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Shakin' His Groove Thang

Despite finally re-entering the world of Those Who Have Internet Access At Home, Yours Truly is finding it hard to find time to post. Why? Well, how about adding two nights of social Salsa dancing, one evening of group Salsa classes, and one private lesson with the inimitable Ratbastardo to the weekly schedule? And that just for starters!

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For three weeks in a row now, the PseudoSalsero has managed to hit Tijuana on Sunday nights; for two weeks in a row, He has attended the slammin' hot Friday Night Salsa at Stratos and Ramiro's Sunday evening Salsa classes: intermediate at 7pm and advanced at 8pm (last week with Judge Judy, Dancer X, and the Valerina!); and last week He actually restarted His regular Salsa lessons with the Queen of Rats.

As if that weren't enough, He has made arrangements to take a long-intended private lesson with Roberto and Sandy (with whom He FINALLY had the courage to dance this past friday at Stratos!!!!) and will probably start working with a 4-way team at Skydive Dallas within the next couple of weeks (in terms of prestige and difficulty, 4-ways are the skydiving equivalent of a string quartet in classical music).

So . . . bear with Him. He's doin' lots 'o ass kickage . . . and wants to tell you ALLLLLL about it.

Peace out, yeau,

---the PL

Posted by earwicker at 11:59 PM

. . . and what have you done?

In which Your Wayward Hero, with nothing but the best of intentions, presses "play" on the xmas playlist, returns to Salsa, and counts a blessing or two

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After about 16-months of rare-to-never encounters with His favorite dance, the Salsa Pretender has re-assumed His coveted role as DFW's most enthusiastically inept PseudoLatino--dancing socially at least two nights per week (Fridays at Stratos, and Sundays at Tijuana Bar and Grill) and taking two private lessons per week (the first with the world famous Ratbastardo, the second with the dashing Roberto and jaw-droppingly gorgeous Sandy . . . oooo La La!). In recent weeks, I have even resumed my original activities as the Pied Piper of Salsa, dragging none other than Fred & Ginger, Judge Judy, Dancer X, and the Valerina to Ramiro's Sunday evening intermediate and advanced classes and, in the case of the Valerina, to Tijuana Bar and Grill for a bit of post-class practice. After an uninterrupted year-and-a-half of the stuffy, isolationist pretentions of certain (influential) contingents within the Tango social scene, what a breath of fresh air it has been to slam around the dancefloor with a cadre of those undisciplined, buttcork-free salseros who have so vexed my favorite Anal non-bead Bede--smiling, sweating, and (re)learning in various low-key, engaging atmospheres with musical selections and soundsystems which don't, errrrr, suck.

I've gotta say it again: c'MON, folks . . . GET A MUTHAFUCKIN CLUE!!!

Anyhoot, on this very evening I had my second lesson with Ramiro the Merciless, reviewing such delightful warhorses as the Windmill, the Illusion, the Elbow Hook, the Bump (not the Disco version, you phreaks!), the Back-to-Back Butterfly, Around the World, the Coke Bottle and a number of unnamed connecting moves that I had looooooong since forgotten. The man--as I never tire of repeating--dances like a dream, and he misses NOTHING. You haven't really had a dance lesson until you've tried leading Ramiro to do a double outside turn and watched him spot off of a reflection of a reflection in order to watch your footwork and inform you, quite correctly, that you probably shouldn't quit your day job just yet, since you look more like one of Jerry's Kids on Crack than a Salsero when you do your backspot turns.

Bastard!

We broke up the tedium (which is to say we allowed my incompetence to take a break) by dancing Tango for a few minutes. First he wanted me to lead him, and then he wanted to lead me. No surprise here, my friends: even as a complete beginner, the man kicks major ass. Analysis? Look out Mr. Bullwinkle, your Buenos Aires Dogma is about to take it, lubeless and undignified, up that orifice you so love to clench while dancing to shitty recordings of DiSarli et al.

But(t) enough about THAT, eh?

My friends . . . I urge you all, in the strongest possible terms, to take a class or two with the Bastard King of Rodents. And to come join me now and then for a night of Salsic bliss. Yours Truly will soon be adding Gloria's on Greenville (Thursday nights) to His schedule, and maybe more--as the salsa renaissance unfolds. Stay tuned for more info.

In other news, I broke down this evening--as I drove in a near blissful state through the sudden and formidable cold--and disobeyed my own No-Xmas-Music-Before-Thanksgiving-Arrives rule. Such a transgression was guaranteed to result, as it always does, in a fit of introspection and the beautiful melancholy of marked time. I purchased Sarah McLachlan's new holiday music collection, Wintersong, during a post-lesson stop at Crackbucks. It starts with John Lennon's modern Xmas classic, Happy Xmas (War is Over):

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

And as always, I wonder what have I done. Just asking the question of myself makes me sad, because I've never accomplished what I intended to do . . . but, in all honesty, I've done a great deal. I can be proud. To review:

• I learned to fly, having jumped 170 times from a perfectly good airplane. This is not to be underestimated: I've become an accomplished intermediate canopy pilot, and have made remarkable progress with my freefall flying skills, attracting attention from some of the world-class skydivers who make Skydive Dallas their home DZ. As a side effect of this experience, I have made many new friends and (sadly) even lost one of them. It may seem strange to many of you when I say that Mariann Kramer, whom I had only begun to know, has inspired me in ways that I thought were lost to me forever. Where many of my friends and so-called loves have paid lipservice to their dreams and to loyalty and to caring and to carpe diem, Mariann embodied it. We all miss you, Mariann!
• I performed on stage as a dancer for the first time in my life, a possibility at which I would have heartily scoffed a mere 2 years ago; and not only did I perform, I performed reasonably well, surrounded by dear friends and colleagues whom I have come to love and cherish, and with whom I can reasonably hope to spend many more years learning, playing, growing, and sharing
• I took my first extended trip to a truly developing nation, disappearing with a bicycle into the innards of Sulawesi, Indonesia for 14 days. During that time I was reminded, once again, that the world is full of people who are friendly, kind, curious, giving, and resourceful; I was reminded that America is one of the laziest, most arrogant and unimaginative countries in the history of the planet (sorry folks, it's true . . . and those of you spending your evenings watching your fucking televisions and your weekends hopping from bar to bar with your unimaginative loser friends are the worst of the fucking worst in this regard; get off your asses and encounter the world, wouldja?)
• I took my first trip into the heart of Mexico, travelling to Mexico City in March--where I danced Tango, met wonderful people, saw a vast multitude of prostitutes, and was able to communicate, however feebly, in spanish, which brings me to...
• I continued learning Spanish from the brilliant and charming Lourdes Molina, and--though my progress is glacially slow--am getting closer and closer to competently understanding a third language
• I decorated my apartment
• I managed to cause yet another stir in the infantile sectors of the tango community by once again calling a spade a spade, and a used car salesman a used car salesman. Will these dweebs EVER learn?
• I have spent the better part of a year in an imperfectly beautiful relationship with perhaps the strongest woman I have ever known, learning what it truly means to overcome adversity and to pursue one's dreams against all odds (thank you, mon Valerina. You, too, are inspiring. Far more than you can imagine); of course, that incredible BUTT deserves an honorable mention . . . but you knew that, eh?
• I learned to SCUBA dive . . . and did quite well at it, truth be told; this may be the next challenging and technical hobby I attempt to master
• I designed and developed my first solo software project for international release. That software has just been released to production, virtually bug-free, and within the next year or two there is a 50% or better chance that EVERY TIME you eat in a restaurant your transaction will pass through my software. This may sound dry and technical to many of you, but the program I created has 10's of thousands of lines of code and is a creative endeavor in the same way that composing a highly technical symphonic work is creative--only the pay is better and one gets a great deal more recognition for one's efforts
• I lived through the loss of the best and most loyal friend I have ever had in my life, a stunningly beautiful and loving Great Dane named Katje. Though her end brought unbearable sadness, it also made me appreciate my charmed life all the more. Lebewohl, mein Katje!

And these are only the highlights. Of course there were failures, too . . . but . . . ummmm . . . aliens is as aliens does, right?

Right.

Here's hoping that each of you can look back over your year--now almost to an end--and find in it a kernel of growth and joy. (Hey, I never said that Your Hero wasn't a SAPPY SOB, did I??!?!?) At the very least, I hope all of you had a blast.

And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Despite my weakness for xmas music at inapproriate moments,
I Remain,
Your,

---pseudoLatino

Posted by earwicker at 11:59 PM | Comments (0)