I have the utmost respect for my dance partner. When we are moving in time with the music on the dance floor, Barbara's face lights up with the sweetest smile, her green eyes glow and her dimples appear! Her smile almost makes my knees buckle but I can't let that happen now. I have to keep off of her toes and stay in step. Quick, quick slow! Quick, quick, slow! Quick, quick, slow!
After a nine-year break we signed up for ballroom dance classes, dusting off those basic skills we learned and forgot long ago. But this is not like riding a bike. You have to use it or lose it, buster. And we hadn't seen a dance floor in years. The Foxtrot, Waltz, Swing, Rhumba... Our teacher now is a feisty little redhead -- also named Barbara -- who watches us with an eagle eye as she lines men up on one side of the floor and ladies opposite. She shows us the dance step, patiently counts the rhythm, and then leads us through it -- men first because we lead, then ladies because they follow our lead. If I'm lucky, I mimic her steps perfectly. But if I bungle it, she leads us all through the steps again and then turns her gaze upon my two left feet. Quick, quick, slow! Quick, quick, slow! Quick, quick, slow!
After we've mastered the basic dance step, we meet our partners in the middle of the floor. My right arm bends at a 90-degree angle so I'm pushing on Barbara's back so I can properly lead her, and my left hand (and her right hand) are clasped. Not unlike a batter's or a golfer's stance, there is a proper dancer's stance, and our arms are adjusted so we create that Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers look.
I have the greatest respect for the likes of Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire, and their legacy is certainly safe. But, as Ann Richards once said, "After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels." Gotta really respect that. And poor Barbara is doing it in sandals, so if I misstep it's her toes that feel the crushing weight of my size twelves, or our knees knock together. But even when I lose count and we start our dance steps over, she's patient with me, gives me a quick pep talk to stay focused and positive, and we start again. It reminds me of how patient Ginger Rogers must have been with Fred Astaire. Boy, she sure made him look good!
