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Rick Archer's Note:
On the same
night as my Helen Keller lesson with Joanne, I drove over to
see Jennifer after class. It still bothered me that
Jennifer had been able to hide in plain sight for an entire month
in my dance class. I had spoken to Jennifer several
times as her teacher, but not once did I notice how pretty
she was. Considering how lonely I was, I was always on
the lookout. How was it possible for a pretty girl
like Jennifer to escape unnoticed? Not just that, she
was the best athlete in the class. That in itself
should have guaranteed I would take a closer look.
Adding to the craziness, Jennifer said she had a crush on
me. Jennifer would watch me the entire
class and wonder what she had to do to get me to notice her.
All the great
loves of my life... Vanessa, Rachel, Patricia, Katie, Jenny,
Nancy, Arlene... had caught my attention the moment I laid
eyes on them. But not Jennifer. It is one thing
to notice but not act. It is another thing entirely to not even
notice. That is what bothered me. Considering
what a burden Victoria had become, I was
constantly on the lookout for someone to take her place.
And yet I completely overlooked this pretty girl who
had stood right before my eyes every Monday in August.
That was impossible!
Perplexed by Jennifer's surprising emergence in my
life, a disturbing explanation came to mind.
Cosmic Blindness.
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To be honest, I
believed from the start that there was no Realistic
explanation for my oversight. Ever since Patricia and
I broke up at the end of June I had been looking for a new
girlfriend. I briefly locked on to Victoria in July,
but the moment she dragged out her Husband List, I began
looking again. I looked in my dance classes, I
looked at Camelot. No one interested in me.
Meanwhile Jennifer was staring darts at me every Monday in
August, but I
never noticed. Based on the impact Jennifer had on
my life, I
developed a deep suspicion that I had been deliberately
blinded to her presence until the right time came to
notice her.
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WEDNESDAY-Thursday, September 5-6, 1979
STORM CLOUDS
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Following my
C&W dance lesson with Joanne on Wednesday afternoon, September 5, I spent the night at Jennifer's
apartment. She was overjoyed to hear I had found a
solution to my Country-Western dilemma.
"What a
difference a day makes! When we talked on Tuesday,
you were completely hopeless about the lack of teacher.
Why didn't you think of Joanne sooner? It sounds
like she really came through for you at the last
possible moment. What a shame your nemesis
Victoria turned her into a Disco Outcast, but that
turned out to be a huge break for you."
I nodded.
Joanne's assistance was indeed a Lucky Break for the ages. I
had explained how Victoria had sent Joanne into exile, but
stopped there. I wondered how much I should tell Jennifer about Victoria.
Probably as little as possible. Let's see what Victoria's
next move was first. Maybe I
could save telling Jennifer all the gory details.
Another
thing we discussed were her parents. Jennifer said she
felt guilty over ditching her parents over the Labor Day
Weekend. She had decided to fly to Dallas on
Thursday
afternoon and would drive back to Houston with them on
Saturday for the wedding ceremony. "I wish I could
invite you to join me at the wedding reception, but
things are complicated. I think it would be easier
if you met my family for lunch on Sunday. You
don't mind, do you?"
I was taken
aback by this surprising news. Why did she
feel the need to fly to Dallas when her entire family was
coming to Houston this weekend? However, I saw no reason to
object, so I said I would see her Sunday. As I watched
her drive off on Thursday morning, I felt a keen disappointment that I would not
see her again for four days.
My mood grew
worse on Thursday night. After class,
Victoria insisted that we talk in her car. I was
already in a bad mood over Jennifer's disappearance and now
sparks flew when Victoria said wasn't coming to Camelot on
Friday, September 7. She cited the 'Dance Curse' as her
reason. I was angry.
Victoria had canceled Annabelle's.
That was a crime in my book. She had missed Camelot last Friday, now she was
going to miss again. I was also irritated that she had
not spoken with Michael as she had promised. I had
another reason to be angry. Ordinarily Victoria taught
four classes a week, two on Tuesday, two on Thursday.
She had so few students this month that she was forced to
cancel one class each night. I had an even better
idea. Why not cancel all four of them and stay home to
work on her marriage? No such luck. Victoria
insisted on clinging to her diminished role.
When I asked
if this was a permanent decision regarding Camelot,
Victoria just shrugged. She said, "I guess we will
just have to see."
I ignored
Victoria as she launched into a series of complaints about
Michael. So far, attendance in September was half of
what it was in August. I felt
abandoned. First Annabelle's, then private
lessons, now Camelot plus these meager classes on Tuesday
and Thursday. It felt to me like Victoria was
deserting a sinking ship. Well, fine and dandy.
If I had no reason to expect her help anymore, then why am I
sitting here in the dark listening to this crap?
Fed up, I opened the
car door and wordlessly got out.
I was in a Clark Gable kind of mood. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Whoever
said I had to ask Victoria for my freedom anyway?
The shackles in my mind had been related to losing
Victoria's presence at the
studio. Since Victoria already had one foot out
the door, the sooner she left completely, the better. Since Victoria barely lifted a finger
anymore, her
hold on me was gone. I will do things my way from
now on.
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FRIDAY, September 7, 1979
DWINDLING CAMELOT
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On Friday,
September 7, I went to Camelot by myself. As I
approached the spot where the group liked to hang out, I was
appalled at the small attendance. The first person I
ran into was Gus, a student in my Monday night Acrobatics
class. Gus pulled me aside.
"Where is
Victoria? I haven't seen Victoria for
two weeks, first Labor Day weekend, now tonight.
And the manager at Annabelle's said you
guys quit on Sundays. What's going on? Is there something wrong?"
What was I
supposed to say? "Oh, gosh, Victoria is afraid that she has a
Dance
Curse and might lose her life if she dances with me ever
again. You wouldn't want to risk seeing Victoria
struck by lightning, would you?"
Smiling lamely,
I tried to reassure Gus. "Victoria is doing something
at her daughter's school tonight. I'm sure she will be
back next week [a possibility, but basically a fib]."
Gus waved his
hand around the room as a way to call attention to the
sparse crowd.
"Without
Victoria at the Pistachio Club, the
energy has been really low. At first I thought it
was just not having Victoria around, but then I began to
wonder if the real reason is Disco might be gone soon.
Did
you hear that Boccaccio recently closed?"
I frowned.
I had never been to
Boccaccio, but every club that
played Disco music counted. Gus was really getting under my skin
with his comments. "No, I had not heard. That is
news to me."
"You
know, I am worried that maybe people are getting tired of
Disco. If so, when will you start
teaching Country-Western??"
Teach
Western? Is this guy out of his mind? I did not
see that one coming. I stared
blankly at Gus. What was I supposed to say? The sum total of my
experience with Western dancing was the Cotton Eyed Joe
at the Cactus Club
three months earlier. Thanks to Joanne, I had a rough idea how the
Redneck Polka worked, but it remained to be seen how my
Sunday Meyerland class went before I made any bold statements.
"Come on,
Gus, don't you
think it is premature to write off Disco? I
mean, Boccaccio is hardly a mainstream Disco club."
"You're
right, Boccaccio is a small place and
well off the beaten path. But it is right next door
to where I live. I go there all the time
because I am a minor celebrity with my partner dancing. If they are going to put a
Western club in that spot, I want to be ready.
So I asked around. No one seems to know a single
Western teacher. What about you? Can you
teach Western?"
Gus was
really putting me on the spot. The memory
of my June visit to
that awful Cactus Club continued to be my
worst nightmare. Country-Western dancing was not
only ridiculously simple, it was also incredibly boring.
And now Gus expected me to teach him how to Western
dance.
Teach him what? I felt sick in my
stomach. I decided my
only safe choice was to avoid the question.
"Sure, I know a
little Western, but there's no real demand. I'm sure
when the time comes, I'll change my stripes [mucho big fib].
But for right now, let me dance a little. We can
talk some more later." That was another
lie. I had no
intention of saying another word to Gus.
Full of despair, I
just wanted to get him off my back. Attendance in my September classes
was down, Jennifer was
missing, Victoria had deserted me, I hated
Country-Western, and the Pistachio Club was empty. That was more than enough to put me
in a bad mood, but for some reason this off-hand comment about Boccaccio
was the straw that broke the camel's back. I felt the
beginning a huge depression. I could not help but feel this just might be the
long-awaited beginning of the end for my beloved Magic Carpet Ride. If so, that would be
tantamount to the end of the world.
To my
dismay, one student after another wanted to know where
Victoria was. That's all they could talk about. I spent the entire night answering the same
question over and over again. "Where is
Victoria?" Things
were not looking good. There was very poor energy
at Camelot plus attendance in my classes was down
for the second straight month. Without Victoria,
the Camelot event was deader than a doornail. I had no
way of knowing whether tonight's problem was related to
Victoria or the imminent Death of Disco. Probably some
of both. Ever since the Karate Chop incident, Victoria
was so depressed she was mere shell of her former self.
Without Victoria, Camelot seemed doomed. Never had I
been more frustrated. I couldn't live with Victoria
and my dance program couldn't live without her. As
much as I hated to admit it, the dance program needed its
mother. Jennifer was out of
town that weekend, so I had nothing else to do but go
home and brood.
I was worried sick about
the future of my dance program. So far, my
entire year had been marked by one crisis after another.
Eight months of
drama with the Dueling Divas of Disco Discord plus my
fears about the growing menace of Western
dance clubs had worn me to a frazzle. It seemed like all I ever
did was worry. Right now the thought of Jennifer
was the only thing keeping me glued together. When I got
home, the only message on my answering machine was from
Victoria. She was crying and upset that I had not
answered my phone all day Friday. She
demanded I call her the moment I got home.
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Considering how depressed I was, I refused to
call her. Instead I decided
to take Emily and Sissy for a long walk in
the night. I adored my dogs. They were strays I
had adopted. As the three of us walked the neighborhood for an hour,
my mind was consumed with one question...
Why is Disco dying? Disco was going strong in every single
corner of the
country. The lone exception was here in Houston.
For some strange reason, Disco had been systematically being replaced by one
Western club after another. Here in September,
there was just a trickle of Discos left.
Why was that?? As always, I
could find no answer. The disappearance of Disco
was a mystery with no solution. What in the world
was I going to do when Disco was gone? The
more I thought about teaching Western, the more I panicked.
Even if I managed to pull off this bizarre impersonation of
a Country instructor on Sunday, I
was certain my career was over. Once
Disco was gone, there was nothing left for me to teach.
Ballroom? Don't be ridiculous. Ballroom was for people who were lucky to still be walking.
Western?
Forget it. I was only teaching Meyerland
for dog food purposes. I pegged Christmas as the
bitter end. After that I would have to look for a real
job.
I felt
desperate. I wasn't just losing my job, I
was losing my 'reason for being'. For the past five
years, my entire identity had been wrapped around Disco.
Three years of learning, two years of teaching. Disco
Dancing had rescued me from the worst
depression of my life following my Colorado State
debacle. Dancing had not only given me
self-confidence around women, I discovered a teaching talent I never knew I had. Going out
dancing with friends had been the most
fun I had enjoyed in my entire life. Furthermore,
I nursed a well-kept secret that this Dance Path might
just be God's plan for me. If so, God's Plan had
just hit a dead end. Once the Disco
Ball stopped spinning, the party was over.
The bad news about Boccaccio broke my spirit.
Class attendance was down, Annabelle's was history, Camelot had lost its
leader. More than ever before, this was the night I felt like Disco was going, going, gone. I hurt so much. It was like watching my best
friend in the world shrivel and die from an incurable disease.
Worst of all, I did not even know what had caused the
illness. Why is Disco dying in Houston
but nowhere else? Looking at the stars in the dark sky, I asked a question.
"Will someone up there please tell me why Disco
has to die?" No one
answered.
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