MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER FIVE:

END OF AN ERA

Written by Rick Archer 

On Monday morning Victoria called me at home.  The moment she began ranting about my 'Dance Curse', I could tell she had flipped out during the night.  Given that the Karate Chop incident was my fifth performing accident in a row, Victoria accused me of being cursed.  Gee, thanks a lot.  But then Victoria decided she was cursed too.  Convinced her three accidents were a sign that God was angry at her, Victoria decided to chuck it all.  She was done with Annabelle's on Sunday, she was done with at Pistachio on Friday, she was completely done with performing.  Since she no longer wished to perform, she was done with our private lessons as well.  Then she summed it up. 

"I am done with dancing period.  From now on the only place I will dance is during my classes at the studio.  I still want to teach on Tuesday and Thursday in September.  And don't get any ideas.  I still haven't made up my mind about our relationship."

I groaned.  Not only was Victoria determined to hang on to her classes, she also intended to keep me under her thumb.  Frustrated, I wondered how I would ever get my freedom back.  That was not the only thing that bothered me.  The Karate Chop felt like a death knell for my dance program.  Disco was already on its death bed thanks to John Travolta's Country dance movie.  Now my so-called business partner was abandoning me at the worst possible time.  Instinct warned me that losing Victoria's presence at the weekly social events would send a terrible message to the students.  Given how the story of the Victoria's lethal accident spread like wildfire, I feared people would take this as a sign that it was time to move on in September.  If Victoria was quitting, then maybe they should quit too.  That really made me angry.  Victoria's timing could not be worse.  Since I expected her September classes would be small, what was the point of Victoria sticking around when it was obvious her heart was no longer in it? 

We needed to part.  Let's get this over with.  The sooner, the better.

MONDAY EVENING, AUGUST 27 SOLVING THE CLEAR LAKE PROBLEM

On Saturday I had a long talk with the Clear Lake Seven.  The following night Victoria came close to sending her friend Benita to the hospital with the Karate Chop.  Now it was Monday, August 27.   At the end of her phone call this morning, Victoria had said she no longer had confidence in me.  Victoria's incessant needling about my Dance Curse left me very shaken.  Although our latest accident had nothing to do with Acrobatics, the thought that I had a Dance Curse hanging over me did terrible things to my confidence. 

Last night's Karate Chop mishap reminded me how leery I had been about teaching difficult acrobatics to the Clear Lake group.  Due to my fears of seeing one of the Clear Lake women get hurt, I had been reluctant to continue in the first place.  Now I feared my Curse might extend beyond performing.  If one of those women got hurt, I would never forgive myself.

Since the latest accident had shown that being extra careful did no good, maybe I should cancel the upcoming class down in Clear Lake.  One phone call to Tommy and Hazel would do the trick.  However, I could not bear to disappoint my friends, so I held off.  Maybe I could find someone to demonstrate, thereby reducing the risk. 

Later that night, I met with my Disco Acrobatics class.  Half of these students had been at Annabelle's last night, so the Karate Chop was the big topic of conversation.  As I overheard their conversation, my paranoia increased.  I was about to teach some fairly easy Acrobatics to my students tonight, but felt suddenly gun-shy.  I had never found a woman to replace Joanne.  Ever since Joanne quit helping me on Mondays in April, this class had become difficult to teach.  Without a woman to demonstrate the move, it was hard for the ladies to learn an acrobatic move when they did not know what it was supposed to look like.  Furthermore, if I struggled to teach easy acrobatics to this group, how would I be able to safely teach a difficult move like Scissors down in Clear Lake?

As I pondered my problem, it occurred to me to ask one of the women in tonight's class to help me teach the Clear Lake class next Saturday.  The Clear Lake women would definitely benefit from seeing a Scissors demonstration.  That thought helped me get a grip on my fears.  Although learning Scissors would be difficult, it was not a dangerous move if done properly.  The biggest danger was a mistake based on not seeing how it worked ahead of time.  A demonstrator would solve that problem.  If I did everything in my power to ensure their safety, what more could the seven ladies expect from me?  However, finding someone on short notice would be tough. 

Who could I get to help me with the difficult upcoming Clear Lake acrobatics lesson??  Before class started, I asked five different women.  They all said no. 

"This is Labor Day Weekend, I'm going to visit my parents in Austin."

"This is Labor Day Weekend, I'm going to the beach."

"Saturday night?  I've got a date."

"Sorry, I have a wedding to attend."

"I have tickets to the Astros baseball game."

And so it went.  I figured it was a lost cause.  Now that I gave it some thought, I was asking a lot.  Why would any woman give up her free time on a Saturday night to volunteer for a dance class?

Ten minutes into class, a young woman named Jennifer walked in.  Jennifer was new to the class.  She had joined at the start of August.  Jennifer did not have partner, so she took turns dancing with two men who also lacked a partner.  I wondered why I had not thought of Jennifer.  Probably because she had not been in the room.  Out of sight, out of mind.  I did not know Jennifer at all.  How could I?  Jennifer had never said a word to me.  I had complimented her several times, but that was the extent of it.  I was certainly impressed with her skill.  When it came to acrobatics, Jennifer reminded me of Joanne.  Jennifer was fearless.  Unlike some of the other women in class, she never seemed to worry about getting hurt.  Hmm.  Jennifer would be perfect.  After class ended, I asked Jennifer if she would mind helping me next Saturday. 

Jennifer hesitated.  "Do you mean Saturday as in this coming Labor Day Weekend Saturday?"

Oh, great, here we go again.  "Uh, yeah, if you have plans, then don't worry about it."

"Yes, I was planning to leave town to see my parents in Dallas.  But this sounds like fun.  I can always leave Sunday morning to see my parents and come back Monday evening.  Sure, I'll do it.  Besides, I have a project due at work.  It makes sense to stick around and use Saturday to make some headway, then go dancing with you afterwards.  What time would you need me?"

"We should begin the trip down to Clear Lake at 4 pm."

Jennifer nodded.  "Give me a minute to think about it."

When Jennifer frowned, I grew nervous.  Now what?

"There is one problem.  Where will I meet you?  I work downtown.  Saturday is the only time I ever get any real work done without interruptions, so I prefer to spend the entire day at my office.  That would obligate me to waste an hour driving back home to change.  Any suggestions?"

"I live in the Heights close to downtown.  Since I drive right past the downtown area on my way to Clear Lake, why don't I pick you up at the office on the way?  That will give you an extra hour to work on your project."

"Nice offer, but I don't think it will work.  I work in a skyscraper.  Parking at my building is an issue on Saturdays because you need a special pass.  Then finding my office up in the clouds is a hassle.  Besides, I really don't want to leave my car at the office parking lot on a Saturday night." 

Jennifer paused to think it over.  "How far is your house from downtown?"

"About three miles."

"That's what I thought.  I know where the Heights is.  It might be easier if I simply drive over to your house.  Then we could drive down to Clear Lake together.  Will that work?" 

I raised an eyebrow.  No doubt Jennifer would take one look at my run-down house and sniff just like Victoria did, but I didn't care.  I needed an acrobatics assistant more than I needed to save my pride, so I drew her a map.  And that was that.  I did not give this arrangement another thought all week.  Why not?  Because Victoria drove me crazy all week long.

TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 28 DANCING ON MY OWN WITH GLEN

It was Tuesday morning, August 28.  It was time for my regular Tuesday private lesson with Glen. 

Now that people were getting hurt thanks to my Dance Curse, my Year of Living Dangerously had entered a serious new dimension.  With three accidents in the space of a month, I had become paranoid about someone else getting hurt.  However, my accidents were not the fault of my dance teacher Glen.  His excellent training had been one of the few bright spots in an otherwise miserable year.  I had met Glen at the Pistachio Club back in November 1978.  Starting in 1979, I took a private lesson from Glen once a week.  In the beginning we met on Saturdays, but at his request I switched to Tuesday mornings in April.  This forced me to ask Victoria to join me for lessons on Tuesday mornings.  These lessons had given birth to Victoria's dreams of performing.  They also flamed the fires of our smoldering yet unconsummated love affair. 

The Karate Chop changed everything.  After injuring Benita, Victoria had flipped her lid.  Yesterday morning Victoria had informed me she wanted to quit taking private lessons.  Victoria was so upset, it felt like any interest she had in an affair with me had evaporated.  That was good news.  However, I no longer had someone with whom to continue my dance lessons.  As a result I was faced with taking today's private lesson alone.  Angry at Victoria for leaving me in the lurch, I called her at home early Tuesday morning.

"Look, Victoria, I want you to reconsider yesterday's decision.  There is no way I can find another dance partner during the day who is anywhere near your equal."

Victoria responded, "Well, too bad.  My mind is made up.  I cannot take any more pressure of wondering what's going to go wrong next.  It's my neck on the line, not yours."

"All right, have it your way, but can't you at least go with me today till I find someone else?"

"I already told you my decision.  I canceled daycare, and Stephanie's here at home with me.  Why don't you go dance with Glen by yourself?"

"Victoria, he's... uh... you know, gay.  I don't want to be alone with some gay guy in my arms.  What if he makes a move on me?"

"Oh, good grief, get over yourself.  Glen isn't going to bite.  Besides, you're big enough to stand up for yourself."

Victoria didn't understand the real issue.  I wasn't afraid of Glen, I was afraid of myself.  Dancing with Glen meant I would have to confront my fears that maybe I was secretly gay.  Let me be clear.  I did not think it was 'wrong' to be gay.  However, if I had my druthers, I preferred to be straight.  I knew for a fact that touching Victoria frequently turned me on against my will.  Would the same thing happen with Glen?  I didn't think I was gay, but then I had never danced close in a handsome man's arms before.  Would I get aroused from dancing intimately with Glen??    

Desperation has a way of overcoming fears.  I decided if I was ever going to make a career as a dance teacher, I needed all the training I could get.  After I hung up with Victoria, I called Glen on the phone and explained Victoria's decision to quit.  Would he mind if I came alone?  Glen said he didn't mind at all.  He added this would help because now I would be forced to dance the 'Follow' part occasionally, something I had deliberately avoided so far.  His encouragement helped.  Recalling my recent dance lesson with Charles, I probably could use more experience at dancing the girl's part.  And so, despite my great reluctance, I agreed to give it a try.

I was very uncomfortable dancing with Glen at the start of our first lesson.  Fortunately, once I found I was not overwhelmed with sexual desire, I began to relax.  In fact, my body did not respond to him at all, so eventually I got used to it.  Pretty soon I couldn't care less.  Considering I had spent my entire life avoiding the fear of being gay, I was pleased that facing my fears had paid off this time.

Victoria used to tease that Glen was my separated-at-birth brother.  Victoria had a point.   I had broad shoulders from basketball while Glen had an equally muscular physique from dance training. We looked alike, same age, same height, same hair color, same build, matching beards.  When we danced together, from a distance you could not tell us apart.  We also had matching sarcastic personalities.

Given our similarities, the irony is that I missed a simple way to solve my problems.  I should have fibbed to Victoria how I discovered I was gay while dancing with Glen. 

"Glen and I are dating now.  Au revoir, Victoria, we're through."

Glen might be gay, but he was not effeminate.  On the contrary, Glen was a powerful, confident man who barked at his dance team like a lion tamer.  However, Glen was gentle with me.  I think he sensed that I did not take criticism well, so he was careful not to step on my tender feelings.  

As Silver Linings go, dancing alone with Glen turned out to be a real blessing.  For one thing, we became friends.  Previously Glen had been rather formal with me.  Glen was very fond of Victoria and interacted with her far more than me.  The feeling was mutual; Victoria adored Glen.  However, now that Victoria was gone, things changed.  We continued to be formal at first, but eventually Glen started to tease me about my myriad problems learning to dance.  Glen was sarcastic, but unlike Lance Stevens who liked to put me down, Glen was not biting in his comments.  When I began to laugh at some of his wisecracks, the tension was broken. 

Sad to say, despite the fact that Urban Cowboy was on the horizon, I insisted on learning more Disco.  This was a prime example of my tendency to avoid facing my fears.  Western was coming, but I still pretended Disco would last forever.  Silly me.  Fortunately, learning more Disco was not a complete waste of time.  Once I learned a move, Glen recommended I try learning it again, but this time try dancing it as a 'Follow'.  In other words, Victoria's absence forced me to start learning the woman's role in earnest.

Of course I was terrible.  My friend Charles had complimented me on my improvement as a woman, but when I danced with Glen, I realized I had barely scratched the surface.  It was embarrassing to discover how bad I was.  Awkward, clumsy, impatient, resentful.  Plus I was slow.  I could not keep up with the music, so Glen had to find a slower song to practice with.   However, eventually I improved enough to gain a working knowledge of how it feels to dance the woman's part.  That led to useful insights on how to teach my lady students to follow.  Even better, it helped to feel how Glen led me through the patterns.  Feeling how he tugged me in this direction or nudged me in that direction helped me improve my own leads.  In addition I sensed how exact the timing had to be for a lead to work.  What a difference the timing makes.  Now I had a much better idea how to lead when it was my turn to be the boy again.  It was odd to discover that learning to be a better woman dancer made me a better man.

One day Glen said I was dancing the woman's part very well.  Then he asked if I was ready to begin dancing in heels.  You should have seen my look of horror!  I nearly choked to death because I thought he was serious.  But then he smiled.  Gotcha.  Glen got a huge chuckle out of that.  To my pleasant surprise, I could see my one-on-one training with Glen was making me a much better dancer.  How pathetic... just when my dance career was almost over, I was finally learning my craft.  Sometimes my life really sucked.

TUESDAY night, AUGUST 28 RICK'S 'STAY WITH MICHAEL' SPEECH

I often wondered what Michael was thinking.  As if frustration over Victoria's frequent nocturnal absence had not driven Michael to madness, the Dance Curse had surely put more strain on their marriage.  I could just hear him yelling at her. 

"For Christ's sake, Victoria, will you please stop this idiotic dancing obsession of yours before you kill yourself?  Your daughter needs you at home, I need you at home.  I am begging you to quit the studio and try to make this marriage work again."

Did Michael really say that?  I had no way of knowing, but I wished he would say something.  Victoria was very careful what she told me about Michael.  For that matter, I imagined she was equally careful in what she told him about me.  My theory is that Victoria had a different version for both men.  Since Victoria was able to keep us in the dark, this allowed her to play both men against the other.  As I said, Victoria was a fairly brilliant woman.  She was especially crafty when giving reign to her dark side. 

I strongly suspected Victoria blamed me for trying to lure her away.  If so, nothing could be further from the truth.  I kept hoping Michael would put his foot down and insist Victoria quit the studio.  That way he could be the bad guy and spare me the trouble.  However, that never happened.  Either Michael spoke up and she defied him or Michael was too weak to put his foot down.  I will never know the truth.  What I did know is her fearful reaction to the Karate Chop accident meant this nonsense had to end.  If Michael wouldn't do it, then I would do it myself. 

I stopped breathing.  I did not realize the rift was that serious.  Does Michael really want Victoria to move in with me?  Is Victoria bluffing or telling the truth?  I hated to say it, but she might be right.  What man can tolerate two months of watching his wife flagrantly pursue her dance instructor?  What goes on at night when Victoria comes home one to two hours after classes have ended?  Victoria told him that it was all very innocent, that all we did was sit in her car talking (which was the truth).  But why should Michael believe that?  It might be true that Michael was so fed up that he didn't want Victoria anymore.  Well, that was Victoria's problem, not mine.  However, given her rage, I did not dare say that out loud and hope to leave the coffee shop alive.

"Then get a divorce, Victoria.  That's what grownups do when they have unhappy marriages.  You have a college degree and a teaching certificate.  Keep the house, get a job, receive child support for your daughter.  You will do just fine.  After your divorce, come see me if you still want to.  We can talk about our relationship then [I wasn't serious].  But right now I am looking at three dance accidents in a row.  These accidents are not only frightening, they are weird.  Stuff keeps happening beyond our control.  To me, these bad omens suggest any future relationship is a big mistake.  Don't you see?  The Universe is telling us to walk away!  As far as I'm concerned, we are star-crossed lovers."

I was positive this argument would bring Victoria to her senses.  First her father had told Victoria it wouldn't work.  Now I was telling her it wouldn't work.  Even God was telling her it wouldn't work.  For crying out loud, read the damn tea leaves!  What more did Victoria need to see the light?  However, to my dismay, Victoria stuck to her guns.

"I don't agree with your conclusion.  I still want to be a part of the studio, but right now I am very confused.  Michael says he wants to talk to me over the upcoming Labor Day weekend.  Stephanie is spending the weekend with a friend so we can be alone to hash things out.  Please don't force me to make any decisions until I have my weekend talk."

Oh no.  Not this again.  Haven't I waited long enough?  I wanted to tell Victoria to leave the studio in the worst way.  If so, there was little she could do about it.  What did I have to lose?  The energy on Friday nights was already down to a mere trickle.  The diminished attendance in September would be equally depressing.  Thanks to her Karate Chop decisions, she already had one foot out the door, so why don't I push the other foot out as well?  Losing Victoria would make little difference to the studio, so let's get it over with.

However, before I could speak up, Victoria added more.  "Look, Rick, you owe it to me to see what Michael has to say.  And you don't have the right to make me leave the studio before I'm ready."

That is when I hesitated.  Given her vast contributions to the program, I agreed with Victoria.  She deserved the right to leave on her own terms.  Since I expected her to depart of her own accord following her upcoming talk, I preferred to part on friendly terms. 

"Okay, Victoria, have your Labor Day talk with Michael and call me when you make your decision."

THURSDAY, AUGUST 30, 1979 THURSDAY NIGHT CAR TALK

I didn't argue with Victoria.  In fact, I agreed with her.   As omens go, three accidents bunched so close together was tough to overlook.  I also knew how important her daughter was to her. 

"There's one more thing."

I groaned.  "What is that?"

"I just wanted to remind you I am not going to the Pistachio Club tomorrow night.  Like I said on Tuesday, Michael and I planning to have a long talk over the Labor Day weekend."

"That's fine with me.  Do you intend to return next Friday?"

"Not the way I feel at the moment, but I might change my mind.  I need to give this Dance Curse some more thought and ask for God's guidance."

And with that, Victoria said it was time to head home.  Perhaps the Karate Chop had a silver lining.  Based on the sound of her voice, whatever ardor Victoria once felt for me seemed erased.  Victoria said she and Michael were going to spend the weekend talking over their problems.  With a little soul-searching, maybe she would come to her senses.  If ever there was a perfect time to call it quits, this was it.  Disco was dying, Stephanie was crying, Michael was frying.  If Victoria followed the implications of the Dance Curse to their logical conclusion, she would see her dreams of a future with me were hopeless.  No longer willing to embrace the World of Dance, what was the point of pursuing a dance instructor?  For that reason, I believed my freedom was close at hand.  If so, wonderful.  I wanted to be rid of Victoria so much I could barely see straight.  I no longer cared if she left the studio.  Her classes were certain to be small in September, Annabelle's was gone, probably Pistachio as well, and our private lessons were gone.  Worst of all, her enthusiasm was missing.  Do us both a favor.  Just go.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 31, 1979 BAD NEWS AT THE PISTACHIO CLUB

That observation made me wince.  This conversation had not started well.  What should I say to him?  Michael had not been seen at the Pistachio Club since the end of March.  That meant most of the Friday crowd had no idea she was married.  It did not help that Victoria had a bad habit of taking her ring off on Fridays.  "I don't want to scratch anyone's face when we're dancing..." 

At a loss for words, I muttered, "Don't worry about it, Gus.  Victoria and I are just friends."

Gus gave me a skeptical glance, then waved his hand around the room to call attention to the sparse crowd. 

"Without Victoria here to stir things up, the energy tonight is really low.  Most of our group is talking, not dancing."

"What are they talking about?" 

"At first people wondered why Victoria isn't here, but then the conversation drifted to the future of Disco.  Did you hear that Boccaccio recently closed?"

I frowned.  Since Boccaccio was in another part of town, I had never visited.  I mourned the loss of Boccaccio nevertheless.  I also felt my aggravation increase.  Gus was really getting under my skin with his negativity.  "No, I had not heard.  That is bad news."

"You're telling me.  I am really worried that people are getting tired of Disco.  If so, when will you start teaching Country-Western??"

Teach Western?  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 learning the Cotton Eyed Joe at the Cactus Club three months earlier.  Took me five minutes.  It was so easy Joanne had shown it to me out on the floor.  Based on what I had seen that night, I doubted seriously there was much else to teach. 

"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 off the beaten path.  But it is located right next to where I live.  I go there all the time.  Believe or not, I am a minor celebrity thanks to my Disco dancing.  However, if they reopen as a Western club, then I want to be ready because that spot is my hangout.  So I asked around this week.  No one seems to know the name of a single Western teacher.  What about you?  Can you teach Western?"

I turned white.  Gus was really putting me on the spot.  Teach him what?  I felt sick in my stomach.  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 expects me to teach him how to Western dance?  Give me a break.  I decided my only safe choice was to duck 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 [huge fib].  But right now, let me get a drink.  We can talk some more later [another fib. I just wanted to get Gus off my back]."  

As I waited for the bartender to see me, I turned to survey the club.  To my dismay, the floor was almost empty.  There was just a handful of people out there.  Uh oh.  This was another very bad sign.  I was at a loss to understand how Disco could have been burning hot only to see the flames go out.  Why all this fuss over a movie that was a year away from being released?  There was one mystery about the Texas Twostep I had never figured out.  One of the major reasons for my inability to embrace Western was the absurdity of it all.  I could not for the life of me understand how Urban Cowboy could supplant Saturday Night Fever.  Disco dancing was wonderful fun.  It had beautiful women, fast dancing, and pulsating music.  And yet right before my very eyes, the glamour of the Disco clubs was about to be replaced by dreary dance halls, twangy music and the most boring form of dancing imaginable.  To me, Disco dancing was so far superior to Western dancing, there could be no argument.  Nevertheless, Western was poised to dominate.  This was like letting an ugly girl win the beauty contest.  I wanted to scream!!!! 

Wake up, Houston!  Don't do this!!  You'll be sorry!

Why would anyone in their right mind dream of trading Disco for Country?

I noticed the Pistachio Club was a mere shell of its former self.  If this trend continued, I was sure this place did not have long to live.  That was more than enough to put me in a very bad mood.  However, it was Gus and his off-hand comment about Boccaccio turning into a Western club that really put me on edge.  I felt the beginning of a giant depression roll in.  I could not help but feel this just might be the long-feared beginning of the end for my beloved Magic Carpet Ride.  I knew that most people could probably care less, but for me, that would be tantamount to the end of the world. 

Trying to cheer up, I asked a lady named Sally to partner dance with me.  After we finished, I followed her over to the tables where the group was sitting.  To my dismay, one student after another wanted to know where Victoria was.  That's all they could talk about.  "Where is Victoria?"  I spent the entire night answering the same question over and over again.  I knew why they were upset.  Victoria was their leader.  She never failed to light up the night with her boundless rah-rah.  In her absence, tonight's Camelot event was deader than a doornail. 

What stopped me from filling the vacuum?  It was painful to admit, but I lacked the social skills that had made Victoria the Supreme Diva of Disco.  I envied her gift of popularity so much.  Victoria and I could not possibly have had a more different experience in high school.  Due to a bad case of teenage acne, I hid in the shadows at school dances.  Not once did I dance in high school.  Meanwhile Victoria was always in the center of things in high school.  In a joking manner, Victoria loved to tell me about her high school heyday.  Victoria was always the first to know the latest dance move.  At a party, she would teach it to her girlfriends as a way to get things started.  For an important event, she had three, five, maybe even ten young men asking her out.  One look at her and I believed every word she said.  Prom Queen, Beauty Queen, model, cheerleader, Victoria learned the secrets of popularity early on and that charm was still there. 

Victoria knew how to get the party started, but not me.  I wished I could do it, but right now I was too depressed to even try.  And it showed.  These people looked to me to cheer them up, but I was more depressed than they were.  Without Victoria, our Friday night Camelot tradition seemed doomed.  I felt so frustrated.  Right now I could not stand to be anywhere near Victoria, but my dance program seemed doomed without her.  As much as I hated to admit it, the dance program needed its Dancing Queen.  Without Victoria to keep the energy going, I imagine my program could limp through September, but all bets were off for October.  For lack of anything better to do, I danced a couple songs with a woman named Brigitte, then joined a different table upon my return.  This table was populated by seven members of my Monday Night Acrobatics class.  That included Gus, Mr. Gloom of Doom.

A pretty girl named Lynette greeted me.  "Guess what, Rick?  We've come up with a new name for our Monday Night Acrobatics class."

"Oh yeah? What's your new name?"

"We've decided to call ourselves the 'Die Hards'."

Always a fan of gallows humor, I gave her a weak grin.  "I can probably guess, but tell me the story."

Lynette spoke up.  "None of us are happy about this Urban Cowboy bullshit.  As it stands, we are down to three, maybe four clubs that still play Disco music.  Not only that, things are getting weird.  Tingles has added a second dance floor.  They play Disco music on one side of the club and Western on the other.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to dance Disco with Willie Nelson bellowing in the background?  If this trend continues, pretty soon we won't have a single place left to go.  The worst part is the feeling they are shoving this Country dancing stupidity down our throats."

Lynette paused to see if everyone agreed.  They all nodded, so she resumed.

"As an act of protest, our group here has pledged to dance Disco till the last club closes.  After that, we plan to drink poison and die a noble death with our Boogie Woogie dance shoes on."

With that, Lynette looked around.  "C'mon, everyone, you know what to do.  Let's have a toast!"

Everyone raised their glasses and spoke in unison.  "We are the Die Hards!"

Then Lynette turned to me.  "What you do think about our new name?"

I smiled ruefully.  "Count me in.  I feel exactly the same way you do.  I fear the end is in sight."

At that moment, one of my favorite songs came on.  Worried this might be the last time I ever danced to this song, I grabbed Lynette and hauled her out on the dance floor.  When the song was over, I walked her back to the table, then excused myself to go buy another drink.  That was a fib.  I walked past the bar and kept on going.  I could not take another discouraging word tonight. 

As I drove home, I was worried sick about the future of my dance program.  So far, my entire year had been marked by one crisis after another.  Month after month of dealing with problems between Victoria, Patricia and Joanne had sapped my spirit.  Not only was I fed up with a year of dealing with the Dueling Divas of Discord, my fears about the growing menace of Western dance clubs had worn me to a frazzle.  And now I had this insane Dance Curse hanging over me.  It seemed like all I ever did was worry.  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.  Considering how depressed I was, I refused to call her back. 

Instead I decided to take Emily and Sissy for a long walk in the moonlight.  I adored my dogs.  They were strays that I had adopted.  As the three of us walked through the neighborhood, my mind was consumed with one question... Why is Disco dying?  Disco was going strong in every other corner of the country.  The lone exception was Houston.  For some strange reason, Disco was being systematically being replaced by one Western club after another.  Here on the eve of September, there was just a trickle of Discos left.  Boccaccio had fallen and I expected Pistachio would be next. 

Why was that??  As always, I could find no answer.  I blamed the problem on some stupid Wizard of Oz, but that was just a guess.  The disappearance of Disco was a mystery with no solution, so I felt helpless to cope.  What in the world was I going to do when Disco was gone?  Once Disco was gone, there was nothing left for me to teach.  Ballroom?  Don't be ridiculous.  Ballroom dancing appealed to people twice my age.  From what I had seen, most of them were lucky to still be walking.  Besides, I hated the music and knew next to nothing about the dancing.  Forget it.

What about Western?  The more I thought about teaching Western, the more I panicked.  I abhorred the music so much, I could not see this happening.  Indeed, the future looked bleak.  I had originally pegged Christmas as the bitter end, but Victoria's unexpected withdrawal had surely moved up the timetable.  November was going to be the last month.  At the start of next year I would have to look for a new job. 

I felt desperate.  Over the past two years I had thought I would teach dance forever.  This was supposed to be my 'Career'.  I wasn't just losing my job, I was losing my 'reason for being'.  For the past five years my identity had been wrapped around Disco.  Three years of learning, two years of teaching.   Disco had rescued me from the worst depression of my life following my Colorado State debacle.  Disco had given me self-confidence around women.  Disco had helped me discover how much I loved teaching.  This revealed a talent I never knew I had.  Going out dancing with friends from the studio had been the most fun I had ever enjoyed. 

Until recently I had nursed a well-kept secret that this Dance Path was God's plan for me.  Lately, however, I had changed my mind.  It looked to me like God's Plan had just hit a dead end.  Once the Disco Ball stopped spinning, the party was over.  So was my Magic Carpet Ride. 

I had never felt so alone.  There was no one to console me at a time when as Disco died before my eyes.  I felt the same grief I might get from watching my best friend in the world shrivel up from an incurable disease.  Worst of all, I did not even know what had caused the illness.  I hurt so much, but the worst part was my inability to figure out what was going on.  Why is Disco dying in Houston but nowhere else?  Looking up 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.