Dream Project

I was inspired by a guy named Matt, who made a video of himself dancing in different countries. 42 countries to be exact. (He had a corporate sponsor. How does one get a job like that?)

I would like to do something like that, but without a corporate sponsor, I would have to limit it to fewer places. Ideally, I’d want to dance a tango, the same tango music in different places, and seamlessly edit them into one video. The problem is it will require a partner. WHC is inconsistent and noncommittal when it comes to tango. Not to mention probably not too keen on being dragged all over the planet just to fulfill my dance project.

I wonder if I can ask different tangueros all over the world? That would be really cool.

Okay, first step, look for the right tango music. Should I stay with the classics, like La cumparsita? Go more modern, with say Oblivion? Or go neotango with some Gotan Project music? Decisions, decisions… Probably I should stick to the classics, more acceptable to more tangueros, I would imagine.

A friend joins me

My friend,  the Gay, (newly-minted) Republican Liberal, or GRL (he’s confused in so many ways, and yet in none), has finally decided to join me in tango.  Sensei#3 is pleased with how quickly GRL picks up the steps, that on the first day he said “In four classes, this man will be dancing tango.” And my heart leapt.

Your comments are posted

I just checked my “spam queue” and some of your comments have been blocked by the Akismet program that comes with wordpress. I’m “de-spamming” them now and posting them. Thank you very much and I really appreciate all your comments.

Happiness

A few things make me happy, my needs are quite simple: health of myself and my loved ones, a steady income, a good dance partner. That’s it.

Oh, and lower gas prices.

Sensei #3- The One

Well, I’ve finally found my frog prince tango teacher, I think. This is the One.

He did not talk about steps really. He is all about elegance and musicality, about The Embrace, and getting the “feel” right.  Sensei #1 taught me my A-B-C’s, for which I will always be grateful.  Now Sensei #3 is teaching me poetry. I think it has a lot to do with his age, he is not so “rock and roll” about tango. If Sensei #1 had the spirit of James Dean,  Sensei #3 had the spirit of Cary Grant. 

It also has to do with where I am, both in my tango journey and in my life. I am at an age now wherein a quiet evening with good wine is infinitely preferable to a rowdy evening with body shots.  Tango-wise, I don’t need to know much more in terms of steps (I’m just being led, anyway).  I’ve always heard that, tango is connection, communication of bodies, etc. etc.  But of course, until I got the vocabulary of movement, I couldn’t converse.  Not in tango, anyway– maybe some other freestyling, “interpretative” dancing, to put it kindly.  However now, after a couple of years, I think I have enough of the vocabulary to converse.  Having found my center,  I’m now ready to move from enjoying and concentrating on dance as movement, to enjoying and concentrating on dance as conversation. 

El Traidor

Sunday milonga. What can I say, I still had a hangover from Saturday night’s dancing, and as a follower of the hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-you school of thought when it comes to treating hangovers, I decided to go to the regular Sunday milonga. 

The evening was pleasant, marred only when El Traidor walked in.  I haven’t seen him in the Sunday milongas before.  No matter, there was room enough for me to move around without getting close enough to breathe his noxious airs.

WHC, the actual victim of El Traidor’s malice, says I should be cool. Like what does he think I’ll do, step up to the guy and bitch-slap him, Telemundo-style?  Puhleez. That’s just my fantasy, but not my style.  Anyway, on this matter, WHC is more New Testament turn-the-other-cheek and I’m more Old Testament get-in-the-boat-because-here-comes-the-Flood.

Oh well, fine. There will always be contemptible jerks.  This one just happens to have crossed our path: a snivelling,  two-faced, fake-smiling,  back-stabbing, rumor-mongering, self-excusing, self-dramatising, self-aggrandizing,  little twit.

(Deep breath,  big exhalation, Shake off.)

There. I’ve said what needed saying about him, so that’s done. May no one else fall for his golly-gee-whiz regular-guy shtick.

Other than that— I loved dancing.

“Tango spoken here”

Tired.  Came from special milonga in honor of some visiting tango teachers. Had a wonderful time. And to think I almost didn’t go, having had to come from a dinner date with a girlfriend. Good thing I remembered these things run on Argentine time. Arriving at 10:45 means it’s just getting started (and leaving at midnight is woefully old fashioned, but I was expected home early tonight– by two little angels).

The tango gods must have been smiling down at me, because seriously, it was magic tonight, they were all great dances I had. The best ones were with J, as always (thanks so much to K, his wife).  I was also asked to dance by oldtimers, who were very smooth and gentlemanly (not snobs at all).   They “moved” my body effortlessly. How delightful to dance with true tangueros.

But here’s the wonderful part:I danced several tandas with leaders of such diverse nationalities, it’s like the UN of tango. I danced with J, who’s Chinese; OldSweetTalker, who’s Argentine; Bearhugger, who’s Mexican, NewFace, who’s Indian (with a British accent).  At my table was a Pakistani lady and a Russian guy (okay, they’re probably second or third generation, but that still counts), and I am good ole’ Malay stock from Southeast Asia. 

Argentines still predominate the room, of course, and the natives (generic Texans) were in abundant supply, but this milonga had a distinctly international flair, and I believe all the continents were represented. Okay, maybe not Australia (nor of course Antarctica), but who can tell…

All these diverse peoples and cultures, bodies all speaking Tango, in different accents.

Dance like no one’s watching…

If you is feelin’ it,

if you is keepin’ it real,

Den don’ let nobody tell you you ain’t got soul…

 

Youtube-ing tango

I’ve been under the weather, and stayed in bed all day. So with nothing better t do I looked up videos of Javier and Geraldine versus Javier and Andrea. I’m starting to like Andrea more.  Geraldine seems to stick her butt out too much, it looks almost comical now.

I’m sure I’m going to get a lot of flak from Geraldine fans, but hey~ you can always sing her praises in your blog too.

I hope I’ll be well enough to go back to work tomorrow. I also have my regular Wednesday night lessons with Sensei#2.  But if I miss it, I’m sure I’ll catch up next week, because lessons are quite slow and sedate. (He’s Senseidate!) Although this sensei is good in his own right. I just want… more. As Billy Idol says…

“In the midnight hour, she cries ‘More, more, more!’… With a rebel yell, she cries ‘More, more, more! More, more, more!!!…’”

Lovely day

Practiced today. 3 hours.  Yay, yay, yay…