Ballroom Dancing

[Martin Hash]

I watched the 17 hour Ken Burns documentary on Jazz. From that my wife, Gwynne, and I decided to take a swing dancing class to spend some time together learning something new.

Wednesday night at 5:30pm: "I know all you girls are here to dance," began the instructor. "I want to thank all you boys for being good sports. Please line up facing your partners." I didn't do the mathematics right then but if I had, there were 15 dance couples and the class lasted 45 minutes...

It started predictably enough: where to put your feet, how to hold your partner, recognizing the beat. Gwynne and I smiled at each other - this was going to be fun. Abruptly, the instructor blew a whistle. "Okay. Change partners. Boys stay where you are - girls shift left one." Surprised, Gwynne and I looked around, hesitated, but the next woman was already moving in on me. Gwynne reluctantly stepped left to a new set of arms.

"Hi. I'm Judy," said my new partner.
"Oh. Hi. I'm Martin," I said, trying to get my arms in position around her waist. There was an awkward silence.
"Do you live around here?" asked Judy.
"Uh. Yeah." More awkwardness.
"Don't mind my clumsy feet."
"Nor mine."

During this time the dance instruction continued but I noticed nothing but strained introductions until the whistle blew. Instantly, I was relieved, but within seconds there was another unfamiliar woman in my arms.

"Hi."
"Hi."
"Oh... my name badge is covered but I'm Diane."
"I'm Martin."
"Do you dance much?"
"No."
"Excuse me. I'm just learning."
"Me too."
The whistle blew.

"Hello."
"Hello."
"I'm Ruth."
"I'm Martin."
"My husband Sid's got the cancer. We decided we'd do the dancing before he passes on."
"Um. That's... interesting."
The whistle blew.

45 minutes of excruciating pain - the last 10 minutes were unbearable. I never danced with my wife.

When it was over, Gwynne chatted happily about the lessons while I drove silently home. During the rest of the evening I was trying to decide what I was feeling. About 10pm Gwynne says, "Let's practice." I thought that was a great idea. We put our arms on each other, arranged our feet, listened to the music. Then I stumbled around not knowing what to do. "What's wrong?" Gwynne asked exasperated. "Didn't you learn anything in class?"