FORWARD

"Spin" is one of my favorite words. 

In Basketball, 'spin' on a basketball bounce pass makes the ball take a weird curve to magically hit the hands of another player who is seemingly out of reach.

In Billiards, 'spin' allows the cue ball to magically curve right past all sorts of obstacles to reach its intended target.  Or the use of proper 'angles' creates other seemingly impossible shots.

Another word for cue ball 'spin' is 'english'.  I love that!  By using clever 'English', you can get out of all kinds of jams that have nothing to do with billiards and pool tables.

1986 - THE FINAL BLOW OF A MARRIAGE

OUR WEDDING PICTURES

I married my first wife Pat in November 1984. I met Pat at the studio.  Unfortunately, the marriage only lasted 17 months.  In that brief time, Pat was a big part of the studio and taught classes there as well.

As you can see from the picture, Pat was a lovely woman. It should also be obvious from my smile that I was very happy as the wedding approached.  We married for all the right reasons - we were in love.  

This particular picture is important to our story.  Like several other photographs  you will see, this picture once belonged to a poster that hung on a wall at the dance studio.  Pictures such as this one became the focal point of a very ugly public argument that took place between Pat and myself at the dance studio in early 1986.

Back in the days before the Internet arrived, I used to hang pictures of my students on a wall of the studio. The tradition began with the 1982 Halloween Party.  A man named Jim Fogo took some great pictures at the event for his own fun.  Then he gave me some copies.

I decided to put the best pictures on a poster I bought at Texas Art Supply, put on the plastic cover and hang it up on the wall at the studio.

After their divorce in 1959, my parents saw each other 2 more times in 40 years: high school graduation and wedding day.  This picture was part of the disputed Wedding Poster that Pat and I fought over.

As I watched my dance students gather round and laugh, I realized how much they appreciated the gesture.  I smiled with pride. That was the start of my tradition to make posters for each major studio event.

I would hang each collage on the wall just like a third-grade teacher might put up pictures of her own kids.  Each event resulted in a poster of say 30 pictures. One poster might be pictures from a Halloween Party, another might be from a trip to the Winchester Club, and a third poster from a ski trip.  You get the idea. 

One important poster on the studio wall contained pictures from our November 1984 Wedding Day.  In addition to pictures of my parents, the poster also contained pictures of Pat's parents, brother, and grandparents.  The bulk of the poster were pictures of our Reception at the studio later the same evening.  It was a big dance party.

The people at the Wedding Reception were my closest friends at the studio.  They were the people I had met through the dance studio and had grown close to over the first five years of my dance career.

These pictures were very special to me.  

Pat moved out of my house in April 1986.  Pat left without telling me, but truth be told, I was greatly relieved.  We were both very unhappy.

Shortly after Pat moved out, she decided there was something that was still troubling her.  Figuring an ambush would be a better way to confront me rather than a simple phone call, one morning Pat came early to the studio. 

Pat knew I would be there to participate in the Whip Society dance class.  She obviously had been waiting for me because Pat intercepted me in the parking lot just as I got out of the car.   

The moment I saw her face, I groaned.  From that look, sure enough, this was going to be another fight.  I will simply say that we fought all the time. 

So, Pat, what is it this time?

As we stood in the parking lot, Pat explained to me that she was upset about our wedding pictures hanging on the studio wall.  Pat told me she bitterly resented the pictures on the wall that showed the two of us displaying 'affection' towards each other  (this wedding picture on the right was part of the Wedding Poster that Pat objected to.)  

Pat said our marriage had been a sham, a charade.  Now that our divorce was imminent, I had no right to continue to display these disgraceful pictures.

I could see that Pat was clearly worked up on this issue. I did not know what brought on this mood; I hadn't seen or talked to her in several days.  However I immediately bristled at the tone of her voice and her demanding approach.  I thought she was completely out of line, so I said no. 

Pat grew angrier.  She demanded that I take the plastic cover off the frame, rip out the offensive pictures and tear them up so no human being would ever be reminded of the falsehood of our marriage.   In essence, Pat wanted to erase as many traces of the existence of our marriage as possible.

This is my long-time friend Carol Gafford. Carol was one of my guests at the wedding.  This picture was part of the Wedding Poster.

I stared at the woman in disbelief.  "What gives you the right to dictate to me what I am going to do in my own studio?"

The argument continued.  I told Pat these pictures were important to me.  I added that I paid the rent and that it was my studio, not hers.  Those pictures were property of the studio.  I added she had no right to tell me how to run my studio or my business or, now that we were separated, my life either. 

My words fell on deaf ears.  When Pat got in a mood like this, I knew from experience that she was relentless.  I felt like no matter what I said, it was a waste of time.  Pat would never give up till she got her way.

That said, I wasn't in the mood to give in.  She had no right to tell me what to do at my place of business.  Those pictures were part of studio history.

Pat was not happy at my refusal to budge.  "I object to the pictures of us.  We had a false marriage.  I don't want these pictures hanging on the wall for the world to be fooled into thinking we actually cared for each other.  Take them down, Rick, or I will rip them down myself."

"If you touch those pictures, I will call the police.  You have no legal right to tell me what I can or cannot do at the studio.  You can ask, you can negotiate, you can persuade, but you cannot order me to do your bidding."

Pat disagreed.  She wanted her pictures removed so no one would ever be reminded of our shameful marriage. She wanted the evidence erased.  "I am asking you politely to take the pictures down now."

I shook my head no. Since I had a class to teach, I started moving toward the studio.  Pat walked right along beside me.  Why waste precious arguing time?

Like always, we went back and forth. I refused again to take the pictures of our wedding off the studio wall.  Pat told me to rethink that position.

I told her all of those posters were important to me because my friends and family were in those pictures.  If she didn't like them, then don't look.

I added that I wasn't ashamed of the pictures showing affection between us in the least.  Now that we were on the subject, I told Pat I didn't agree with her position that our marriage was shameful.  I loved her when I married her.

Joanne Neher and Robert Neighbours

It was true I had my doubts when we got married, but the optimist in me believed we could work through our issues.  Sad to say, we did not conquer the demons.  But I knew in my heart I had done the best I could until the fighting wore me down.  Now I just couldn't take the fighting any more.

I reminded Pat for the umpteenth time I was sorry our marriage had failed, but that I was not ashamed that I had married her.  If she felt shame, that was her right, but I had a right to my feelings too. She had her space and I had my space.  I wasn't going to let her tell me how to run 'my space'.

I doubt Pat heard a word I said. She did not care about my position. The moment I stopped speaking, Pat launched into her next tirade.  For the tenth time, she explained that the pictures offended her deeply.  She demanded that I take them down if I had even the slightest respect for her feelings. The pictures offended her.  Therefore, I should take them down.

This argument is an accurate snapshot of how much of our marriage was conducted.  Pat would get unhappy about something and chew me out.  Since I usually disagreed with her, we would argue. 

Pat never gave in.  Some times I did give in even when I still disagreed with her.  I would give in for a simple reason - unless I gave in, the same argument would continue for days.

We never had a harmonious resolution to a single fight.  If she didn't get her way, Pat would just push harder.  The woman had the most powerful will of anyone I have ever met.

Debbie Crittendon and Alan Brown

Early in the relationship I had backed down a couple times to appease her, but quickly learned that got me nowhere.  I had a backbone all along; I had simply been experimenting with ways to make this crazy relationship work.  

Finally I got disgusted with appeasement.  One day I stood up to Pat on some issue.  That is when Pat discovered I could be just as willful and stubborn as she was.  Once I decided to stand toe to toe with her and fight back, that's when the sparks began to fly. 

And what ended the arguments?  Who knows?  Probably another argument.  Something new would come along that irritated Pat more and we would switch to arguing about the new topic. 

Since Pat never understood the importance of 'compromise', once I stopped giving in, our marriage became an endless argument.

WHAT WERE THE ARGUMENTS ABOUT?

What did we argue about?  Women at the studio, mostly. 

The slightest smile at another woman could be grounds for a week of getting chewed out.   The reader has my absolute word there were no affairs, no girlfriends and no flirting.  There were NO OTHER WOMEN.  That is the absolute truth. 

But I will admit I did smile at my students when the situation called for it and that included women.

Since I believed strongly that 'smiling' was an important part of my teaching, this was a no-win problem.  I knew in my heart I was not making a pass at anyone. I also felt I had the right to show warmth and friendship to my students.  If I didn't have a heart and care about my students as people, then I was in the wrong profession.  Now I wanted to be allowed to do my job.

I was not going to give in on this issue.  I bitterly resisted any attempt on Pat's part to muzzle my ability to smile, laugh, make stupid jokes and have fun in dance class just because she was uncomfortable. 

It boils down to Control.  No one likes to be controlled or told what to do.  If you are a kid or a prisoner or in the Army, well, tough luck.  You better do what you are told or suffer the consequences.   But a marriage is supposed to be built on mutual respect, not 'do it my way or else'.  Let's say you are a car racer and your new wife says she is very uncomfortable with you racing cars because they are dangerous.  And you look at her and say, 'But you knew this was important to me before we married..."

I was a dance teacher long before I met Pat and a successful one at that.  I resented bitterly being told how to conduct myself in public.  I considered practically every suggestion on this issue an insult.   But Pat never eased up.  We just kept arguing.

Oddly enough, not one soul at the studio had any idea how hard we fought.  This was our own private dirty secret.  In public Pat was a charming woman.  It was only behind closed doors that she began to breathe fire.

Over time, our patience with each other grew thin.  Our arguments were civil at first, but 17 months of arguing about the same thing with no progress has a way of wearing a person down.  I honestly couldn't take it any more.
 
Towards the end, the arguments became so ferocious that we both realized we needed to part before things turned physical. 

You know how they say that as time goes by, you start to remember the good things more than the bad?  Wrong.  20 years later, my only enduring memory of our marriage is that we had one constant argument after another. 

I can't even remember where we took our honeymoon.  All I can remember were the fights. Today's Wedding Picture fight was no different than all the rest.  In my mind, it was just another reason for Pat to argue with me.

Here is my close friend Carole Holmes.
Do you see me smiling?  That smile could be grounds for a week of arguing.

My friends Margie Saibara and John Varvaro

Now that you have been given the background context, maybe you can see why I was so determined not to back down to her today.  As we walked down the sidewalk, we continued to argue... and argue.

Once we entered the studio, Pat immediately began to behave.  I shook my head in disgust.  Pat had this amazing 'Southern Lady' persona that had everyone fooled. Soft-spoken, sweet, gentle Pat.

What an act!  It drove me crazy that Pat got away with it, but I saw no point in bad-mouthing the woman to our friends.  Let's just get the divorce and go our separate ways.  Besides, I was grateful that the argument was over for now.  Be thankful for small favors. 

Now it was time to teach.  A year earlier, my advanced dancers (who by this time were also my friends) had helped me form a group called Whip Society.  I was the guest teacher today.  The people here today were the same people who were in the Wedding Poster.  Perhaps their presence had something to do with Pat's bad mood.  

Pat wasn't the only one who was angry.  I was angry too. The disgust over an endless 17-month series of insane, stupid arguments just like this one had robbed me of all patience. 

I set the coffee down and turned back to face her.   I observed Pat balling her hands into fists.  She clearly wanted to punch me. 

A strange idea crossed my mind.  I am ordinarily not much of a risk-taker, but maybe it was time to take a gamble.  Maybe I could teach Pat a lesson. 

"Do you want to hit me, Pat?  Okay, here I am.  Go ahead and swing."

That's all the encouragement she needed.  With an open hand, Pat reared back and slapped the absolute crap out of me.  

My head spun sideways with the blow.  I was stunned senseless for a moment.  But I didn't fall.  After I regained my balance, I grinned back at her in defiance.

"Did you like that?  Did it make you feel good?"

I had been angry before, but now I was livid.  Pat was angry.  I was angry.  Pat was staring fire at me and I glared right back at her.
 
"You want to hit me again?  Be my guest.  Hit me again!"

This time Pat got her body into it.  Pat pulled her hand back, wound up, then slapped me again with all her force.  My face was turned around by the force of the second blow, but I again stood my ground.

Despite my burning face, I remained defiant.  "Pat, you can hit me just as many times as you want, but I am still not going to take those pictures down!!"

I had invited Pat to hit me for a specific reason - I had seen an opening.  Everyone has a public persona and a private one.  Pat's public persona was soft-spoken, sweet Southern girl charm.  Throughout our separation, she had used her Sweet Side to draw sympathy.  I was sick and tired of being portrayed as the 'Bad Guy' when nothing could be further from the truth. I saw this as the perfect opportunity to let the world know Pat wasn't as sweet as she pretended to be.
 
Thanks to my gamble, the dark side of Pat had just made its public debut.  Even though I was in pain, I was secretly thrilled!   The Mr. Hyde side of Pat had just shown up.  My friends had witnessed the same angry woman I dealt with in private all the time.  Finally everyone in the group had seen how ruthless this woman could be. 

Plus I was angry too.  Furious.  I yelled, "C'mon, Pat,  you want some more of me?  Come and get it!" 

Pat was more than happy to oblige.  She slapped the crap out of me for a third time.  This time, however, her wedding ring had gotten twisted on her finger.  Now her wedding ring raked the side of my face and left a deep gash.  Blood immediately ran down my cheek from a five-inch cut.  

Why she was still wearing her wedding ring was beyond me, but the symbolism was fascinating.

SPIN CONTROL

However, the slugging incident had changed the playing field.  A much DIFFERENT side of Pat had been exposed to public scrutiny.  Maybe... just maybe... she wasn't so sweet after all.

My friends had seen first-hand just how angry Pat could be.  Pat had been totally out of control.  Maybe Rick was right when he said Pat would not stop arguing.  Maybe Rick was not such a jerk after all...

Alone in the dark, I had this happy thought to help ease the pain...

I expected the world would finally grasp what I had been dealing with in private for the past seventeen months.

BACKFIRE

But my dreams didn't work out that way.  The incident totally backfired on me.  I would soon find out just how badly I had underestimated Pat.

Shortly after the beating, Pat taught me a lesson in Spin Control that I would never forget as long as I lived.

While I brooded in silence at home, practically from the moment she got home, Pat was on the phone to explain her side of the story to every man and woman who would take her call and listen.  

THE SPIN VERSION OF THE EVENT

Pat passed the word to her girlfriends about how hurt she was at my refusal to take down the pictures.  Why was Rick so insensitive?  Why couldn't Rick see how much pain Pat was in over the pictures?  Those pictures hurt her terribly!

Then Pat told everyone how Rick had egged her on to hit him, which of course was true. 

Somehow in the retelling of the story, it turned out that Rick had thrown the coffee directly at her.  Even though Pat avoided getting drenched by sidestepping the danger, she was furious at Rick because he had tried to hurt her!  What if that hot coffee had hit her face? 

No wonder Pat was angry!   Once I began to I taunt her to hit me, that pushed her over completely over the edge.  Anybody would be provoked to fight back!  Rick's hurtful words made her hit him! 

This entire horrible incident had been Rick's fault.  Shame on Rick.

Now her girlfriends began to spread the word.

HE SAID - SHE SAID

My friend listened to what I said, then stared back at me.  Now he looked shocked.  My version of the story was so radically at odds with what he believed had happened that now he didn't know who to believe.

Finally he spoke up.  "Does anyone know what you just said besides me?"

"No, I guess not."

"You may not like me saying this, but I am having a hard time believing you after being brain-washed by Pat's version for an entire week."

"We argued about me smiling at some woman in dance class for crying out loud!  For an entire week, we would go round and round about some stupid simple gesture that no ordinary wife would ever give a second thought to!

How on earth can someone be so jealous and so incapable of listening to reason?  Those arguments were torture!  Over a simple smile!  How do I make a living if I have to worry about showing any human warmth whatsoever?

I tried as hard as I humanly could to make her happy, but I failed.  Okay, I accept that.  But what did I do to deserve being made to look like a monster in this divorce?  Even before the slapping fight, Pat was spilling her guts to anyone who will listen. 'Poor Pat. Look what Rick did to her!'  That is insanity.

I stood there letting her hit me because I wanted the whole world to see the angry woman behind the mask."

Donna David-Campbell. 
At my wedding, but no longer my friend.

GUILTY

The  humiliation of being battered senseless in front of my friends was now compounded by the humiliation of being licked in the court of public opinion as well.  Everyone had pretty much made up their minds and sided with Pat. 

Donna Campbell (pictured) didn't even see what happened, but sprang to her defense nonetheless.  Donna spread the word to anyone who would listen that I was responsible for the incident.  I had gotten what I deserved.

When I heard what Donna had said, I felt betrayed.  I was astonished - and hurt - that women like Donna and others in the group had rushed to defend Pat and help spin the story in her favor.  In fact, Pat's explanation was so plausible that even my male friends pretty much assumed I had to have to done something wrong to deserve that kind of punishment.

Hell hath no fury like the wrath of a woman scorned.  In the end, even though Pat had belted me three times without my laying a hand on her or cursing her in any way, the incident was labeled my fault.  People decided Pat was innocent because I had forced her to hit me.   Shame on me.

SHAME

"I see my reputation is at stake, My fame is shrewdly gored."

Said by Achilles, speaking to his comrade Ulysses after being fatally wounded by Paris at the gates of Troy.  Once considered invincible, it hurts Achilles to acknowledge his own mortality.

As for me, there was no question that Pat's arrow had found my Achilles Heel.  Hmm.  I guess she proved I wasn't the only 'Archer' in the family.  I had been completely and utterly vanquished in the Arena of Public Opinion. 

I quickly left the party.  I couldn't face these people any more.  As I drove home, the humiliation coursed through my mind and body.  I physically ached from the realization this incident had made me look foolish and cruel.  

That night I found myself spiraling into a deep, dark depression.  People no longer respected me.  My self-esteem had been shattered.  My pride was deeply wounded by the embarrassment. 

Worst of all, exactly like my friend had predicted, my friends had turned against me.  They were my friends before they were Pat's friends.  Now I was the Bad Guy.

It was one thing to fix a leak, but it was impossible to fix a dam break.  Among my former circle of friends, word of what Pat said had spread like wildfire.  No one stood up for me because even the people who had witnessed what had happened were no longer sure of what they had seen.  Her version of the events planted enough doubt in their minds that even my closest friends were confused. 

Yes, there was coffee on the floor.  That they knew.  But no one had seen me throw it.... and no one had NOT seen me throw it.
 
No one had even been looking.  Maybe I did throw the coffee and Pat had jumped back to avoid it.

And yes, they had seen me taunt Pat to go ahead and hit me.  There was no doubt about that either.

Furthermore, no one had a clue what the fight was really about.  People were totally baffled over what could cause venom of that magnitude.  Only my friend who had taken the time to listen had a rough idea.

While some people reserved judgment, others jumped onto Pat's Bandwagon wholeheartedly.  A good example was Donna David.  Donna had met her husband John Campbell at my studio. She had taken dozens of classes from me.  Donna had been to my wedding.  But obviously this wasn't enough to create any loyalty to me.

Furthermore Donna had not been at the studio to see a thing that happened.  But, like many people who swallow Spin hook, line and sinker, Donna was too busy to dig for the truth.  She definitely did not bother to call me to hear my side of the story.

Instead, Donna became a ringleader for Pat's Propaganda Club.  At the party that night, I heard Donna was Pat's biggest defender.  All week long, Donna had worked the phones relentlessly in Pat's favor. 

Nor was Donna alone; she was just the most vicious.

My friends Risa Beckham and Jim Ponder

I was astonished - and deeply hurt - at the number of people who had once been my friends that now rushed to defend Pat.

These people knew me, but I got not one single benefit of the doubt.  

Repeat: A woman had belted a man 3 times over wedding pictures.  The man did not threaten her, did not raise a hand to attack or to defend, did not call her names, nor did he curse her in any way.  Nevertheless the incident was labeled his fault.  Everyone felt sorry for Pat.  Poor Pat.  Look what Poor Pat had to deal with.  Rick asked to be hit.  Pat didn't want to hit him.  All Rick had to do was take down some pictures.  Rick forced her to hit him.

Poor Pat?  The irony was astounding.  This woman had beaten the crap out of me, then magically turned the event around to make me look like a complete fool.  Now that was impressive 'Spin' to be sure.

Pat wasn't 'poor' anything.  With Pat's Spin Machine in full gear, her interpretation of the events stood unchallenged as the Public Version of what had happened.  Pat emerged from the smoke a complete Victor.  

And what about me?   I felt like a complete fool that I had not mounted any kind of defense.  I was a private person in those days and totally unprepared for this kind of public scorn.  Soon my shame turned into depression.  I was in some of the worst pain of my life. 

I was a complete loser.  I was at the lowest point of my life.

REHABILITATION

Fortunately, there were no other long-term consequences from this ordeal.  It helped that the only one who was actually hurt was me.

I doubt I lost many students at the studio.  Like I said earlier, the studio itself was pretty insulated.  I am sure people heard rumors, but realistically since I was the only victim and my studio was still a good place to learn to dance, they didn't really care.

Once Pat disappeared from my life, people began to forgive and forget.  I did lose some friends permanently, but in time the rest began to welcome me back in the fold. There were a lot of people out there who had been through a divorce of their own.  They knew that things are not always very pretty despite the best of intentions.

My biggest problem was finding a way to overcome my pain.  I have never felt so much pain in my life.  Fortunately, Life did throw me a safety net.  An old friend - Dancing - came to my rescue.  Dancing literally saved my soul. 

It is a marvelous story of redemption if you wish to read it - 201 Nights

LESSON LEARNED

If an event like this were to ever happen again, I would not waste a single second posting my side of the story on the Internet.

Pat had a right to be disappointed.  Heck, I was disappointed too.  But I didn't see any reason for her to take revenge. 

We had our problems, but I never did anything cruel to deserve what she did to me.  Yes, there were arguments, but there were no affairs, no physical violence, nor any threats of that nature.  

We were very happy at the start, but over time we found out how incompatible we were.  Since we couldn't get along, it made sense to separate.   Was that a reason for Pat to shame me before every person I cared about?

REPUTATION

Pat taught not only me a valuable lesson about defending your reputation, but now thanks to this story, she has taught you the same lesson. 

Pat delivered one of the most important lessons I have ever learned - stand up for yourself or suffer the consequences.

This article stands as evidence that I have indeed learned to speak up in the court of public opinion.  In this regard, I am in Pat's eternal debt.  She taught me well.

Experience is a Comb that Life throws you after you have already lost your hair. 

What a shame I didn't have this knowledge 20 years ago back when it would have done me some good.  Let my ordeal serve as a first-hand example of that piece of irony.

By the way, out of the 24 people present on the day of the Final Blow, five of them are still active in my life.  If anyone doubts my version of the events, go ask them yourself. 

Tom Easley, Carol Gafford, Mike Fagan, Ted Jones, Margie Saibara. 

If nothing else, I imagine they can confirm that Pat's clothing was completely free of coffee.