MARCH 1977, the lost years, Age 27 STUCK IN THE MUD

Sure enough, I landed in the doghouse.  Elena felt supremely insulted.  All that fuss for nothing.  Elena was very formal in the ensuing month.  She sent a firm non-verbal message to cut the bullshit from here on out.  However, there was no reason to feel sorry for her.  Elena came out of this a lot better than I did.  It did not take long for Elena to find her next love interest.  On a positive note, once the new guy came along, Elena forgave me and the deep freeze was over.  Unfortunately, I missed our daily teasing.  And I was very lonely.   Unlike Elena, a woman who attracted men with magnetic ease any time she took her sweater off, I had no one to take her place. 

Although Gloria was gone, I still had Gaye to act as my safety net.  She termed my decision regarding Elena a 'positive learning experience'.  Forgive me if I throw up.  Despite my distaste, I knew Gaye was right.  I was glad I had done the right thing even though it had been at great expense to myself.  However, her compliment failed to ease the pain.  I had every right to feel dejected.  I was sick and tired of all this so close, but yet so far nonsense.  How many learning experiences must I go through before I see some reward?  I was 27 years old and my success rate with women was still stuck near zero.  On the bright side, I could feel myself getting stronger.  Although Phobia was still there, I could feel its grip loosening.  For one thing, small talk with pretty girls was no longer a problem.  I had Elena to thank.  Furthermore, my night at the Rubaiyat was not a total loss.  While dancing with Elena, I noticed my ancient promise to continue dance lessons until I was a very good dancer was fulfilled.  It had taken nearly three years, but I no longer needed lessons.  Although I continued classes with Patsy and Rosalyn, it was out of habit, not necessity.

Later in life I would go back to my Lost Years and spot a potential Supernatural Event that I had overlooked.  It is not until I know the Impact of an Event that I can be sure.  A good example would be Roberta handing me control of her dance class.  However, Manimal's assault at the Farmhouse made my List immediately.  Prior to his attack, I had procrastinated leaving the Farmhouse even though Lucy and Juicy insisted it was time to leave Gay World and begin chasing girls my age.  Unable to take action of my own free will, the Force of Fate had sent Manimal to do the job for me.  So here we are, two years later, and I have the strangest feeling that this aborted evening with Elena was another message from the Universe to get on with things.  Trust me, I would much rather have Elena shove me through the door than Manimal, but on the other hand the lasting grief I felt balanced things out.  Why was I suspicious?  I thought it was really unusual that both Gloria and Elena had left me hanging at the exact moment my Dance project and my Small Talk project had been completed.  Very curious.  The time to hesitate is through, no time to wallow in the mire, time to set the night on fire.  Hmm.  Remind me who said that. 

Only one problem.  I was so certain of rejection, I could not make myself ask Rosalyn if she knew some way to help me become a line dance instructor.  Good grief, I had been dragging my feet for six months!  October November December January February March.    Back in October, once Patsy Swayze had closed the door on my desire to join her dance company, my thoughts had automatically switched to my second choice, the dance teacher idea.  Since Rosalyn's class was not much of a challenge, each week for the past six months I had spent the entire hour meditating on my odd little fantasy.  The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it.  But did I have the courage to act?  No!!  After asking Rosalyn to lunch shortly before Christmas, I moved from student to assistant status in the January-February class.  Unfortunately, despite my upgrade, I still could not make myself say the word.  Feeling more than slightly foolish, I signed up for the March-April class.  Surely Rosalyn must have guessed my motive by now.  Apparently not.  She was happy to see me, but gave no indication of the ability to read my mind.

Given that my successful night of dancing at the Rubaiyat coincided with the start of Rosalyn's March class, this was the perfect time to say something to Rosalyn.  Unfortunately, the simultaneous loss of Gloria and Elena left me too depressed to make myself do it.  And so March came and went without a word.  Try as I might, I could not seem to work up enough nerve to have that certain talk with Rosalyn. 

April 1977, the lost years ELENA has a suggestion

"Why can't you show him, Elena?"

"Marco is one of those kind of guys who needs it explained to him and that's what you're good at, not me."

A sad smile of regret crossed my face as I recalled how Elena and I had danced the Bump on our date one month ago.  When I glanced toward our supervisor's office, Elena read my mind. 

"Don't worry, Verna is still downtown.  I checked before I flagged you down."

I shrugged.  "Okay, Elena, let's do it." 

I sighed as Elena came out from behind her desk.  She looked really good, even with that baggy sweater on.  I took a deep breath because I knew what she was packing under that sweater.  I wasn't sure dancing in the office was a good idea, especially since my passion for Elena had never disappeared.  What is it about being a man that makes him want to keep every woman on the planet for himself?  I detested my weakness.

I worked with Elena for a couple minutes and showed her the variations I used.  Then I let her practice on me as if she was the boy.  Not surprisingly, Elena caught on pretty fast.  As for me, I was aroused by the contact, but there wasn't much I could do about it.  Have I ever mentioned that being a guy isn't as easy as women think?  This constant need to keep our hands to ourselves sure makes life difficult.

Meanwhile Elena was pleased.  She grinned and said, "That's cool, Rick!  You make it easy to understand.  You know what?  You should be a dance teacher!"

Elena's comment sent a lightning bolt through me.  Tingling with excitement, I thanked Elena, then raced to my office.  Sitting at my desk filled with nervous energy, I repeated Elena's suggestion over and over.  I was certain this was the omen I had been waiting for.  Unless I was badly mistaken, my wish was about to be granted.

Wednesday, April 6, 1977, Age 27, the lost years the year of the cat

It was Wednesday, April 6th.  Thoughts of teaching a line dance class had been tip-toeing at the edge of my mind ever since I joined Rosalyn's class seven months ago.  However, after all these months not once had I found the courage to ask Rosalyn to give me a chance.  As usual, even with this omen my fear of rejection held me back.  I was very upset.  I knew my tendency to procrastinate had cost me a chance at dating Katie and Becky.  Now I was doing the same thing with my hesitation to ask Rosalyn.  Was I the most pathetic creature on earth?   Fortunately Elena had lit a fire under me.  I took her compliment as a sign that the Universe would look favorably on my heartfelt wish. 

My plan was to ask Rosalyn if I could teach a pattern during class and see how things went.  Considering this was the fourth time I had taken her class, I knew Rosalyn's material like the back of my hand.  Ever since we became friends over lunch shortly before Christmas, Rosalyn and I had developed a good rapport.  Perhaps Rosalyn suspected why I curried favor with her, but we had never discussed the subject.  That said, knowing Rosalyn appreciated having me around, I hoped for a positive answer.  I would die if she said no, but I had to go through with this.  No more putting it off; I had to ask tonight or risk losing my mind.  

Intensely nervous, throughout the hour-long class I kept reminding myself that Elena's encouragement had to be a blessing.  Fearful of beating around the bush like I usually did when I was afraid, I rehearsed my opening line over and over.  Meanwhile Phobia was in rare form.  Thrown out of Graduate School.  Epic Losing Streak.  No career.  No girlfriend.  Totally ineffective in my current job.  What made me think tonight would be any better?

After three years of going nowhere, I had finally locked onto a goal I wanted more than anything else in my life.  However, in Hindsight my desperation does not make a bit of sense.  I had somehow elevated the idea of teaching a relatively unimportant line dance class to something akin to playing Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind.  Why was this so crucial to me?  I do not know the answer to that.  All I know is that I was panic-stricken as I approached Rosalyn after class.  We know how nervous men get when they prepare to ask a woman to marry.  That's how hard my heart was beating.  I realize it must be difficult to accept how hard this was for me, but I was trying to overcome an entire lifetime of fear.  I was the elephant attempting to pull away from that stake for the very first time.

"Rosalyn, I have a favor to ask.  Do you think it would be possible if some night I could substitute teach for you?  I remember some line dances from Becky's class that I think your students would enjoy." 

Rosalyn smiled.  "That's a good idea.  I will agree to it..."  Rosalyn suddenly frowned.  "But only on one condition!"

Only on one condition?  Oh no, what is it?  I was so tense, I nearly had a heart attack.  When I said I would die if Rosalyn turned me down, I meant it.  It is embarrassing to admit just how important this was.  Reduced to a whisper, I asked, "What is the condition?"

Seeing my look of panic, Rosalyn realized I did not know she was just teasing.  Following a warm smile for reassurance, Rosalyn proceeded to clarify.  

"Calm down, Rick.  What I meant to say is I would like you to would teach a line dance I have never seen before.  I am getting really bored with my material."

What that, I began to breathe again.  But I was so rattled, I couldn't reply just yet.  Noting my distress, Rosalyn continued.

"Actually, I am glad you asked.  It would be great to have a back-up teacher.  You never know when I might I get the flu.  How about next week?"

Next week?  Holy smokes!  "That would be great, Rosalyn, but I am confused.  Do you mean teach the entire class?"

Rosalyn nodded.  "Sure, why not?"

My heart leapt for joy!  I hugged Rosalyn so tight I may have knocked the wind out of her.  Filled with excitement, I raced home to tell my basketball and pool table the good news.  Then I told the Magic Mirror.  I had not visited the Magic Mirror in ages, but I knew just where to find it.  Overwhelmed with adrenaline, I practiced till 2 AM.  I did the same thing every night for a week.  My favorite song was The Year of the Cat by Al Stewart.  It wasn't a Disco song, but I didn't care.  I loved this song. 

She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow till your sense of which direction
completely disappears

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, "I feel my life
just like a river running through"

In the Year of the Cat...

This was my song; no other song would do.  I loved the line "I feel my life just like a river running through."  After wandering for three years without direction, I had the weirdest feeling my life was finally headed somewhere.  Every time I heard that line, my sixth sense suggested I was on the verge of something important.  It felt like things were finally breaking my way.  Well, maybe not everything.  As I practiced in the mirror to Year of the Cat, I had bittersweet dreams of holding Elena in my arms.  Memories of Sarah, Rachel and Katie too, the ones who got away.  However, things were looking up.  Don't ask me how I knew, but my intuition was convinced something unusual was about to happen.  Indeed, something unusual did happen, but it was not what I was hoping for.

I bombed out.

Wednesday, April 13, 1977, Age 27, the lost years

TEACHING MY FIRST CLASS

I made my teaching debut on Wednesday, April 13.  Since Rosalyn had asked for something new, using steps I had learned from Patsy Swayze, I made up a dance combination specifically to please her.  I was proud because it was a clever pattern.  Not too hard, not too easy.  After a week of constant practice, I was psyched and raring to go. 

Rosalyn's class had 30 students, an impressive total, especially compared to my original Disco class with just eight people.  That was three years ago, but it seemed a lifetime.  So much had happened to lead me to this pivotal moment.  Rosalyn's students knew me well.  For one thing, I was the best dancer in the class (after three years of practice, one would hope so).  I was also Rosalyn's assistant.  It was not a large role, but Rosalyn found ways for me to help.  For example, whenever a line dance changed direction to face the back of the room, Rosalyn instructed the students to use me as their guide.  Sometimes I would help a student correct a move.  Rosalyn would notice a lady who was struggling and silently nod in her direction.  I would spot the mistake and clear up the confusion.  Small moments like this reinforced my status as Rosalyn's assistant.  However, I wasn't sure how the class would feel about my change in status.  To my relief, the students did not seem to mind when Rosalyn introduced me as the guest instructor.  

I got off to a rocky start.  The easiest way to teach a line dance pattern is for the teacher to have his or her back turned so the students can more easily copy the instructor's feet.  Meanwhile the teacher monitors progress by watching their students' reflection in the mirror.  I knew there were no mirrors in the room at the JCC, but never understood this would be a handicap until it was too late.  I was so used to watching myself in the Magic Mirror that I found it maddening to work blind.  I also had trouble explaining a pattern with my back to the class.  Nor could I monitor their reaction.  Did they understand what I was saying?  Are they doing the pattern correctly?  The absence of eye contact flustered me no end.  Were they actually watching me or did half of them leave in disgust?  Deprived of any feedback, my insecurity took over.  I was so worried Rosalyn's students were disappointed to be stuck with me that I began to stutter.  This lasted on and off for five minutes.  I had never stuttered in my life, but this was not a normal night.  This was supposed to be my big break. 

Despite my overwhelming anxiety, I forced myself to continue.  At the five minute mark, I could not take flying blind anymore.  I had to see their faces, so I turned around and told a stupid joke.  "Two dance instructors had a baby boy.  What were his first words?  'Ready, and...'"  To my chagrin, no one got it at first.  The students turned to look at each other like 'huh?', then out of pity they snickered a little.  Just hearing their voices calmed me down considerably.  At least they didn't boo.  That eased my tension, so I turned my back and resumed teaching.  Five minutes later I looked over my shoulder again and noticed with relief that this time they were smiling.  Since this probably meant they were starting to get the routine, I felt better.  This would be a good time to play the music.  

This was my big moment.  Ever since my graduate school failure, I had been drifting.  After all my disappointment during the Lost Years, tonight I hoped to find something I was good at.  With my anticipation mounting, I walked over to the phonograph.  Just as the needle hovered over my record, I heard the door fly open while some crazy guy burst into the room waving his arms frantically.

"This is a bomb threat!!  Everyone get out of this room NOW!  Hurry!"

I estimate the interruption took place a split second before the needle touched the record.  That is how exact the timing was.  And what did I think at the time?  Was I terrified by the threat?  No.  I thought of Manimal.  I had absolutely no idea what this interruption was supposed to mean, but the shock of seeing my fondest dream go down the drain was equivalent to the 'Weirdness' of being seized by Manimal.  In a state of shock, I carefully lifted the needle and put it back in its resting place.  Was I scared?  No.  I did not believe the man for a moment.  A bomb threat?  Oh, please, how ridiculous.  Convinced the threat was a prank, I just stood there staring at the record player deciding what to do.  I was so disappointed to see my big moment ruined, I was in suspended animation.   As a result it took me five, maybe even ten seconds to snap back to reality.  When the sensible side of my brain finally kicked back in, I decided the responsible thing would be to tell the class to leave.  Looking up from the record player, my mouth dropped when I realized I was the only person still in the room.  There was no one in sight!  Even Rosalyn was gone.  I was surprised to discover everyone but me took this nonsense so seriously.  However, this was the Jewish Community Center after all.  The students had every right to heed the warning.

So there I was standing alone in this giant room feeling like the world's biggest chump.  I could not believe I was the only person left in that room.  How could this happen?  Seriously, my hand was one inch from playing the song when this happened.  Why does stuff like this keep happening to me?  Was this some sort of ugly Cosmic Joke?  All my hopes and dreams had just been crushed.  Crestfallen, I put my record back in its jacket and trudged outside.  This was a truly cruel moment.  I had just bombed out in my very first dance class.

Wednesday, April 13, 1977, the lost years

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT

Roughly a million thoughts raced through my mind as I walked to the car.  I am a firm believer in omens.  Indeed, this three-year Dance Path began when I noticed Vanessa's name in the dedication of the Mistress Book.  "To Vanessa, who's sorry now?" 

As a result, I had just gambled the last three years of my life on the hunch that God had guided me to the book's suggestion on dance classes.  Now I was here tonight because I believed in omens.  I was convinced Elena's off-hand comment, "You should be a dance teacher", had been a sign from God. 

That is when a very strange memory struck me.  I had gone to the Dance Class from Hell due to a powerful omen only to suffer one humiliation after another.  I remembered feeling like God had deliberately set me up for failure.  Now I had the exact same feeling about tonight.  God had deliberately set me up for failure.  What else besides the Hidden Hand of God could create timing as precise as that needle stopping in mid-air?

Success was so close I could taste it between my two lips only to see it snatched away. 

Then another strange thought crossed my mind.  If there was one major characteristic to my Dance Path, it was "Weirdness".  Mistress Book, Stalled Car.  Drag Queen.  Dance class from Hell.  River Oaks Seven, Gay Siberia, Farmhouse, Manimal, Phoney Baloney, Rachel's phone call.  And now this bizarre bomb threat at the worst possible moment.  Shaking my head in consternation, sometimes this life of mine was too weird for words. 

Then I had another thought.  In the past, every time something had gone wrong, I had eventually overcome the obstacle.  Not only that, every time I was about to quit my Dance Path, something had happened to make me decide to continue.  So why should I feel so hopeless?  This incident was not my fault.  I imagined Rosalyn would let me try again.  At with that, my spirits lifted.  Knowing God, this was probably just another Karmic Test.  I suppose I was getting used to it by now. 

When I reached the parking lot, I found the dance students huddled together for security.  I rolled my eyes in mild disgust and smiled wryly.  Did they really believe the building was going to explode any second?  From the looks on their faces, that is exactly what they expected.  Chuckling to myself, I went to my car to put my Disco records away.  Then for lack of anything better to do, I joined the group as they anxiously awaited the fireworks.  Five more minutes passed.  Finally someone said it was probably a false alarm.  Oh really??  I suppose I should have been ashamed of myself for not taking this more seriously, but my intuition suggested this incident was more about making me miserable and less about the historic harassment of the Jewish people.

At this point, the group visibly relaxed.  With a deep sigh, I assumed everyone would go home now.  However I was wrong.  One of the students spoke up.  "Hey, Rick, let's finish the class out here!"

Several people quickly agreed.  "Come on, Rick, show us that pattern again!"

My spirits perked up.  "Really??"

They all smiled at me.  "Yeah, let's do the class out here!  We liked that pattern."

I smiled and said, "Okay, I'm game if you are."

I looked at Rosalyn for permission.  She smiled and nodded.

The class quickly got in the mood.  Since April is one of the few months in Houston that is pleasant, for the next 40 minutes I conducted class out in the parking lot.  We never went back inside because they locked the doors.  Suddenly I could do not wrong.  Since we had no music, I got them to call out the pattern along with me as we practiced.  Every time I said, "Ready and...", now they laughed like this was the funniest joke in the world.  Since there was no music, I persuaded them to hum the tune to 'Dancing in the Moonlight' as we did the routine on the pavement.  That did the trick.  The group was so proud of themselves for turning lemons to lemonade.  It was an odd night to be sure, but we ended up having a lot of fun.  I will say one thing.  After the bomb threat, I wasn't nervous anymore.  I made a several quips that got a laugh and teased people about their two left feet.  To my great relief, things worked out after all.  At the end, I shook the hand of every person and thanked them for sticking around.

After everyone was gone, Rosalyn came up and said, "Good job, Rick!"  After giving me a big hug, she stepped back and looked me in eye.  "Guess what?  You're really good at this.  You are a natural!"  

Tears of gratitude filled my eyes.  I wasn't ashamed to let Rosalyn see the tears roll down my face.  It had been a long time since I had tasted success.  Recalling the shame of being thrown out of graduate school, this moment was important to me.  I felt very emotional. 

"Thank you so much for letting me do this, Rosalyn.  It really means a lot to me."

Rosalyn smiled and nodded.  She knew about my problems in graduate school.  "You are more than welcome.  See you next week." 

And just like that, my Lost Years were over.  This was the night I found my direction.  I knew where I was headed now.

THE LOST YEARS

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