentrated on the elementary level. What
Stevens never quite understood was that Beginners need
good teachers too. I was able to find an unusual
niche in the Dance World where my lack of dance ability
actually worked in my favor. As one of the few 'overly-analytical
people' who stayed with dancing long enough to
become a good dancer, I was able to explain complicated
concepts in a step by step way to students like Jim who
were equally analytical. Yes, I may have been slow
to learn a move, but I was excellent at explaining the
same move to others once I figured it out.
I was the right guy for
anyone whose brain-power interfered with their feet.
Since I too was analytical, I understood that using phrases
like 'copy me' or 'watch my feet' was
meaningless to these people. My strength was breaking
down a baffling move in a particular way that overly-bright
people could grasp. One day Jim and I had a long talk
about his struggles.
"You know, Rick, I
have never had so much trouble learning something in my
life. I have always been good at any subject I
tackled until now. It makes no sense. Why am
I so bad at dancing?"
"You struggle because
you think too much. So do I. You will get there
eventually, Jim, it will just take you longer than the
average guy."
"There's a woman in
my class, you know her, Susan. She is by far the
easiest woman to dance with and she picks up every dance
move in a flash. Susan dances circles around me."
"Yes, I know. Susan's got the gift. You learn by thought, Susan learns
by feel."
"The other day I
asked Susan what she did for a living. She's a
beautician. I didn't want to pry, but I doubt she even finished high school.
I don't get it. If I am so smart, then how does
Susan learn so much faster than me?"
"I once knew a woman
like Susan. Her name was Joanne. Joanne was a
receptionist. Same thing, Joanne could pick up dance
moves just by feel or by following. Dance lessons were
a waste of time for Joanne. Different people learn in
different ways."
"It boggles the
mind. I like to ask people in class what they do
for a living. Almost every one of them is
college-educated professional. And yet it seems
like the most accomplished people in my class are the
worst dancers. Did you know we have a judge in our
class? David and I are the same age, so we chat.
When I told David that Susan was a beautician, he
freaked out. 'How am I supposed to feel
superior when a beautician learns faster than me?'
We both started laughing."
"I've noticed the same thing.
As a rule, professional people are unusually
analytical. Their keen mind is what makes them good
lawyers, doctors, and businessmen, but they are often
humbled to discover they are the slowest learners in
dance class. Analytical skills are a definite
blessing to their career, but not when it comes to
dancing. That is where I come in. Since I am
analytical just like you, I break things down into
bite-size increments your mind can absorb. It's
like solving a puzzle... one step at a time, connect
the dots."
"What I like best about you is
that you are patient. You never criticize me, you
never make me feel stupid when I struggle. You
find some way to make me laugh and get me in the mood to
try again."
"Here's the funny thing, Jim.
You have a lot more going for you than intelligence.
To me, it isn't enough to be smart to be successful.
Success requires a sense of discipline. You know what
I mean. It's Friday night and you have a big project
due on Monday. Some people go out partying while
others stay in the office late and finish the job. I
bet that describes you to a tee."
Jim nodded and smiled. "How did
you know? I've always been very disciplined.
I am an architect. In my profession, work comes first."
"I can see that in your approach to
dance. You get frustrated all the time, but you never
quit. Since no one succeeds in a demanding career without
persistence, you've transferred that same refusal to quit over
to dancing. You are making progress, but your problem
is you pay attention to the progress of others and compare
yourself. Don't worry, you will get there eventually.
I have a saying. 'Even a turtle can get somewhere
if you give him enough time.' My guess is that somewhere during your education you learned
the value of delayed gratification. You know that if you
stick with it, good things come to those who wait."
"You know me too well. Maybe
that's because you and I are alike. The best thing
you ever did for me was convince me I would succeed if I
stuck with it. Plus your private lesson
suggestion. That was exactly what I needed to hear
because I wasn't getting anywhere in group class.
The music was too fast, there were too many steps to
keep track of and the girls didn't like dancing with me.
Once you told me how hard it was for you to learn, I set
my hopelessness aside and tackled the Polka with renewed
vigor. However, it was your suggestion to try the
private lessons that allowed me to learn at my own
handicapped speed. You have been very patient and I appreciate it."
"Listen, Jim, I appreciate the time I
spend with you. I think it is a blessing to have a job
like teaching dance when many people have to work at jobs
that don't give them satisfaction. I can't believe
people pay me to do this. I shouldn't tell you this,
but your problems learning to dance pay my entire house note
every month."
"You're kidding."
I laughed. "Yes, of course I'm
kidding, but at the same time it is deeply ironic that the
students who need me the most always turn out to be rich
enough to afford me. Poor people never seem to need
dance instructors, just rich people. It is the
weirdest thing, but people with two left feet seem to be
positively correlated to affluence and intelligence."
"That's kind of odd. Are you
serious?"
"Absolutely.
Smart people
make lots of money, but once they discover they need a
special language to learn to dance, they come to me.
Such a deal! It's your tough luck to be so bright.
You have no one to blame but yourself. If you want
to learn faster, you will have to find a way to turn
your brain off, but then you wouldn't be happy.
You like to talk to your feet too much. You would
miss the conversation."
Seeing me smile, Jim knew I was
teasing, well, sort of teasing. Jim
knew I was 100% in his corner, so he put up with my
annoying sense of humor.
One thing I learned is that if a
slow learner can laugh at their predicament, they
become much more accepting and less self-critical.
Since my razzing stayed good-natured, Jim learned to laugh
about his overactive brain. I teased poor Jim all the time, calling our
lessons 'Special Ed', 'Remedial Walking
Exercises', and 'Dancing for Dyslexics'.
I don't think Jim was used to being
insulted for being smart. On the other hand, he
didn't argue with me. Besides, judging by the way
Jim stuck his tongue out, I don't think he minded my
kidding too much. I got away with impertinence because deep
down Jim knew we were the same. He liked the fact
that I had once struggled just as much as he did.
Besides, Jim had his own sense of humor. From this
point on, any time he handed me a check for more
lessons, at the bottom he wrote 'Rick's September
House Note'. Or "October House Note"
and so on. This went on for two years.
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Jim used me as his dance partner in
the beginning of our private lessons because he was so
embarrassed by his ineptitude. However, once he began
to get the hang of it, he was no longer afraid to ask
various young ladies from group class to participate in his
private lesson. Well aware why Jim preferred to
dance with a pretty girl over me, I did not take it
personally.
Jim's favorite partner was a lovely
woman named Gloria Wright. She was 25 years younger.
I would show Jim a move and let him perfect it with
Gloria. Gloria was a sweetheart. There was nothing
romantic going on, but I could see she adored Jim.
They became really good friends.
One night at Jim's request I took my
group out Ballroom dancing. Yes, this was a real
stretch for me, but I decided to put my Ballroom private
lessons with Glen to use. Ballroom dancing was not
popular with my group. They preferred Western music. So, as expected, only 10 equally
misguided people showed up. Oh well, this was an experiment, so I didn't care.
Watching Jim get out on the floor with
Gloria, I was shocked to see Gloria follow Jim perfectly.
"How does she do it?" I wondered. Jim wasn't
even remotely close to the beat. There is an old joke
that a broken clock hits the right time twice a day, but in
Jim's case, his footwork had no relationship to the music.
He moved at whatever speed made him happy. Sometimes
he sped up, sometimes he slowed down, but Gloria stuck to
him like glue. Amazing.
I was in awe of the woman.
Having danced with Jim myself, I knew how hard it was to
dance with someone so blatantly a-rhythmic. I could never hope to equal
what Gloria had just done, so now I was curious. The moment
she returned to the table,
I pulled her aside.
"Gloria, how do you follow Jim so
perfectly? He wasn't anywhere near the beat of the
music!"
"Oh, I know, bless his soul, Jim
has a lot of trouble hearing the music. But he
counts out loud while we dance. So I ignore the
music and listen to Jim count instead. I move to
whatever speed Jim is counting. Works like a
charm."
I had to smile. Gloria's
explanation tickled me no end. Such a clever girl!
As a footnote, Gloria was very popular
at the studio. Considering what a lovely lady she was,
it is no surprise Gloria caught the eye of a handsome young
man named Oran Russell. The two met in an SSQQ Western
class in 1984. After a happy courtship that involved
many nights of dancing, Oran and Gloria married in July
1986. They had a wonderful marriage.
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FRIDAY
AFTERNOON,
JULY 15, 1983
DRUNK AS A SKUNK
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It was Friday, July 15, 1983. I
am getting ahead of my story, but since it involves Jim
Barrett, this is a good time to share it.
Despite his considerable drawbacks,
Bob Job became my best friend. What were his
drawbacks? I am so glad you asked. Here is a
good example of Bob's evil. I have only been drunk at
the studio twice in my life. Both times it was Bob's
fault.
As we recall, Urban Cowboy
took advantage of Robert Stigwood's failure to create a
timely sequel to Saturday Night Fever.
In 1983, Stigwood finally got around to making a legitimate
sequel. On the day Staying Alive made
its Houston debut, Bob called to see if I would like to join
him.
"Sure, but when?"
"Today."
"But I have a private lesson with
Jim Barrett at 6."
"So let's go to the 3 pm show. The movie will be over long
before that."
Sure enough, the movie was over at 5 pm. As we walked out,
Bob suggested we go next door for Happy Hour. I said
no, reminding Bob of my standing 6 pm appointment.
"Come on, Rick, I'm in a lot of
pain. That had to be the worst sequel in the
history of mankind. I need a drink to help me get
over how bad that movie was. Look, there's
Todd's right over there."
Hmm. Bob had made a good point.
The movie was truly bad.
"All right, Bob, if you need me to
cheer you up, one quick drink and then I gotta go."
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Due to
my odd lifestyle of working evenings, I had a rule against
drinking beforehand. Consequently I had not been to
Happy Hour in ages. But I had an hour to kill and here
we were. Why not? Bob and I walked next door to
Todd's, a busy singles bar located about 20
feet from the theater. Have a quick drink, shoot some
BS, head over to my private lesson with Jim.
I ordered a margarita, but I was in
for a surprise. When the waitress reappeared, she
placed three giant margarita's in front of me. Oh my,
what have we here? The waitress explained it was Happy
Hour and Todd's was offering three margaritas for
the price of one. This, of course, was back in the
days when bars were unconcerned about the dangers of sending
drunk drivers out onto highways. My eyes grew wide. I
took a sip. Hmm, kind of strong, but Yum! This was a
really good drink!
When I finished, it was 5:30. Unable to resist
temptation, there was no way I was walking away from the
second margarita. I have already confessed I was not
much of a drinker, so I had no idea what the consequences
would be. By the time I finished my second margarita, I was
spinning. Whoa, baby, those drinks threw me for a serious
loop. I don't think they watered the drinks down a bit.
Hopelessly smashed, I had lost my grip
on reality at this point, so I started the third drink
without thinking.
Bob looked up. "Don't you have a
lesson at 6?"
Glancing at my watch, I panicked when
I saw that it said 5:53 pm. Damn! With no time
left, I belted down the third margarita muí rápido, then began
my Sound of Music ritual.
"So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.
Adieu, Adieu, goodbye from me to you-hoo."
Then I paused. "By the way,
Bob, that
was the worst movie I've ever seen! I will never
forgive you. Tata, au revoir,
adios."
I was so drunk! And I was certain to be late. I
raced to my car. I estimate the drive to the studio
would normally take 12 minutes, but I did it in 7.
Trust me, I am not proud of my behavior. I could
easily have had an accident. Or I could have been
caught by the observant Bellaire police who were notoriously
unforgiving towards drunk drivers, especially the speeding
ones. Fortunately, I got lucky and made it to the
studio safely. I staggered out of my car and stumbled into the room a
couple minutes late. Jim was waiting for me, but there
was no Gloria.
"Uh, Jim, where's Gloria?"
"Oh, Gloria called last night to
say she's going out of town this weekend to visit her
mother. I couldn't find a replacement on short notice,
so I guess it's just you and me today."
"Not a problem, Jim. I am a gifted
follower [a complete lie]. Women everywhere are
envious of my grace [also a complete lie]."
Jim knew I was teasing. I was still unfamiliar with
dancing the woman's part in those days, but at least I had a
fairly good idea. Having danced solo with my private
instructor Glen for nearly a year, I had long gotten over my
reluctance for dancing with men. Women dance with
women all the time and think nothing of it, so why can't men
do the same? That said, Jim was my only male private
lesson student who didn't seem to mind dancing with me. Fortunately my
Waltz had improved to the point where I was somewhat
competent at the lady's part. I might add that even in
the drunken stupor I was in, I expected I could handle
anything Jim could throw at me. Not to insult, but
Jim's repertoire of Waltz moves was pretty limited.
Emboldened by my drinks, I felt no fear. However, I
was rattled when I realized I was slurring my words badly.
I couldn't think either. Unable to put five words
together coherently, I was in real trouble. Too
stupefied to explain anything to Jim, I suggested today was
the perfect day to practice to music, maybe even practice a
whole lot to music. Or in my case, do nothing but
dance waltz to music for the entire hour. Which is what we did.
After turning on the music, I threw myself shamelessly into Jim's arms.
"Okay, amigo, let's Waltz!"
Jim loved to Waltz, so I let him sail me around the floor. At first
Jim was off the beat. No surprise there. I
gently nudged him back on the beat whenever he strayed.
That much I could do. Oddly enough, after just two
songs, Jim didn't seem to need my help anymore. I
think dancing with someone who stayed on the beat helped him
in this regard. The extra practice made such a
difference, Jim was finally starting to catch on. I
was so proud of him! Jim didn't say a word, but he was
smiling. I think he was glad to turn this corner.
Of course Jim could have been smiling for another reason,
but I had the sense not to bring up the subject. I
worried that he might notice I was drunk as a skunk.
And so we danced. And then we
danced some more. To my delight, once Jim locked into
the correct speed of the music, I had the absolute best time
of my life. The most wonderful thing happened... I
began to float!! Seriously! I was so high I
could not even feel my feet touch the floor. I decided Waltz music had to be the
prettiest music I had ever heard. The Waltz tempo flowed
so beautifully that my feet flowed right along with it.
1-2-3, 1-2-3! Being drunk out of my mind had its
advantages. It opened up my senses to the joy a woman
must feel when she is having fun dancing. Until now, I
had no idea how pleasurable dancing could be for a woman.
This was such a delightful hour that I wished it would never
end.
Jim and I never discussed what took
place that day. However the subject came up again.
One evening four months later, the subject of Waltz came up
in Jim's group Ballroom class. A lady was complaining
that she did not like men telling her what she was doing
wrong. "If the men are so sure of themselves that they
can criticize me, let's see them dance the woman's part
first."
That prompted a different woman to speak up.
In a half-teasing, half-serious voice, she said, "Yeah, Rick, you're the
worst offender. You pick on me all the time. Let's
see you do the girl's part."
Instantly everyone in the room turned
to see how I would deal with the challenge. This
conversation was being conducted mostly in jest, but maybe
it wouldn't hurt to remind my students why I was the teacher
and they were lowly students. Hmm. A little
exhibition might gain me added respect, so why not? Noticing Jim
over in the corner, this was the
perfect opportunity.
"Come over here, Jim! Let's show
them what we can do!"
So I put on Jim's favorite Waltz and
let him take me for two laps around the floor to the undying
amusement of my students. I was no Ginger Rogers, but I
did a credible job. After the laughter and
applause died down, someone asked me how I learned to dance
like a girl. I was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt.
Should I tell them the truth? That's when I noticed
Jim watching me with a curious expression. Feeling very sheepish, I
decided to confess.
"About four months ago, Jim's favorite dance partner Gloria could not
make her lesson, so I had to step in and dance as a Follow.
I was drunk out of my mind which is terrible to admit, but
in an odd way it helped. I learned more about dancing
the woman's role in that hour than I had learned in my
entire career to date. That said, I also learned that
I cannot drink and teach at the same time. You have my
word I will NEVER do that again."
That's when I noticed Jim had begun smiling. "Hey, Jim, I have a question. Did you
know I was drunk that day?"
"Of course I did."
"How did you know? I
deliberately kept my mouth shut."
"That was my first clue. But
my main clue came when you didn't criticize me for anything.
Obviously
there was something wrong with you."
The class convulsed at that remark.
Ouch! Incidentally, I really did learn my lesson.
That remains the one and only time in my career I ever drank
before a dance class. It may be 5 o'clock somewhere,
but I always saved my drinking for more appropriate times.
And what about Jim? He was more than a student, he was my friend.
Jim was such a nice man. There was a warmth and
decency about him that impressed me so much. However,
due to our significant 30 year age difference, I was
reluctant to ask him much about himself. I thought
that would be an invasion of privacy. Consequently I
knew little about him other than what I observed. I
noticed that Jim never flirted with the various women he
danced with. Every guy in the dance crowd was tripping
over their feet looking for love, but not Jim. Jim
always remained the perfect gentleman. I wondered if
he was gay, but doubted it. I mean, if he was gay, he
certainly wasn't interested in me. And how could any
man resist me? Just kidding. By the way, I am
straight and Jim knew it.
There was an older woman in our group
named Carmen. She liked Jim and said she was
interested in him. Carmen then asked if he was
available. I replied I did not know, but that I would
ask. Curious, the next time I saw him, I asked Jim a
question.
"Jim, do you ever date any of the
ladies you dance with?"
"Oh, heaven's no, I'm married."
My jaw dropped to the floor.
Married? Why didn't I already know this?
"You're married? Really? I
had no idea. You don't wear a ring. Why doesn't
your wife join you? I thought women love to dance."
"My wife suffers from dementia.
Half the time she doesn't remember who I am."
Bam! That revelation hit with
the force of TNT. Boy, I walked right into that one.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I began to apologize
profusely.
Seeing the agonized look on my face,
Jim added, "You don't need to apologize, I am not
offended. How were you supposed to know? It's
not something I like to talk about, but I assume you can
keep a secret. I don't wear my ring because I don't
want anyone to ask where my wife is. The fact of the
matter is that I dance because I am lonely. You have
no idea how much this dancing has helped me deal with my
pain and loneliness."
I didn't want him to see my tears, but
Jim's story really affected me. I cannot even begin to
explain how much my admiration for this kind man grew.
In that instant, I got it.
Both of us had turned to dance to deal with loneliness. No
wonder I felt so close to him.
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