MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO:

WESTERN WALTZ

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH seven
JANUARY 1980

TAKING STOCK OF THINGS

Last Autumn I had been forced against my will to participate in Limbo.  However, thanks to the arrival of Miss Moneypenny and the dawn of the Western Era, Victoria had lost her power over me.  I could leave Limbo Captivity any time I wanted.  However, I had voluntarily agreed to remain in this odd life space one to two months longer.  My reasons were part loyalty as a favor to a friend and part gratitude for Victoria's contribution to the growth of the dance program.  However my decision went even deeper than that.  Not only did I wish to atone for my part in screwing up her life, I felt a Karmic duty to protect Victoria.  I know it sounds strange, but my intuition insisted that God wanted me to keep an eye on Victoria.  As Victoria had put it, "it was the least that I could do."  Considering she had only asked for a brief commitment, I agreed to help.  I assumed it would take Victoria at most a couple months to get back on her feet.  After that, I expected Victoria would set me free.

The weird part is how little I saw of Victoria.  Never on weekends and only on Tuesday night during the week.  Having Victoria as my 'alleged' girlfriend was like dating a woman from another state.  Or maybe another planet.  Considering how weird Victoria was, she might actually be an alien.  The bottom line is that I didn't see much of Victoria.  Not that I cared.  I let Victoria call the shots and simply played along.  I had learned that whenever I objected, Victoria put the clamps on me.  But whenever I cooperated, Victoria forgot that I existed.  What a strange game this was.  I decided my best move was to remain as compliant as possible.  This gave rise to a very peculiar strategy, something I referred to as 'Killing her softly with Kindness'.  One of these days I expected she would find me so boring that she would release me out of sheer apathy.

Meanwhile the influx of 200 new students had resurrected my status as the man in demand.  Overnight I was surrounded by interested women.  However, I had given Victoria my word.  Despite the scrutiny and less than subtle invitations, I was determined to remain a good boy.  Victoria would call every night to make sure I made bed check.  Then on Tuesday she would scan me with that witchy probe of hers.  Concluding I was playing by her rules, Victoria gave me complete freedom while concentrating on her problems.  In addition to motherhood and her divorce concerns, Victoria began an inner journey to understand why she had gone off the deep end. 

Victoria left little room for thought about me.  As consequence, I was alone an enormous amount of the time.  Ordinarily I would have used this free time to chase women.  However, since that was taboo, I turned my entire focus on my new career as a Country-Western dance instructor.  I knew I was an improbable choice to become Houston's first western teacher.  This job should have gone to a country boy or a Texas A&M graduate.  It made no sense that an ignorant prep school nerd had gotten the nod.  Considering I never even knew Western dancing existed till a few months ago, it felt like an injustice.  But who am I to question God's Will?  I concluded that Fate must have put me here for a reason.  If so, then I vowed to become the best Country-Western teacher I was capable of. 

Following my decision to make C&W dancing more interesting, I spent January cooking up new moves.  I would make up a move, polish it with Glen, then practice my new moves when I went dancing with my students after class.  One day it occurred to me that I was unusually good at inventing new moves.  I knew that Lance Stevens held a very low opinion of my dance ability.  And, sorry to say, I had always agreed with him.  It was true that I did not possess the dance skill necessary to aspire to 'greatness' in my profession.  Although I was a better dancer than my students, that was nothing to brag about.  If I were to enter a dance contest against other professional instructors, I was very certain I would lose.  Plus I was a slow learner.  Recently I started Whip lessons with Glen.  Unfortunately I was having a lot of trouble mastering this tricky dance.  My struggles reminded me that I had never been good at learning new patterns.  Considering these handicaps, it was amazing that I had lasted this long. 

Now, however, I was having second thoughts about Stevens' low opinion of me.  I did seem to have an unusual talent for creating western dance patterns and organizing them into a system.  I had another unusual skill as well.  Given that I was analytical by nature, I was very good at breaking down dance patterns to make it easier for slow learners to catch on.  Students handicapped by their over-analytical minds loved my ability to explain patterns in a logical, step-by-step fashion. 

Hmm.  Very interesting.  Maybe my success was not such a fluke after all.  Although I lacked the dance ability and learning ability common to most dance professionals, I did have a knack for teaching slowpokes.  And why was this an advantage?  There were two kinds of students... gifted and not-so-gifted.  Lance Stevens was perfect for gifted students.  They were his kind of people.  However, due to his sarcasm and blunt criticism, Stevens was a lousy teacher for beginners.  I was just the opposite.  I had no business teaching fast learners.  However, I was the perfect teacher for beginners and students whose over-developed brains got in the way of their feet.  Given our different approach to the dance business, perhaps that is why Stevens was so mystified by my success.  He thought all dance teachers should be superior dancers born in his image.  Given that he held slow learners in contempt, he did not have the patience to move at their pace. 

Here is what Stevens failed to realize.  There were far more so-so dance students in the world than gifted students.  Unfortunately, the so-so dancers were also less committed.  That is why I realized the so-so dancers needed a reason to stay with it.  And what would be that reason be?  Boy Meets Girl.  Who taught me that?  Victoria.  And where was a good place to find lots of so-so dancers?  Country-Western dance clubs.  If I wanted to succeed at C&W, then I needed to maximize Victoria's 'Looking for Love' motto. 

Only one problem.  I say all this in Hindsight.  Back in January 1980, I was too distracted with inventing new patterns.  Fortunately, as usual, Fate took care of the oversight.  This was my Brightest Day.  No matter how stupid I was, I kept succeeding in spite of myself.

MONDAY NIGHT, JANUARY 21, 1980

JERRY HAS ANOTHER REQUEST
 

It was Monday night, January 21.  As I drove to the studio, I found myself resenting this strange life space I referred to as Limbo Captivity.  I had made a promise to swear off women while Victoria tried to put her life back together.  Nevertheless I shook my head in disgust.  Forbidden to date other women, I was doomed to be lonely unless I found a way to deal with it.  Lynette said she went dancing whenever she needed to chase the blues away.  That sounded like a good strategy, so I decided to join my students at Cowboy after class tonight. 

As I hoped, my Intermediate Western class went well tonight.  My gamble to invent new patterns rather than scavenge for them in the clubs had paid huge dividends.  Even better, by dancing the new moves with my lady students, I kept getting new ideas.  The more I danced, the smarter I got.  Very curious how this was working out.  After dancing six songs in a row, I took a break.  Standing by the rail, Jerry came over.  Fearing the worst, I braced myself.  Imagine my surprise when Jerry did not scold me.  Instead he offered a compliment.

"Rick, I really enjoyed class tonight.  For the first time, I can lead those Circle Turns that have always given me trouble."

Wow!  Did I hear that correctly?  I had not expected praise from my one-time Fright Night nemesis.   Jerry had more to say. 

"You have definitely been doing your homework.  I have never seen some of those patterns you showed us tonight.  I tried them here at Cowboy and they work like a charm.  You have made Western dancing a lot more challenging than I first imagined.  Good for you.  I like that.  I've started to get compliments on my dancing from the ladies.  I never dreamed that would happen.  But now I have a question.  Out of curiosity, where did you learn those patterns?  Who is your teacher?"

Oh great, here we go again.  Sometimes I wish Jerry would just leave me alone.  Did I dare tell him the whole truth?  No.  So I settled on telling him some of the truth. 

"I don't have a teacher.  I just watch other people dance and pick up stuff here and there [a total lie].  Watching people dance gives me ideas.  Plus when I dance, I try doing things a different way.  When I find a move that works, I share it with you." 

I did not think it wise to admit I believed Western dancing was so primitive that I had to create stuff out of thin air just to stay in business.  Still, it was nice of Jerry to indirectly confirm that my decision to invent moves had been the correct path to take.  The ladies liked Jerry's dance moves, so now Jerry liked me.  The Evolution of Twostep was saving my career. 

Jerry left to go chat with some girl.  Just then a Waltz song came on.  Curious, I watched to see what the men would do.  As I guessed, not one cowboy knew what he was doing.  The best they could do was lead that boring Travel step where the woman danced backwards the entire time.  I took notice when an elderly couple dressed in business attire entered the floor.  To my astonishment, they did a lovely Waltz complete with swirling circle turns and complex patterns.  They were so lovely I was reminded of Lance Stevens.  A couple weeks ago I had watched carefully as Stevens danced a similar Waltz with one of his private lesson students.  The couple at Cowboy were so good I wondered if they had learned to Waltz from Stevens. 

Given that no one else on the floor had the slightest clue what they were doing, it was weird to see the otherworldly sophistication of their dancing.  I wasn't the only who noticed their vast superiority.  Several of the couples stopped dancing and stepped aside to watch.  I was so impressed, I began to wonder if their appearance was an Omen of some sort.  Seeing the beauty of the Waltz here at Cowboy helped me make up my mind.  On the spot, I made a snap decision.  It was time to learn Ballroom Dancing.  I would start with the Waltz tomorrow morning.

TUESDAY MORNING, JANUARY 22, 1980

WESTERN WALTZ
 

When I appeared at Glen's studio on Tuesday for my private lesson, I greeted him with a bold statement.  "Okay, Glen, get ready to teach me to Waltz!"

Glen stared at me wide-eyed with surprise.  Glen knew I was the most Anti-Ballroom student he had ever taught, so he had every right to be startled by my new-found enthusiasm.  Glen smiled broadly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure??"

"I saw a couple dancing a Waltz at Cowboy last night.  They looked really good.  Now I want to learn to dance like that."

"Are you sure about this?  Have you taken your medication?"

I smiled.  Sarcasm came as easily to Glen as it did to me. 

"Yes, I am of sound mind.  Previously you rescued me from my Western Crisis with your German Polka and Ballroom Foxtrot, both of which are Ballroom dances.  A few weeks ago you recommended I consider taking Ballroom lessons.  I decided that if you say Ballroom is what I need, then maybe I should listen.  So I decided to stop being so stubborn.  But before we start, I have a question."

Glen nodded.  "Go ahead."

"Are there two different Waltzes, one for Western music and one for Ballroom music?"

"Having never seen a Waltz in a Western club, I can't be positive.  However, I doubt there are two versions.  As long as the speed is Waltz tempo, whatever moves you learn to Ballroom Waltz will work to Western music.  You said you saw a couple dancing at Cowboy.  What kind of music were they dancing to?"

"It was a Waltz and it sounded like a Western song to me."

"Well, there's your answer.  There is no difference between Ballroom Waltz and Western Waltz."

"Good.  I don't want to waste time learning Ballroom material unless I can use it to Western music."

Glen looked at me skeptically.  "You don't want to learn Cha Cha or Tango?"

"Maybe someday, but not now.  Let's stick to Waltz."

Glen insisted we start with the Waltz 'Compression' technique.  Waltz is based on three steps.  The first step is a long stride followed by two shorter steps.  In order to take the long stride, a dancer must lower into the floor with their supporting leg while taking a long step with the other leg.  After the long first step, the dancer rises for two smaller steps.  The compression technique creates the graceful rise and fall of the Waltz. 

Unfortunately I found learning the Compression to be very tricky.  I was terrible at this move.  Glen was so disgusted by my lack of progress, he stopped dancing with me after five minutes.  Telling me it was a waste of his time to dance with me until my technique improved, Glen had a special project for me.  He sat down and told me to circle the room on my own. 

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious.  You are not worthy of dancing Waltz with me yet, so get going."

That was harsh.  Maybe he was teasing, so I looked for a smile.  Nope, no smile.  So I started Waltzing by myself while Glen sat there smoking a cigarette.  Every time I completed a lap, I stopped to inquire if I had improved enough for him to dance with.  Glen never said a word.  He just shook his head and pointed to get going again.  Making matters worse, I had to listen to that stupid Waltz Schmaltz that Glen called 'music'.  Yuck.

The nerve of this guy!  He expects me to pay him to sit on his butt and smoke?  The least he could do is offer me a broomstick so I would have someone to dance with.  Progress was difficult.  For 30 minutes I circled the floor all by myself, making very little improvement.  As usual, my brain got in the way of my feet.  My struggle reminded me of the time I could not wiggle my hips properly to Cha Cha because Lance Stevens was screaming at me.  For the umpteenth time in my life, I felt thoroughly humiliated by my lack of natural dance ability.  I could not believe how hard it was to get the hang of this Waltz compression trick. 

Finally Glen couldn't take it any more.  "That's enough.  You are giving me a headache.  I can't bear to watch you any longer.  Tell you what, let's try working on the Whip for a while.  We can come back to Waltz next week.  It is either that or let me shoot you and put you out of your misery." 

For the last 10 minutes we practiced the Whip.  When we finished, Glen asked, "Same time next week?"

With a frown, I replied.  "Yeah, I'll be here.  Wouldn't miss it for the world.  You know me, I love to Waltz!  I expect to dream about it."  

Yeah, in my nightmares.

Glen smiled.  "Don't be so hard on yourself.  And you better not quit on me.  Hey, if you're lucky, I'll play some more Lawrence Welk music for you."

"Drop dead.  I'll see you next week."

On the way home, I was really irritated.  Was I mad about Glen's sarcasm?  Nah.  He was rooting for me, so I didn't care.  I was just mad because it was obvious this was going to be a lot harder than I expected.  I had feared this might be an ordeal, but I never thought it would be this bad.  My learning curse was worse today than at any time.  Why?  Probably because I hated Glen's Ballroom music so much.  My eternal struggle at learning to dance was really getting old.  Getting Western off the ground over these past few months had left me so frazzled that I had no patience left.  One part of me seriously considered ditching this Ballroom experiment.  After all, I didn't need this.  It looked like my fears about Western dancing being a complete dud had been groundless, so I could just stick to Polka and Twostep.  The club's were already packed and the movie's debut was just around the corner.  Surely the energy would carry into Fall.  Why not quit Ballroom lessons and save myself a world of aggravation? 

But I hesitated.  For one thing, now that Victoria had declared me 'Boyfriend in Perpetuity', I had way too much free time on my hands.  If ever there was a time to take on an uphill struggle, this was it.  In addition, what about the future?  What might be lurking beyond Western?

Take Travolta's Grease for example.  His 1978 movie had featured Swing dancing.  If I had I taken Ballroom Swing lessons back then like Glen had suggested, I could have offered Swing classes in addition to my Disco classes.  I had a couple open time slots during the week.  Swing classes would have definitely been popular at the time.  I still kicked myself for my failure to take advantage of that missed opportunity.

There was another factor as well.  For both Disco and Western, I had been forced to scramble like mad to learn enough material to stay one step ahead of the craze.  Why not learn from that experience and use my free time to prepare IN ADVANCE for the next dance craze?  The crazy shift from Disco to Swing to Western suggested there was no dance fad I could count on to last forever.  Travolta's next movie could very well feature Cha Cha with a sexy Latin honey working her hip motion magic.  A Cinderella remake could have  Travolta dancing a romantic Waltz.  Or a scintillating Tango with a sultry sex goddess.  Based on this line of thinking, the time to learn Ballroom was now, not at the last minute.  If another dance craze came along, I did not know if I could go through this nerve-wracking scramble process again. 

Glen's Ballroom suggestion made all the sense in the world.  Despite my aggravation, the smart move was to prepare in advance.  Why force myself to be a fraud again when I could just as easily begin preparing now?  Given all my free time thanks to Victoria's Limbo, Ballroom seemed like a sensible project.  Just don't expect any miracles. 

I never wanted my Magic Carpet Ride to end.  But first I had to pay my dues.  With that idea in mind, I practiced my Waltz compression while I took my dogs for a walk.