It was a sweet venue. The downstairs was filled with Czech goods and the ballroom itself was enormous. The Demetrius Steinmetz Band was good, their featured vocalist, Eileen Burns, was great. They played the classics, and though their slow songs lacked the sauce, they did a solid "T'ain't What'cha Do" and a great cover of Nature Boy. Apparently, Nature Boy is a pop-jazz standard, not just a David Bowie song on the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. Regardless, the song made me feel 14 again, belting out my feelings in my living room. Singing along is something new. I like it.
Pro:
- The posse! Brandi, Stephen and Danny are all brilliant humans. We had 4 singalongs on the way back. It was fantastic. I don’t know Danny as well, and getting to dance with him a lot was swell. Having Brandi more prevalent in my life has made Winter Term better. And Stephen has been an excellent work-to-life companion.
- Wooster kids! They were super-cute. A lot of them did basic steps that were syncopated differently, or just moved differently. Lots of big arm motions. Very interesting style.
Cons:
Surprisingly-Touchy Guy. Tall dude in his 40's. Kinda stiff, and strange to dance to. Didn't make much eye contact. We danced twice, which was a poor move on my part. I'm a fan of closeness-- slipping into bluesy-forms is awesome. But I don't want your hand on my butt on a swing floor. Cupping my ass is not where your hand should be. Also, trying to kiss me twice in one song is not good. Yes, swing does bring out the preposterous love-monkey in me, but only in my age-demographic. If you're able to run for president, than I'm far less interested.
Fascinating late-night:
Especially after swing dancing for hours and feeling my endorphins percolate my body, I kinda want to cuddle. And keep dancing. Blues enables this.
Much like swing, I feel nervous with it, as I’m still not technically proficient, but I love it. Technical blues dancers are lovely, but frustrating: at the end of the night, I’m tired. Absurd moves not ingrained in my muscle memory are difficult. Following is hard when your leg has been twitching for the last hour. Given the close nature of it, I feel more wretched when I botch blues than swing.
But non-technical blues? Sexy-blues? When we’re one writhing mass on the floor? That, my friends, is IT. Feeling a stranger move my hips with theirs is the most sensual way to say hello.
The late-night started as tech-blues. It ended with sexy-blues. There were these four awesome leads with great chill attitudes, wry wit, and about 10 tons of eroticism. They were openly emotionally affectionate. They were comfortable with their bodies. It felt like being with circus people. Or like family.
