MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER FORTY:

THE IDES OF WALTZ

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH TWO Monday, NOVEMBER 12, 1979 NEW HEADACHES

Following the disaster of my first Stevens Western Class, I spent my next private lesson with Glen going over Foxtrot till I was blue in the face.  Glen showed me some unusual Foxtrot patterns such as Conversation and Zigzag that I seriously doubted had ever graced a C&W dance floor.  However, since Joanne was not around to confirm or deny their authenticity, I had no way to know.  Here is what I did know: I badly needed more material.  If necessary, I would use these moves in class.  What other choice did I have?  I guess I could visit a club, but we already know the answer to that.

Full of dread, on November 12, I showed up for Week Two of my Stevens Western class.  I was certain something was going to wrong.  But how do I prepare for the unknown?  There were simply too many things that could go wrong.  Sure enough, I immediately ran into a problem.  However it was a weird problem, something I had never run across before.   So of course I botched things completely. 

Two new ladies joined the class that night, Sally and Susan.  Both women were in their 50's, a good 20-25 years older than the rest of the group.  Since this was an unadvertised class, I had no idea where these two women came from.  So what was my mistake?  I let them take the class without dancing with them first.  To my dismay, once class started, I suddenly realized neither woman had ever danced in her life.  This caused a real problem.  Since they were total beginners, they slowed everyone down.  But what was I supposed to do, tell them to sit down?  Or kick them out of class with everyone watching?  Unwilling to risk a scene, I said nothing.  This proved to be a serious error in judgment.

At first, these struggling beginners seemed like a blessing because they gave me an excuse to start over, Cotton Eyed Joe and all.  By returning to Square One, this allowed me to hoard what little precious dance material I had left for future use with my fast learners.  By spending extra time on a thorough review of the previous week's material for Sally and Susan's benefit, I barely had time to introduce one new move at the end of the class.  That is when I realized the experienced dancers were fuming.  Uh oh.  I had made a serious mistake.  Pleased to receive my face-saving delay tactics, I suddenly realized my ploy had badly backfired.  These phenomenal former Disco dancers were angry at me for letting two new students drag their class down.  They wanted things to move at their pace.  There is an old saying, 'Don't let the tail wag the dog'.  My group of 23 advanced dancers resented having their progress sacrificed to cater to Susan and Sally.  I hated to admit it, but they had a point.  Their impatience made me feel very anxious. 

This was a serious dilemma.  Ordinarily the talent of a class is divided along the classic Bell Curve distribution... a few good dancers at one end, a few slow learners at the other end, and plenty of average dancers in the middle.  Over the past two years I had always taught at the speed most comfortable to the average dancers in the group. 

However that technique would not work with this class because there were no average dancers.  This group had 23 incredible dancers and 2 total beginners.  There was no middle speed that would satisfy the majority.  In the past I had a few classes that lacked a distinct middle, but never quite to this extent. 

I was at a complete loss what to do.  To move slow would irritate the hotshots, to move fast would overwhelm the beginners.  Who do I sacrifice? 

Trying to appease my critics, I quickly introduced the pattern I referred to as Transition Polka.  That worked.  Even the hot shots had trouble picking it up on the spot.  But Sally and Susan were lost.  They struggled so badly I suggested they sit down, promising to work with them after class.  Meanwhile I realized my decision had alienated the bulk of my class.  They could not believe I had ruined their night by letting these slowpoke newcomers join the class to begin with.  No one was outright ugly to me, but I could see they blamed me for wasting their time. 

If the right hand doesn't get you, then the left hand will  To make matters worse, here comes Lynette and friends to deliver another Cowboy invitation at the end of class.  And they brought reinforcements.  A group of six students led by Lynette surrounded me.  When they invited me to go Western dancing with them, I begged off for the second time. 

"Uh, gee, maybe next week..." 

Ordinarily my students would not have given my refusal any thought, but tonight they were already angry.  That probably explains why they pressured me.  Lynette spoke up. "Why not, Rick?  What's your excuse this week?" 

I panicked.  To go with them unprepared would risk my exposure as little better than a beginner.  I was supposed to be an ace, not a greenhorn.  And yet to refuse would add to their suspicion.  Furthermore, allowing the students to go dancing without me was dangerous because they might make observations at Cowboy they would ask me about next week.  This increased the danger of being asked a question I could not answer.  It is one thing to teach Argentine Tango to Texans because they have no idea what it looks like.  But what if they take a trip to Argentina?  Truly, the only sensible thing would be to go with the students.  Unfortunately, I could not make myself face my fears.  Never before had I missed Joanne as much as I did this moment.  If Joanne had been here, I would have said yes and simply danced with her at the club.  Joanne's experience would have protected me.  Instead I was operating without a safety net.

I needed an excuse in the worst way.  Just then I saw that Susan and Sally, the new students, were about to leave.  If ever there was a Smoke and Mirrors moment, this was it.  Out of desperation, I called to the two women and asked them to stay.  In front of the six students, I said, "Susan, Sally, stick around.  I want to help you catch up to the rest of the class." 

Such a noble gesture!  This was a smart move because it gave me a face-saving reason to beg off going to Cowboy.  It also helped to appease the students who were still mad at me for letting these older women slow down our class tonight.  Sure enough, the students backed off, but I didn't like the looks on their faces, especially Lynette.  Based on her expression, Lynette saw right through me.  The others left, but she just stood there with her hands on her hips staring at me.  Well, tough.  I ignored her and turned my attention to the two women.  When Lynette finally moved on, I promised myself I would go dancing on my own this week.  This flying blind nonsense had to end now.

Susan and Sally were attractive middle-aged ladies who were rookies at social dancing.  It turned out that word of mouth had brought them here.  They were friends of Dorothy Piazzos, the kind lady who had helped me get my Disco job here at Stevens two years earlier.  Dorothy liked to volunteer as an extra lady to any class taught by Lance Stevens that had more men than women.  When I had seen her last week, she asked what was up with Disco these days.  That is when I mentioned my decision to teach a Monday Western class.

Dorothy replied, "Oh, good for you, Rick.  Smart move.  Is it a Beginner class?"

When I said yes, Dorothy smiled.  Obviously Dorothy intended to tell her friends about the class, but she had no way knowing that my 'Beginner' class was being taught to the most talented group of dancers in the program.  As they say, the Road to Ruin is paved with Good Intentions.  Since the ladies were well aware that their presence had caused a lot of resentment that night, they were grateful for the extra attention.  Sally was okay, but Susan was borderline hopeless.  She had no business being in this class, but I didn't have the heart to tell her that.  After thirty minutes, we called it a night.  After the two women thanked me for the extra help, I went home and collapsed.  Like I keep saying, this was the worst year of my life.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 14 MY BIG CHANCE

On Wednesday, November 14, Jennifer called me in the afternoon.  "I would like to see you, Rick.  Can you come over tonight?"

Jennifer's voice was very warm.   After several weeks of sweet-talk, I could see my patience was working.  If I didn't know better, the door to her heart was finally ajar.  This might be the chance I had been hoping for.  I brought a bottle of wine for the occasion.  If a bottle of wine could turn Glen into my friend, who knows what magic it might work with Jennifer? 

To my delight, Jennifer was all for opening the bottle.  "I'm sick of talking about Victoria.  How about I make popcorn and we watch TV?"

Jennifer obviously wanted some company.  We cuddled on the couch and watched TV.  We drank the wine and began to kiss.  Jennifer was definitely in the mood.  Just maybe...

Jennifer was very turned on, I could tell.  She was weakening.  One step short of the point of no return, Jennifer breathlessly begged me to stop.  "Please stop, I'm losing control..."

I reluctantly yielded.  If Jennifer had given in, I think we would have gotten back together right then and there.  It was a near miss.  Don't ask me how disappointed I was.  However, since I assumed there would be other chances, why rush things?  After all, I was trying to win back her trust.  I assumed my respect tonight would win points and benefit me in the long run.

When I left her apartment, I felt much better.  Jennifer gave me a long good night kiss.  She was smiling as she closed the door.  Tonight was very promising.  I left certain that Jennifer and I would resume our love affair in the near future.

Monday, NOVEMBER 19 DEVIN AND MONA

“Beware the Ides of March!”

This immortal phrase was spoken in Julius Caesar, a famous play written by William Shakespeare.  The Latin word 'Ides' refers to the middle of any month.  As legend has it, a soothsayer stopped Caesar as he made his way to the Forum to warn him of impending danger.  The date was March 15, 44 BC.  Later that same day Caesar was brutally murdered at the Roman Forum.

No soothsayer appeared to warn me of the coming danger in mid-November.  Too bad.  I could have used the warning. 

I arrived for my third Stevens Western class in a really bad mood.  The date was Monday, November 19.  I was angry at myself.  I had made a solemn promise to go Western dancing one night this past week.  However, as always I had procrastinated.  Considering how risky it was to teach this Western class blind, I was a total fool to take chances like this. 

Something was bound to go wrong tonight, I was sure of it.  I fully expected Sally and Susan would cause a headache and I was right about that.  In addition, tonight I would make a mistake so serious it would change the direction of my life.  Cosmic Blindness?  Not this time.  A better explanation would be my stubborn refusal to visit a Western dance club when I had the chance.  As we shall see, my decision to fly blind finally backfired.

Things were out of control from the start of class.  Sally and Susan were my new students from last week.  Their lack of skill presented a giant problem.  I could not slow the class down again.  To do so would risk mutiny.  So I appeased the talented dancers by moving the class at their speed.  As expected, Susan and Sally struggled badly with the rapid pace.  This presented me with a problem I had never encountered before.  Both ladies were in their 50's.  Due to their age and inexperience, it was asking a lot to expect them to keep up with the racehorses.  Indeed, they were both so shaky, I was deeply worried one of them might fall.  Yes, I had seen women fall in the past during the Disco Era.  However, since Disco Partner Dancing was conducted APART, the women were usually able to break their fall.  Plus they were young and recovered quickly.  Not so with Sally and Susan.  Both of these older women looked pretty fragile.  Not just that, Susan was overweight.  Polka Dancing was conducted at a rapid clip.  If one of my men made a bad mistake, Susan's weight made it difficult for an inexperienced male dancer to rescue her. 

I countered this problem as best I could by dancing exclusively with the two women night long.  However, I had a math problem.  Two of them and only one of me.  One woman would have to be exposed to the cruelty of the wolf pack.  Considering how grouchy everyone was after last week's slow pace, I was deeply worried.  Which one do I concentrate on?  The one with potential or the hopeless one?  Sally had potential.  With a little practice, she had a shot.  On the other hand Susan was so inept I wondered how she could even walk, much less dance.  Maybe if I worked with both of them for a moment, I could bring them up to speed.  Yeah, fat chance of that, but I had to try.  I put on some music and told people to practice the Polka patterns from Weeks One and Two. 

There was hope for Sally, so I chose her first.  But then I saw Susan stumble badly with another man.  He caught her, but it was a close call.  Susan was so unsteady on her feet that she was a threat to hurt herself.  Fearful of an accident, I grabbed Susan and threw Sally to the wolves.  Now Sally wasn't doing very well.  So I danced with her again to bolster her confidence.   But then I saw Susan flounder, so I switched back.  I was so distracted with the problems of protecting these two women that I did not run the class effectively. 

It seemed like whatever I did to solve one problem caused another.  For example, by dancing exclusively with the two women who were weak, I ignored the other female students.  Now they began to feel slighted.  Lynette asked when it would her turn to dance with me.  We already know that Lynette was very assertive.  She was the person who persuaded me to teach this ill-fated class in the first place.  I could tell that Lynette was unhappy with the lack of progress, so I definitely wanted to give her attention.  I danced with Lynette briefly only to see Susan keel over again.  Fortunately her partner caught her, but this was a second close call.  Fearing a third accident, I apologized to Lynette and returned to Susan for the rest of the evening.  The class learned their Polka material well enough, but there was a lot of grumbling.  No one was happy.  I might add the look on Sally's face revealed she was badly traumatized from being left to the wolves.  Quite frankly, I strongly doubted I would ever see either woman again, not after tonight's struggles.

To my relief we finally made it to the end of the class.  Or at least I thought so.  Just as I was about to put on some music to wrap things up, Jerry, one of Lynette's ringleaders, asked when I was going to teach the Texas Twostep.  Jerry added that he could care less about the Polka, it was the Twostep he was interested in.  Immediately everyone who had been chatting stopped what they were doing and turned to see what I would say.  I turned white as a ghost.  Apparently this was an issue with the entire class.  Something about their faces suggested something was going on that I didn't know.  Here again my ignorance sabotaged me.  I had no idea that the Twostep was more popular than Polka by a wide margin.  Now that Jerry had put me on the spot, no doubt my anxiety showed.  I had resisted introducing the Twostep for a specific reason.  I still did not know the difference between Joanne's 'old' Twostep and 'new' Twostep.  Plus I was planning to teach those weird Foxtrot patterns Glen had taught me.  I was terrified someone would exclaim, "That's not Twostep!  I've never seen that pattern in my life!"  Since I had no idea what the 'new' Twostep looked like, I was reluctant to teach any Twostep patterns until I could overcome my procrastination issues and go look for myself. 

Flying Blind, I did not know what the Texas Twostep looked like because I refused to visit a club.  This was exactly what Joanne had warned me about.  Glen had warned me as well.  Meanwhile my experienced dancers had visited Cowboy after class the past two weeks.  They had actually seen people dance the Twostep and knew what it looked like better than I did.  Maybe I could bullshit Bronco Bill.  Maybe I could fool Meyerland students who had never been to Argentina.  But I could not fool these guys.  What on earth had possessed me to teach this class to students who possibly knew more than I did?  In addition, there was something wrong with my Foxtrot.  Glen said I was always getting off-beat, but he was not able to explain what I was doing wrong.  Glen promised he would figure it out the next time we danced, but what was I going to tell Jerry until then?  I had to promise to give Jerry what he wanted.

"Don't worry, Jerry, we will definitely start the Texas Twostep next week."

"Well, can you at least demonstrate the Twostep so I can see what it looks like?"

Oh my God.  A demonstration in front of the class was my biggest fear.  What would the Great Imposter do?  Smoke and mirrors!

"It's getting late, Jerry.  Right now it's time to dance to music and wrap things up.  However, if you will stay after class, I will be happy to show it to you [total lie].  Okay, everyone, let's practice Polka to music."

Before Jerry could say another word, I had the music playing to drown him out.  I was so rattled I made another blunder.  When I put on the music, I forgot to 'slow' the Polka down.  Again, my ignorance killed me.  If there was one thing I had learned at the Meyerland Club, a fast Polka is tough for everyone, even good dancers.  For that reason I used a mechanism on my turntable that allowed me to control the speed of the music.  Unfortunately I was so busy worrying about Jerry that I forgot to use it.  Consequently I allowed my students to face the true tempo of the Polka song I played.  Mercifully, Susan and Sally decided to sit it out.  However, the others really struggled to keep up with the rapid clip.  I was distraught to see how ragged the dancing was, men in particular.  Embarrassed by their inept performance, there were some very grouchy students when the music ended.  I hated finishing class on such a poor note.

To make matters worse, I was immediately besieged.  Lynette's group was back to bug me to go dancing with them at Cowboy.  In a way they saved me from Jerry's Twostep demonstration.  Jerry took a disgusted look at the throng and decided not to hang around.  Thank goodness.  Close call!  Had he stayed to insist I demonstrate the Twostep, I was a dead man.  They say cats have nine lives.  And with that, another cat died on the spot.  By my count, so far at least three of my nine cats had been forced to die thanks to this damn C&W class.  I was grateful that Jerry let me off the hook, but he had to wonder why I resembled Casper the Ghost.  Nor was I out of the woods.  Lynette's group were giant pests who refused to take no for an answer.  They said I was going dancing with them tonight no matter what.

Just then, I noticed a couple named Devin and Mona were hanging around to speak to me.  Wondering what they wanted, I remembered how I had used Sally and Susan to get rid of Lynette's friends last week.   "Look, Lynette, I promise to go dancing tonight [a complete and utter lie].  But first I need to see what Devin and Mona want.  I will catch up to you guys later."

This dodge was met by skeptical faces, but everyone could see Devin and Mona need something.  So my excuse was good enough to get them off my back.  Although their bullshit detectors suggested I was feeding them a line, thankfully they did not press the issue.  The thing to remember is that I had earned a lot of credibility with these people dating back to my Disco days.  However, I had used up much of that good will after brushing my friends off three weeks in a row.  As the students exited, I saw several of them glance back at me.  They were clearly suspicious that something was wrong, that this was not the 'Rick' of old.  With a deep breath, I promised myself I would visit a club this week and straighten everything out.  Not only that, this time I meant it!  I did not dare let another week go by without taking action.  

Feeling very rattled, I turned to Devin and Mona.  What a lucky break to have them stay behind.  Their presence had provided me a convenient excuse.  Otherwise I would have been forced to give in and risk exposure with my mediocre dancing at Cowboy.

Devin and Mona were in their mid-thirties.  They were so-so dancers who had been among the ones who had struggled to the fast Polka.  Since they were friends of Dave, the guy who kept giving me a hard time, I was on guard.  Smiling my fake smile, I asked, "What can I do for the two of you?"  

Devin spoke first.  "We are going to the Winchester Club tonight and we have a favor to ask."

The Winchester Club?  I kept a poker face, but inside I was disgusted.  I had only recently learned of the Winchester Club.  A woman named Beverly who took classes from Lance Stevens had pulled me aside.  Like Sally and Susan, she was a friend of Dorothy Piazzos.  It turned out that Beverly was curious about my new Western class. 

"Dorothy told me you started teaching a Western class.  I've never heard of anyone who taught a Kicker class before, but it sounds like a good idea what with Urban Cowboy coming down the road."

Beverly was not much older than me.  Curious, I decided to ask Beverly if she knew how to dance country.

"Oh, sure, I've been dancing since I was a teenager.  I learned Western dancing in Crosby and Pasadena back in the late 60s, early 70s.  That's where I learned to Two Step.  Future Farmers of America was big in Pasadena high schools and that's how I met my high school boyfriend.  He had lambs, chickens and turkeys in his back yard.  He also showed steers at Pasadena and Houston rodeos.  One night during the Houston Rodeo he took me to this joint just outside Loop 610 called the Winchester Club.  The place reminded me of Gilley's.  It was ugly and filled with every lowlife and redneck on the planet.  I remember there were a bunch of city boys who were there mostly to drink.  They didn't know squat about Two Step or Polka, so they just sat there all night long.  I'm glad you're teaching that country class.  It's about time someone teaches the city boys how to dance country the right way."

The Right Way?  Hmm, guess again.  Beverly seemed friendly, so I desperately wanted to ask her to show me what she knew.  Maybe she could be my next Joanne.  However, just then her husband showed up for their private lesson with Lance Stevens.  Oh well, so much for my next Joanne.  Still it was nice to know some of the history.  Thanks to Beverly, I had just learned that Western dancing had existed in Houston before Disco had come along.  I did not know that previously.

Beverly had said the Winchester was a hang-out for lowlifes and rednecks.  Oh great, just my kind of place.  It sounded like another Cactus Club.  Recalling the revulsion I felt during my Cactus Club visit, I shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

So what did Devin and Mona want?  I replied, "Ah, yes, the Winchester Club, I have heard a lot of good things about it [total lie].  What can I do for you?"

Mona smiled.  "Devin and I are getting married early next year.  I have heard that the Waltz is the perfect first dance for Weddings, so Devin and I have been thinking of dancing a Waltz.  Since we are going dancing at the Winchester tonight, could you take a minute and show us at least one move to the Waltz?"

I breathed a sigh of relief.  This much I could do.  Recently Glen had reminded me of the well-known Waltz move known as the Box Step during our private lesson.  So I showed them Glen's Box Step done to Waltz tempo.  They were excited. 

Devin asked me to show him how the steps fit the music.  "Would you mind playing a Waltz?"

I groaned.  Please don't make me do this.  Reluctantly I went over to the record player and put on Joanne's favorite Waltz, Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys by Waylon Jennings.  Listening to this song always put in me in a bad mood.  Tonight was no different.

Since the song was ridiculously fast, I hit the turntable mechanism that slowed the song way down.  This was the only way anyone could dance comfortably to this song.  I was gambling Devin and Mona would not realize I was playing the music at a much-reduced tempo.  To my relief, Waylon's singing was so bad neither of them seemed to notice the greatly-reduced speed.  Ignoring the music as best I could, I demonstrated how the unusual three-quarter rhythm of the music fit the Waltz Box Step footwork. 

After Devin and Mona practiced to the music a few times, they seemed to get the hang of it.  Devin said, "That's great, thanks a lot, Rick.  Hey, do you want to come with us?  I'll let you dance with Mona."

I winced at the invitation.  I wanted to visit the Winchester Club about as much as I wanted to visit an Ebola-plagued country in West Africa.  "Uh, no thanks, Devin, I promised my girlfriend I would drop by to see her tonight.  Another time."

Devin and Mona were all smiles as they headed off to the Winchester, but not me.  I looked at my watch.  It was late.  I had spent over 30 minutes with Devin and Mona.  What about Cowboy?  Lynette and the girls were waiting for me, but I was in no mood to face them.  Well aware that I was taking a huge chance by standing the women up, I headed home instead.  I spent the entire drive swearing I would visit a Western dance club this week. 

When I got home, I took my two dogs for a long walk to work off the nervous energy.  As the three of us strolled the neighborhood in the dark, I lamented that yet another cat had to die tonight to get me out of my latest jam.  How much longer was my luck going to hold out?  I had this Twostep problem plus Sally and Susan.  Then there was my refusal to go dancing at Cowboy with my students.   Back in the old days, it had been a well-established tradition for my Disco students to hit the Pistachio Club after class to practice.  I made a point to join them at least once every two or three weeks.  Obviously this same group had transferred our tradition to Cowboy.  By not accepting their offer for three weeks in a row, I had made them suspicious.  Now I had broken a promise as well.  Assuming the women would resent being stood up, I worried that they would be gunning for me next week.

There was something else that worried me.  Practice makes Perfect.  They were practicing and I was not.  Right now my students might be learning things at Cowboy that could cause me trouble next week.  What were they learning behind my back?  I told myself for the umpteenth time I had to go dancing this week and check things out.  Otherwise I would find myself cornered next Monday.  I shook my head in frustration.  This class scared me to death.  There was only one solution.  I had to visit a club this week.  Joanne had told me to do it, Glen had told me to do it, Jennifer had told me to do it.  Okay, I give in.  I made a vow to follow their advice.

I was also worried about Devin and Mona.  I was not sure why, but I had terrible misgivings about this incident.  Devin and Mona had asked me to step way out of my comfort zone with their Waltz request.  My instincts told me I was asking for serious trouble giving them advice on something I had virtually no knowledge about.  But what other choice did I have?  I had just shown them the only Waltz step I knew.  Oh, well, they left happy, so why worry about it?  Nevertheless, I had a weird premonition that something was wrong.

If I had listened to the wind more carefully, I might have heard the soothsayer whisper, "Beware the Ides of Waltz!"