Tom Easley is a long-time friend of mine. His presence in my life goes all the way back to the early days of our studio. Perhaps it is my social work background that has led me to guide SSQQ with an eye towards group dynamics. However it takes many individuals contributing to make a group work. I can't think of any other man who has done more than Tom to bring a lot of individuals together at the studio and help them merge into a group.

Tom is pictured here with his beautiful wife Margaret.  Tom met Margaret here at the studio back in early 1987 and were married later that same year. 

Today Tom and Margaret have two children, Tommy (age 15) and Ashley (age 11.  I will be sure to put the whole family's picture up the first chance I get to find a current one!!

Tom started classes at SSQQ in 1983. He quickly developed a well-deserved reputation for having an off-beat sense of humor. Just to give you an example, he had a wonderful friend named Carol Gafford (pictured at right with Diane Head seated).

Carol and Tom were buddies. They dated other people, but acted like brother and sister towards one another. Tom had a pet nickname for Carol, "Dogface". Now Carol is an attractive lady.  What on earth prompted this ridiculous nickname is one of life's great mysteries. 

Even stranger, Tom didn't just call her this behind her back or just when the two were alone. Instead Tom called Carol "Dogface" in front of everybody whenever she was around.

You the reader already sense this is not a normal man. I imagine just looking at the bizarre outfit was your first clue, right??  If so, you are starting to catch on we are dealing with a different kind of penguin.

Back in 1986, Tom was a card-carrying member of a very close group of friends, many of whom had met through the SSQQ Martian Whip classes.

The name "Martian Whip" had been inspired by another Strange Character known as Mike Fagan (pictured w Carol at right).  Mike had asked a leading Whip dancer to evaluate his dancing. The man rolled his eyes and told Mike he had good leads, excellent timing, good footwork, but his style of dancing was straight from the Planet Mars.  (Mike Fagan)  This odd put-down led to the unusual name of the class.

Mike and Tom were always in competition to develop off-beat moves.  Why they didn't bother inventing stuff girls liked is beyond me.  For example, one day Tom developed a bizarre new move.  Tom would hold Carol's right hand, then rotate his body 360 degrees clockwise without letting go. This brought Carol's hand up to his shoulder level just below his chin. Tom would rub his nose all over her trapped arm and make a huge snorting sound. Then he pretended to sneeze all over her arm which of course grossed everyone out big-time!!

Tom proclaimed he had just demonstrated the "Snot Step".  In his very own words, "It's Snot a Step, it's a Snot Step". Say it fast a couple times to begin to fully appreciate the total stupidity of the move. Do you now agree this is not a normal person we are discussing here?

Tom started to learn the Whip in 1983. After 3 years of practice, Tom had become a great dancer as the fateful year of 1986 rolled around. Unfortunately no one ever noticed that he could dance a lick because we were always laughing too hard. Tom could tell stories so cleverly. Whenever he told a tale, we would lean forward and listen carefully. No one could keep a straight face around this guy. 

There was a lot more to Tom than his comedy.  Although he loved to clown around, he was also a born social worker.  Tom was was always finding ways to contribute. He was always busy organizing events and helping his friends with a project or a problem.

For example with the help of his friend Carol Gafford, once a year Tom would organize a wonderful weekend trip for the group down at the beach in Freeport. In addition to the people who rented rooms at the beach houses, many other people would drive down for the day. The event might be attended by 50 to 100 people!! This is something Tom did for 10 years in a row despite the fact it was an enormous undertaking.

Although in life many good deeds go unrewarded, as a side note I would like to point out it was at his 1987 beach party  that Tom met the woman he would marry. I might add it was Margaret who finally settled him down.

But Margaret's eventual steadying touch was a year away in 1986. It was up to us to keep Tom from going over the edge, no easy task because Tom was growing nuttier by the moment.

Personally, I always thought it was a good thing Tom found ways to stay popular because with his odd sense of humor and taste in clothes it was never love at first sight when the Fair Sex viewed him for the first time.

For Tom to get a date with that personality he had to grow on you the way mold might grow on some leftover bread. But he was funny!!   Ohmigoodness was he funny.  Tom's Rodney Dangerfield-style of "I Get No Respect" humor would paralyze us with laughter. 

The Group loved to hang out together. Often we would meet for dinner after a dance class, then go dancing afterwards. One day Tom showed up for dinner with a plastic toy Parrot on his shoulder.  Tom went around the table introducing the Parrot to each person as his "Agent". Tom said he was trying to get a little more notoriety and his Agent was in charge of his career. The Parrot went everywhere with Tom and sat on his shoulder as he ate his dinner.

Periodically Tom would talk to this parrot in the restaurant. It was very similar to a bizarre Jimmy Stewart movie called "Harvey" where Stewart would constantly talk to a giant invisible rabbit.  Tom talked to his Agent constantly. Everyone at the table would roar with laughter.  Before I forget, let me mention that people from other tables would point and stare.  Tom had a way of drawing Everyone's attention, not just ours.

Tom had been having way too much fun at our expense for some time. Are you beginning to see why he deserved what we did to him?  Further seeds of the Tom Easley Look-A-Like Night can be traced back to 1983.  Tom is a pretty fair banjo player. In fact he is good enough to have recorded a CD of his own music.  

Back in those days all of SSQQ would meet at the Winchester Club once a month for a huge night of Western dancing. Each Wednesday was Talent Night where any act could enter. Tom won several times with his banjo playing, but all he could talk about was one especially irritating defeat.  Tom was particularly bitter about losing to a fiddle player named Yogi.  He got his nickname from his ability to cross his legs Yoga-style at the same time as he continued to play the fiddle.  After successfully knotting his legs, then he would lie on his back playing the fiddle while he lifted his impossibly-crossed legs up in the air for everyone to see.

Tom's friend Ted Jones (pictured right) pointed out that the guy could really play, but Tom said he didn't enjoy getting beaten by a Freak Show.  I believe the pain of this defeat may have set the stage for the breakdown that ensued a few years further down the road.

Everyone agrees that the event that pushed Tom over the edge was the Night of the "Vertically-Challenged Individual".  It all started with a trip to the Ramada Inn one night in 1986. Seven of us piled into one car to go Whip dancing to a band playing live blues music.

We had to beg Tom to go since he had just broken up with his girlfriend.  Tom used to have a temper and tonight he was in one of his famous "Irish Moods". The moment he walked in, Tom knew he had made a mistake coming with us. The band was dreadful. The guitarist looked like a Beach Boys-reject, the keyboard player was 15 years old, the drummer was a Grateful Dead wannabe, and the Lead Singer (to whom Tom took an instant dislike) was a "Vertically-Challenged Individual". 

The "Vertically-Challenged Individual" was at most five feet tall, maybe shorter. The rest of us were able to tolerate the Lead Singer, but Tom hated him and didn't mind telling anyone in our group how he felt. Besides the fact that the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" had no talent for singing, there were other things that irritated Tom no end. The "Vertically-Challenged Individual" had the annoying habit of insulting people.  At one point or another, the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" insulted Blacks, Jews, Arabs, Hispanics, and Aggies. His humor was always in bad taste.

Another thing Tom objected to was the "Vertically-Challenged Individual's" habit of wearing a different hat for each song. Believe it or not, before each song the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" would put on a new hat: a hard hat, a cowboy hat, an Indian headdress, plus the Lawrence of Arabia outfit which was my personal favorite.  Obviously the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" was a big fan of the Village People because he wore all five of their hats.  I suppose the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" was doing whatever it took to get attention.

While the rest of us were able to ignore the "Vertically-Challenged Individual's" antics, Tom absolutely detested the little guy. Breaking up with his girlfriend combined with the "Vertically-Challenged Individual's" hats and bad jokes was more than he could take.  Tom refused to dance due to his bad mood. Instead he just sat at the table alone while the rest of us danced.  He spent his time brooding. From the dance floor I would catch a peek of Tom. He just sat there glowering at the "Vertically-Challenged Individual".

When one of us would sit out a song, Tom would fill us in on the latest stupid thing the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" had said or done to make him mad.  Tom was serious, but we were in stitches!! 

Even in the Gotta-have-a-Gimmick world of ShowBiz, the "Vertically-Challenged Individual's" Danny Devito Act was pretty ridiculous. The rest of us were too busy dancing to give it much thought, but not Tom. He was mesmerized!!  He would not take his eyes off the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" to save his soul!   Tom was obviously something of an "attention-seeker" himself, but usually had quite a bit more panache than this character.  One thing was obvious - the dwarf was hitting some nerve in Tom that the rest of us didn't quite understand.

An older lady named Pat from another Whip group came over to ask Tom to Slow Dance with her. This lady was nearly a head taller and 25 pounds heavier than Tom.  She was a large woman.  I knew Tom didn't want to dance with her, but he accepted because he couldn't think of a graceful way to say no. Tom was still a gentleman despite his bad mood.

Already deep into his depression, Tom was hard pressed to even get his arms around the lady. He was also having a hard time breathing... don't forget the lady was a head taller so imagine where his nose was.

Hating every moment on the floor, Tom somehow managed extricate his face from the Twin Peaks long enough to check on his friend the "Vertically-Challenged Individual". Instantly Tom froze. He stopped dancing as his partner stood beside him bewildered.

Tom had suddenly noticed that the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" was standing on his head at the same time as he was singing "Feelings". That was one stunt too many for Tom!   He immediately stomped off the floor and announced it was time for us to go!  He couldn't take any more of this.  All the way back to townTom talked non-stop about the "Vertically-Challenged Individual". He was obsessed.

As you can see from the picture, on Tom's Look-a-Like Night, I decided to tease Tom by standing on my head in memory of the "Vertically-Challenged Individual".  Fortunately Tom was in a much better mood by then.

However at the time I think the pressure was too much. Something inside of him "shifted" because after the "Vertically-Challenged Individual" Nightmare, Tom was never the same. Tom had always been a little off-center, but now he was at least 30 degrees more peculiar than he had ever been before.  

And he became increasingly touchy. One night at Wild West, Tom did a fancy slither move with a beginning Whip dancer. The lady took a step back and said, "I've seen that move before!!  I bet you learned that move from Mike Fagan!!"  This made Tom bristle. Tom had actually learned how to Whip long before Mike.  This woman's off-hand remark insulted him. Tom retorted, "Lady, I was doing slithers back when Mike Fagan (a former break dancer) was still dancing on his hands." 

Defensive, unappreciated, a chip on one shoulder, a parrot on the other, Tom developed a very strange personality. He NEVER stopped talking about the "Vertically-Challenged Individual". Each week Tom would regale us with a new episode in his hysterical "Tales of the "Vertically-Challenged Individual"" series. Tom should have been a writer for the Simpsons.

But the development we found difficult to handle was Tom's new habit of wearing the absolutely most garish clothes imaginable any time we went out dancing.  His clothes were so UGLY that if I didn't add these pictures no one would even begin to UNDERSTAND just how wacko Tom looked.  His favorite outfit included an unbelievably ugly pair of madras pants and a bright red Hawaiian shirt. Tom wore this outfit EVERYWHERE we went!!   It's a good thing we loved him because he sure was hard to look at.

After the "You learned that move from Mike Fagan" remark, Tom developed a bizarre repertoire of new whip steps in a desperate attempt to establish an identity separate from Mike Fagan.

Tom invented moves such as the Face Off, the Head Stuff, the Moose Call, and of course his beloved Snot Step ("It's Snot a Step!").

Tom also developed a bizarre hand-dance ritual he would perform with Mike Fagan. The ritual closely resembled two bullmooses bashing antlers together in a fight for mating privileges (see the picture).  Maybe it was the grunting that made the ritual seem so primitive, but I remember women running for safety just in case one of them somehow managed to win mating rights.

Okay, you've read the story now. See if you agree with our thinking. You are an amateur psychologist with enough background in psychobabble to be dangerous. Tom is crying for attention, right?  He needs an intervention, right? 

We have a guy who is a walking loony bin, yes?  And it's up to his friends to help him, yes?  Thus the stage was set for the Infamous Tom Easley Look-a-Like Night.  

It was Margie Saibara who set the spark that lit the fire.  One night she made the mistake of complaining to me about Tom's unique dress style. Although she will tell you she was jesting, between you and me, I think she was completely shocked by Tom's lack of sartorial taste.  

As you can see from her picture at right, Margie is a Swan. Graceful and lovely, I doubt Margie has ever worn an un-matching outfit in her life. Tom was driving her crazy!!  She said that Tom had gotten in the habit of wearing his Hawaiian shirt and Madras pants every place the group went.

Margie said that last night as Tom walked into a restaurant with his group of friends, every person in the room had turned to stare at him. She said she wished she could get Tom to wear bathrobe in public places.  And she wished Tom would get rid of that stupid parrot that sat on his shoulder while they ate. Margie saw Tom as pure Fright Night.

Furthermore Margie said it always seemed to be her that ended up sitting next to Tom. She accused the others in the group of driving quickly to the restaurant to grab the furthest seats away from him before he arrived. With a frown on her face, Margie admitted she was embarrassed to be seen next to Tom.

With a little tear in her eye, Margie confessed that when people would gawk at Tom, she just wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear rather than be seen next to him. I laughed myself silly at her description, but I knew she was serious.

Margie is so shy and polite. For her to talk as boldly as this was clearly a plea for someone to make a powerful "Fashion Intervention".  Well, I got the hint. As she spoke, a wicked plan took form in my mind. Why not have a Night where everyone would dress just like Tom?  Give him a taste of his own medicine!  But it had to be a complete surprise!

So with Margie as my co-conspirator, we contacted everyone in our large circle of friends. I began to set the trap. I knew that Tom helped Carol teach a Twostep class every Friday night at the dance studio. Since he would automatically be at the studio, we would ambush him on this night.

We told everyone to find the ugliest, brightest clothes they could muster and wear them to the studio. Most of my friends later told me they had to buy articles of clothing for this event because they didn't actually "own" anything as ugly as what Tom wore on a regular basis. Several people said they went to resale shops. I believe every story because I did the same thing. I went to Foley's to buy what I thought was the most hideous clothing imaginable.  As you can see from my picture with Diane Head up on my shoulders, I bought garish beach shorts plus a Hawaiian shirt brighter than the sun for the occasion. Like Tom's outfit, this combination was hideous beyond comprehension. The difference was I knew it was an eyesore.  Tom was oblivious.

Earlier in the week I called Tom to tell him I had been invited to a Hawaiian Party on Friday. I told Tom how much I admired that red shirt he liked to wear and asked if I could borrow his shirt for the party I was going to. He was so proud to have been complimented on his shirt!!   The truth is he loved to help people and I knew beyond a doubt he would lend me the shirt. Sure enough, delighted as always to help, Tom even went to the trouble of having the shirt pressed and dry cleaned.  Bless his heart, inside the plastic wrapping you can see the two Hawaiian "Leis" he added just so I would look even better at the party I had fibbed about!!

But I couldn't allow myself any "Old Yeller" softness - Tom had fashion rabies; he clearly deserved what was coming! Once he handed the shirt to me as he arrived at the studio that fateful Friday night, the Trap was set.

Carol Gafford was in on the joke too. It was her job to keep the door to Room 1 closed.  Shortly before the end of her class, I excused myself from my own class to go the restroom and change. Taking a hint from Margie, I wore an enormous bathrobe to hide my Foley's outfit.

I led thirty people into Carol and Tom's classroom.  All of us we wearing the ugliest, brightest clothes in God's Creation. The first thing I did was hold up The Shirt as EVIDENCE.  Everyone in the room cringed at its ugliness.  Everyone that is except Tom. There was Tom staring at the shirt with pride, not shame.  I don't think he "got" it.

Then I let my bathrobe open to the shock of the crowd. People screamed in horror.  Tom's students were not in on the joke. No one had warned them. A gang of bikers could not have frightened them much more than we did!  Isn't it a shame that these innocent people had to suffer??   Even people who had been forewarned had to shield their eyes!!  If I had been Medusa, I would have had a room full of students turned to stone.

In the picture you can see me reading a sensitive poem I wrote for the occasion, but alas Tom showed no regret!  30 friends stood dressed as hideously as Tom appeared on a regular basis, but in his mind, they had finally come to their senses and decided to dress as attractively as he did!! 

Tom was beaming with the biggest smile I have ever seen. Never has anyone felt so clearly that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Instead of taking our surprise as an insult, Tom was thoroughly delighted!!  His friends had come to honor him!  Alas, our Intervention backfired completely - From that night on Tom continued to wear the same ugly clothes wherever we went no matter what the occasion.

The Safari Bar Club

After the Intervention at the studio, the plan was to go Whip dancing at a place called the Safari Bar Club.

Thanks to me, Tom already had his favorite shirt at the studio, but he felt naked without the accompanying Madras pants.  Immediately after I finished reading my beautiful poem, Tom raced home to fetch them.

In addition to the madras pants, Tom brought along another friend as well. He showed up at the Safari Bar with his sunglasses and favorite stuffed parrot on his shoulder. The parrot had on sunglasses too. Not everyone had met the parrot so Tom patiently introduced his "Agent" to an entire new group of fans and admirers. 

I looked around nervously in case any psychiatrists might be present. There were times like tonight when Tom was beyond a doubt more extreme than any of us really wanted to admit. Even more embarrassing, it's obvious he was rubbing off on us. Collective insanity?  Group psychosis?  Yes, that's what I'm talking about.

A funny thing happened to Mike Fagan (pictured at right).  Mike came closer to matching Tom for the evening than anyone else, no surprise because Mike was pretty extreme in his own right. Mike wasn't able to meet us at the studio for the poetry reading, but promised to meet us afterward for dancing at the Safari Bar. He arrived there shortly before the rest of the group.

Although our group were regulars at the Safari Bar, none of us had thought to warn the management we were coming.  The door person took one look at Mike and wouldn't let him in the club!!

Mike was fit to be tied as he stood there trying to explain the "Concept" of the evening to the highly unsympathetic guardian of decency.

Fortunately the rest of us began to show up. The door man finally man backed down when a waitress came by, took one look at Mike and said with a straight face, "Oh, you look really ugly. You must be with that group over there!!"  

But did Tom get the message?  No, of course not.

Soon Margie joined us for the dancing. As you can see from the picture, Margie wore a lovely coral red and lagoon blue Hawaiian shirt tied at the waist with matching blue shorts.  Did you notice the shade of blue in her shorts matched the blue in her shirt perfectly?

As I gazed at Margie's pretty outfit, I smiled at the irony of it all.  Even on the Tom Easley Look-a-Like Night - the one night where she had permission to take a fashion risk without losing anyone's respect - Margie could not bear to wear an outfit that was not perfectly color-coordinated. This Beauty and the Beast picture captures the spirit of Tom and Margie's Polar-opposite natures to a T.

That night several women complain to me behind Margie's back how mad they were at her.  These ladies were furious that Margie had cheated by dressing nicely on a night when they looked hideous.  One lady threatened to pull out a marks-a-lot pen and help Margie "blend in".

I carefully explained to each woman that Margie couldn't help herself any more than Tom could help himself.  I told them that somewhere deep in Margie's mind there must be some imperfection in her outfit that the rest of us mortals could not see or comprehend. 

I said that although we would never know what it was, deep down Margie was in terrible psychic pain over some flaw in her outfit that was not right. The women calmed down when I added that in her own way, Margie was just as nuts as the rest of us, it just wasn't quite as obvious.

Now that I think back, maybe we were all kind of strange.

Tom may have been the lead Wacko, but we were all a little crazy. A review of the pictures proves beyond a doubt that Mike Fagan was nuts.  Ted Jones was nuts. And now that I look at the pictures, maybe I was a little nuts too. But only "a little"...after all, I get to write the story, right?

Diane Head, Michelle Collins, Carol Gafford and Judy Price each told me that beyond a doubt those were the ugliest clothes they had ever worn in their lives. They couldn't believe they had allowed themselves to wear those outfits in public!!  And when they saw the photographs, each woman gasped and said, "What was I thinking?!?"

What a group.  What a mess we were. So what?  We sure had a lot of fun.  Gosh, how I miss those days!! 

One look at Margaret and Tom was instantly smitten.  Margaret is a beautiful woman.  Tom felt the thunderbolt!!  He quickly gathered his wits about him and invited Margaret to drive down to his 1987 Freeport Beach Weekend to join him and the group. Tom carefully drew the best map of his life to give to Margaret and showed a charming side that hadn't appeared in some time.

Margaret gave Tom a million reasons why she couldn't make the trip. She definitely said she doubted she could come. Obviously she changed her mind. The next weekend she drove down. Margaret hadn't planned on staying very long, but she had such a good time she ended up spending the entire weekend with the group!!

Her conscience bothered her all weekend long because back home her poor beloved dogs Trixie and Grumpy were stranded. Amazingly they were so well housetrained they didn't do Number One or Number the whole time she was gone!   Now that's impressive! 

So how did a barbarian like Tom land a babe like Margaret??   Every insider knows the answer to that: Margaret never saw him with his clothes on!!

After all, down at Freeport Tom looked a heck of a lot better in his bathing suit than he did in his usual outfit. God obviously tries to take care of everybody, even stray sheep like Tom.

Tom and Margaret got married in the Fall of 1987. They now live in Sugarland with their son Tommy (born 1990) and daughter Ashley (born 1993)  

Did I mention Tom is a terrific athlete?  Ask him and he won't hesitate to tell you he was the fastest white guy in Philadelphia growing up.  Even in his late 40s he is a perennial Sugarland ice hockey all star despite playing men half his age.  Plus Tom is quite a volleyball player.

Tom and Margaret generally invite the studio over once a summer for an afternoon of water volleyball in their backyard pool.  In this picture, I am embarrassed to admit that it is me getting my spike stuffed by Tom. Humbug.

And what ever happened to the Shirt? 

It was our fondest hope when Margaret married Tom that she would put her foot down and vaporize his more exotic clothing.

But Margaret was too shrewd for that.  She knew the pressure of giving up his wardrobe was just too much to ask at the start of a relationship.

Instead she gradually weaned Tom away from his clothing. As you can see from the picture, amazingly she even found ways to color-coordinate the guy. Miracles do happen.

These days with the joy of his family and lots of responsibility in his job, Tom almost seems normal. But I know it's just an Act. Tom Easley will never be normal.  Nor would I ever want to him to be. The world would become too boring if that ever happened.

Let's fast-forward to a new Tom Easley Adventure.  One afternoon in late 2000 Tom called to invite me along on a ski trip as his roommate. He already had plans to take his family skiing over  Christmas.  He look forward to helping his two children Tommie and Ashley improve their skiing.  However after doing the "Daddy" thing  he wanted a second ski trip to ski hard and ski fast. Tom also wanted to look better than at least one person on the slopes, so he called me. 

So I went skiing with Tom the final week in January 2001. It was the first time I had been skiing since 1996. There were about 40 people on the trip. It turned out 25 of them had taken lessons at SSQQ at some point in their lives. People kept saying "hi" to me throughout the first day and I kept saying "hi" right back, then I would turn and ask Tom who that person was!  How embarrassing. 

The Big Chill Week with The Look A Like Generation

Also along on the trip were Ted Jones and Margie Saibara who at the time were teaching the Twilight Zone Whip class here at the studio. They have been close friends with Tom just as long as I have. During the trip the four of us hung out together.  Margie still carries a little wound in her soul from Tom's barbaric outfits. I watched her carefully.  Outwardly she seemed to have forgiven him.  But no one can ever forget...

In fact this trip was a sentimental homecoming for me. I ran into a lot of friends I had not seen for a long time. You see, I used to organize ski trips for the studio back in the 80s. Many of the people on this year's trip went on my trips and got to know each other. After I tired of organizing the trips, a dance student here at the studio named Burt Eschenfelder took over and ran the annual trip for about 5 years. Then he too got tired of it - organizing ski trips is a lot of hard work!  A couple who had met at the studio named Charlie and Beverly Roberts decided to take over for Burt. Charlie and Beverly were good at this.  Since the early 90s they have been running the annual trip that Tom and I went on.  Their experience showed; this trip was extremely well-organized! 

Tom and Charlie weren't the only guys on the trip who met their wives at SSQQ. Also along on the trip was Gary Kryzwicki who met his wife Linda at SSQQ. Doug and Sharon Hollingsworth were on the trip along with their close friends Irving and Sharon Carter.  Take a guess where these four people all met their future spouses. These marriages all date back to the 80s.  And there were some unmarried couples as well that had met through the studio. 

That old ssqq slow dance and romance magic has been working its wonders for a long time, folks.


Those Were the Days My Friend, We Thought They'd Never End...

I was stunned to see many friends for the first time in over five to ten year. Among the friends I ran into on the trip were Ken Schmetter, Michele Collins, Dan Taft, Tom Edens, and Jim Ponder. All five of these people were a big part of the studio back in the mid-80s. In fact this whole week was sort of an SSQQ version of the "Big Chill".  

Groups of close friends develop at SSQQ all the time. My pet name for them is "Generations". Today the studio is so big we have Western groups, Whip groups, Swing groups, and Salsa groups so it is a little tougher to identify all the key players.  It was easier in the old days. There was only just one group.

This particular group on the Ski Trip formed during the Tom Easley LookaLike era. Most of the key players were already on board when I began my infamous Streak when I went Whip dancing 201 nights in a row in 1986. This bizarre 7-month period actually served as a huge catalyst that brought us all even closer together.  By the time the LookaLike Night rolled around, we were as close knit a group of people as you will ever find.

By combining with some of the 2nd Generation and the 4th Generation, the LookaLikes had an impressive six year run during the mid-80s. My first Group of Insiders were formed during my Disco Days in the late 70s.  My Second Generation formed during the "Urban Cowboy" era. The Fourth Generation never really assumed an identity all their own since they mostly followed the leadership of the many LookaLikers who signed on for an SSQQ Life Membership.  So many people from the fourth SSQQ Generation merged with the LookaLikes that I often think of them as a sort of "Double Generation".  

The 2001 Ski Trip was a perfect example of the Double Generation. For starters, it was filled to the brim with 3rd Generation types like Tom Easley, Tom Edens, Ted Jones, Jim Ponder, Michelle Collins, myself and Margie Saibara. The Fourth Generation was well represented with people like Ken Schmetter, Dan Taft, Charlie and Beverly Roberts, Doug and Sharon Hollingsworth, Gary Kryzwicki plus Irving and Sharon Carter. 

Over the years, there have been many generations of In-Crowds at the studio, but as you can probably tell the Double Generation is the one I identify with the most.  Back when they were active at the studio, they kept the place rocking for six long wonderful years.  I was always right there in thick of things stirring up trouble.  It is true I enjoyed a special status as their Teacher.  And people looked to me to get things going - I was usually in charge of saying, "Let's get it started!"  But at the same the time I loved being one of the crowd.  Sock Hops, Halloween Parties, Ski Trips, Charades Parties, Trips to the Bahamas, Beach Trips, Pool Parties, Labeling Parties, Volleyball parties, camping trips, Renaissance Festivals, you name it, we had fun and I had fun.  And these people were more than just "fun".  When I was recovering from my divorce in 1986, every one of these people gave me all the support and love anyone could ever ask for.  They got me back on my feet after some rough times. It is easy for me to say the LookaLikes became the closest group of friends I have ever had.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way. There were so many deep friendships made that it isn't surprising these people still connect twenty years later. I made a count. Over 60% of the people on the Tahoe Ski Trip originally met through the studio back in the mid to late 80s. They grew so close together that for the past twenty years, this group has danced together, partied together, gone on Beach trips together, and obviously still meet annually for ski trips. Frequently here in Houston the group will meet for a birthday party or show up at Tom and Margaret's house for a summer water volleyball game. And I don't mind saying how fortunate I feel to have been a part of this group.  

(PS - You can read more about this group in an article I wrote called "Where the Creatures Meet".)

All good things must come to an end.

By the late 80s slowly but surely people began to drift away from the studio. Many of them grew tired of the single life.  Just like an active group of college seniors that have been together since their freshman year, many people began to pair off within the group.  Social dancing for the most part is a singles activity. Each time a couple got married, dancing slowly but surely became less important and the couples disengaged. For example, Stan Clark and Pam Silverblatt were a big part of the LookaLike Generation in 1984.  They were also one of the first to pair off and get married. By the time of the LookaLike Party in 1986, Pam and Stan were long gone. We lost at least 10 couples via the marriage route.

Several others - Tom, Mike, Carol, Dan Taft, Steve Racey, Michele Collins, plus Ted and Margie for example - decided to get involved in competitive dancing. Almost en masse they moved on to another dance program taking several Fourth Generation friends like Scott Allen, Mark Matthews and Jeannie Haynes with them.  Not only did Mike, Ted, and Margie win individual honors as State Whip Champions, they became key members of a dance team that had a lot of fun times together.  Unfortunately for me, I was the odd man out.  I was unable to join them in their new adventure because I worked every night.

Others like Jim Ponder (3rd Generation), Craig Mason (3rd Generation), Diane Head (3rd Generation), and Jim Smith (a huge 4th Generation leader and a big loss), Hilary Mears, Debbie Oswald, Chuck Clayton, Rilla and Valerie Ryan, Juan and Julia Olkin (2nd/3rd Generation) plus Bob Job and Louise Campodonico (2nd/3rd Generation) all moved to other cities for love and career reasons. The shaky Houston economy in the mid-80s didn't help much.  The need to find new jobs in other cities cost the studio many important friends.

And to my mind many other key members like Judy Price, Alan Brown, Ken Schmetter, Aimee Atkinson, Tom Edens, Diane Stotz, John Cowen, Jeri Hartman, Risa Beckham, Rose Brown, Michelle Keating, Debbie Anglin, and Lester Buck drifted away simply because most of their friends were gone.

I actually studied the group dynamics carefully.  I often saw things in terms of Physics.  The Core group was the magnet that held everyone together.  Various people would leave, but the Core of the 3rd Generation was so strong it absorbed all the 4th Generation people into its center, thereby keeping its "Pull" strong. 

First we lost Jim Smith and Diane Head back to back in 1988. These charismatic teachers were much loved and their loss hurt a lot.

But it was the late 80s transfer of the dancers over to Southwest Whip that was the death blow. So many leaders left at once, the Core was weakened.  Suddenly it was not large enough to attract new "Particles" nor maintain the loyalty of the previous "Particles".  For example, an individual member of the group might drop out for a couple months intending to return. Then one day he or she would show up for a party only to do a double-take at all the new faces. "Where did everyone go?" was a complaint I heard all too frequently in 1989.  I knew what that lost look on their face meant - it meant they would not come back.  

Whatever the reason, one by one they all left the studio. Sometimes I call 1989 my "Dinosaur Year". By 1989 practically the ranks of all the Third Generation and most of the Fourth Generation were completely decimated.  All the Dinosaurs were gone.

I confess it broke my heart to see them go. I was pretty lost that year. My painful experience with the Breakup of the Double Generation forced me to learn some tough lessons the hard way. I was forced to realize that some dancers will be forced to find new teachers in order to progress. Another lesson I was forced to accept is that for most people "Dancing" is just a phase in their lives. I might keep them for a year, maybe even two, but the clock is ticking.

Therefore one of the darkest decisions I have ever made came after the group had moved on. I decided I would never let myself get this close to my students again.  The pain of losing another group was just too much for me to risk.  The closest thing I can compare it to is losing all your friends from high school when you leave for college, when you graduate from college, or when you relocate to a job in a new city. I lost practically every friend I had in the space of a year.  Don't misunderstand - all these people still weave in and out of my life to this day and I am always happy to see them. But this was the year when I forced for the very first time to see that I am only given these people for a limited time.

My role had to become that of a Teacher, not "One of the Crowd".  By coincidence, I also turned 40 that year. I still look back at 1989 as one of the longest years of my life. This was the year that ended my youth.

Sometimes my modern era students will say, "Come to Wild West" or "Come to Dallas Dance" or "Go Dancing with us Saturday" or "Come to the Barbeque" or "Why didn't you come to the Reception?".  I know these requests are sincere. I know these people must think I am a snob.  But how do I gracefully explain my reluctance?  It is a fact that I turn down most requests for the simple reason that I never want to go through the misery of losing an entire circle of friends in my life again. 

This story actually has a happy ending. Fortunately the studio became home to a real-life "Charlotte's Web" scenario. The movers and shakers may have moved on, but into the void an entire new generation formed around new leaders. I give Sharon Crawford a lot of the credit. I think she practically ran the studio that year.  Sharon had help. Current and former instructors Susie (Allen) Merrill, Ben Liles, Linda Rooks, Maureen Brunetti, Donna Ruth, Debbie Reynolds, Judy Archer and Linda Cook took up the slack and made enormous contributions in their own right.  These were the people who were the Leaders of the Fifth Generation.  They may be the "Old Guard" today, but it is a fact that these people were the ones who helped me guide SSQQ into today's era.  The LookaLikes had a great run of 6 years, but people like Sharon, Ben, Susie, Maureen, Judy, and Linda can claim a run of 15 years and still going.  Not bad!!

With their help, in the early 90s the studio began to grow and so did the ssqq staff.  I learned to focus my friendship on members of the Staff rather than students. And like my friends before me, eventually I grew sick of the single life as well. I married Judy Archer, had my daughter Sam, and focused more energy on running the business.  I didn't have as much fun, but I did appreciate the joy of watching the studio expand.

Eventually the wounds healed. Life goes on. And I smilingly point out that SSQQ became a huge success once I got rid of all those trouble makers.  And I will always miss them.


Tom Easley Gets Even

Having read the story above, you can imagine how nice it was during my 2001 Lake Tahoe Ski Trip to reminisce with my many friends about all the good times we had together. Just like the old days I even helped organize a Charades Night and a romantic night of dancing on a dinner boat that circles the lake. Naturally I misbehaved while dancing with every woman I could get out on the dance floor. It was fun making them laugh and smile.  Husbands?  Who cares?  I can swim.

I enjoyed my skiing a lot.  I am not a bad skier for a Texan. Considering this was my first ski trip in five years, I thought I skied pretty well. I was able to keep up with the group and not hold too many people back which made me feel good. 

One thing that didn't feel good was a misadventure on my first day of the trip. In 1996, I bought myself a brand new pair of expensive skis.  I used them for one week, then stored them in a ski bag in my closet and didn't see them again for five years. Make sure you read this right - I used those skis ONE TIME.

When Tom invited me on this trip, the skis may have been five years old, but as far as I was concerned, they were practically brand new!  So naturally I brought them along with me for my trip this year, lugging them all the way from Houston to Lake Tahoe, California. A boy and his expensive skis.  How touching!

So here it is the first day of the trip, everyone is strapping on their skis and getting in the lift line. They all called for me to hurry up and join them. I clicked one ski onto my ski boots just fine, but the second ski refused to snap. Finally I leaned over to see what was the problem. I frowned when I realized the boot binding was broken and just barely hanging onto the skis by one screw.  Thank you very much, United Airlines. 

Now I understood why all the people in my group were using fiberglass ski carriers.  Don't you ever get sick of having to learn everything the hard way??

I had no choice but to rent some skis that day.  After missing the first lift, I didn't even see my friends again till late that afternoon. I was determined not to get left behind again so that evening I took my broken ski to be repaired at a ski shop. Since our rental car was in Tom's name, I asked him to drive me over there and hang out till I made up my mind what to do.

The young man (17? 18?) tried to fix them, but finally gave up.  With an air of disgust, he said I needed new bindings.  Fine, how much is a binding?  Well, $100 for two bindings. But I only need one... Uh oh, they don't sell single bindings. You don't sell one shoe, now do you?   Ski bindings work the same way.  Then I asked how much my skis were worth...Oh, $30 maybe. I was nauseous!!

I felt like my skis were sticking their tongue out at me for neglecting them for FIVE LONG YEARS.  To hell with them.  I told the guy to euthanize my skis and to rent me another pair for the week. I was really pissed me off!  Brand new skis...

Meanwhile Tom Easley was watching the entire tragedy.  I noticed him over in the corner laughing pretty hard at my irritation over the expensive broken skis, you know, the ones that broke after being used just one time.  Thanks, Tom. I was not in a very good mood at this point. I decided to go to the restroom before subjecting myself to my second ski rental.  What a pain in the butt this was!!  I needed to calm down.

When I came back,  the young man said he needed to get some information from me to outfit these skis. First of all, how old am I? 

This question irritated me. Actually I was so grumpy just about anything would irritate me, but this really irked me.  Does the ski care whether I am 30 or 50?  Or do they do have AARP settings for older people?  This reminded me that I since turning 50 four months earlier I hadn't found jokes about aging to be funny for some time. Humbug. 

I was feeling obstinate so I lied about my age and said I was 48.  I was stunned when Tom butted in and told the guy the right answer, adding some stupid wisecrack, "The guy is too old to remember his name, much less his age!"  Thanks, Tom. 

Now the young man asked me for my height. Apparently believing he can no longer trust me, he actually made me stand against the wall to measure me. He said it was for my own protection, adding these statistics were computerized and all settings were based on a precise logarithmic ratio determined by the sophisticated software the ski shop used.

I could not believe the level of California-speak BS this kid rattled off.  I bristled at the attitude in his voice. I decided he was a smart-ass kid, probably a snow boarder. Now the Kid asks for my weight. I told him 208. I worked hard to lose weight before the trip and actually knocked off 6 pounds ahead of time. I was quite proud of myself for this accomplishment. But the Kid didn't buy it. Up on the scales, Mr. Archer. 

I am aghast that the first reading pegs me at 225. The Kid looks at me in disgust. Can't trust anyone over 50. I started to complain bitterly. "I am NOT 225 lbs," I insisted irately! 

The Kid rolled his eyes and got up on the scales himself. Then he got off and got back on, repeating his move. He stepped away and declared it accurate.  He pointed to the scale and told me to get on again.

I blanched as the scale indicated I ballooned to 235 lbs!! 

Tom, who was standing right next to me, let out a surprised whistle and shook his head. No one likes a fibber.

I was crimson with frustration. I was exasperated!  First my skis break due to the stupid airline, then I get yelled at by my friends at the lift line who end up leaving me behind, then the skis aren't worth fixing, and now I am standing on the worst scale I have ever seen! 

With great precision the Kid typed 235 lbs into the computer, then had the gall to stop what he was doing to give me a lecture.  He looked me in the eye and with the serious expression doctors reserve for explaining a deadly disease, the Kid intoned, "Mr. Archer, you need to take the measurements seriously. If we don't measure you precisely, you could get hurt. If we give you the wrong skis or the wrong settings based on inaccurate information, you could be stuck in settings above your ability. Furthermore I believe your weight gain is the likely reason for the binding failure on your skis!"  

I was apoplectic. I started coughing violently. I didn't even know where to begin putting this kid in his place. Didn't he realize I haven't even skied on these stupid skis once since my weight gain?  Then I remembered I hadn't even gained one stupid pound!!  In fact, I lost six pounds!

All these angry thoughts raced through my head. There I stood like an open-mouthed moron not knowing what to say when out of the corner of my eye I noticed Tom was laughing his head off. He thought this was the funniest damn thing he has ever seen. 

Suddenly I grew suspicious. My eyebrows narrowed.  Tom was having way too much fun.

So I asked him, "Tom, why do you think this is so damn funny?"

Tom told me to get back on the scale. It immediately stabilized at 210... that is until Tom put his foot on the scale behind me and sent me soaring up to 240. He could not stop laughing. Showing how easy it was to fool me made him laugh even harder. 

Then I saw the Kid having a difficult time suppressing a grin. When he saw me looking at him, his expression quickly changed as his guilt caught up with him.  He began to apologize for what he said to me about my weight.