MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR:

TGIS

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH eight
MONDAY NIGHT, FEBRUARY 04, 1980

AN INTERESTING DEVELOPMENT
 

It was Monday, February 4.  This was the second month of my Western Era and the eighth month of Limbo.  The five Beginning Western classes that started in January entered their second month.  I filled my empty time slots on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday with new Beginning Western class, all of which had 30-40 students. 

Tonight marked Month Two of my Monday Night 'Die Hard' Intermediate group.  These students were the pioneers who had insisted I begin teaching Western back in November.  They were also the students who cost me at least 4 Cat Lives during the Ides of Waltz and Fright Night ordeals.  All was forgiven.  We were friends again.

Quite a few students from my 7 pm Beginner class were at Cowboy tonight.  Now that they were in their second month, they were ready to begin dancing in the clubs.  The Beginners were already there when the Die Hards showed up.  The Beginners knew they were coming, so they had deliberately saved two tables.  The Die Hard group was very pleased at theire thoughtfulness.  After taking the open seats, the two groups began introductions.  Once they got acquainted, the Die Hards returned the favor by inviting the newcomers on the floor.  The Intermediate men asked the Beginner ladies to dance and the Intermediate ladies did the same with the Beginner men.  It makes such a difference to dance with someone who already knows what they are doing.  As a result, the Beginner students made dramatic progress.  It was very rewarding to see this happen.  Over time these two groups would merge into a much larger 'Western Superclass' on Monday nights. 

Due to my Limbo Lifestyle, I wasted no time heading over to Cowboy.  After dancing with a half-dozen ladies from my two classes, it was time to sit down, relax, and have a beer.  A moment later Jerry pulled up a chair at the table.  Jerry had once been a serious nemesis, but at this point we were pals.  I owed Jerry a huge favor.  It was his insistence that caused me to offer an Intermediate level in January.  I knew I was taking a huge chance.  Sometimes pioneers die with arrows in their backs, sometimes they survive and get schools named after them.  Worried sick because I had practically nothing to teach, there was no guarantee I could pull this off.  To my amazement, my gamble had paid off in spectacular fashion.

This is what I mean about Dumb Luck.  The idea to offer this Intermediate class in January had never crossed my mind.  Why should it occur to me?    What was I going to teach?  My days of blindness were over.  I had watched countless dancers hoping for an idea.  Nope, there is nothing out there! 

Quite frankly, Western Dancing was so new to me, my insecurity was off the charts.  All I wanted to do was stick to teaching the Beginning level in the new year.  Fortunately Jerry's persistence had given me the courage I needed to stick my neck out.  Now that this Intermediate class was a big success, I was very much in debt to him.

Here is what bothered me.  The Western Era was the reverse of the Disco Era.  Due to my love of Disco music and dancing, I spared no effort in my determination to succeed.  I practically lived at the Pistachio Club.  It was a smart move because this is where I got all my bright ideas for new moves. 

So far in the Western Era I had done everything backwards.  As a result Fate kept dragging me along.  First Meyerland Club had tempted me to learn how to Western dance.  Then Jerry and Lynette had forced me to teach the November Beginner class.  Then the Conspiracy forced me to go dancing at Cowboy.  Then Jerry twisted my arm to teach Intermediate in January.  Behold the Force of Fate.  Strange as it seemed, I kept succeeding in spite of myself.  I could do no wrong during my Brightest Day. 

Fortunately I was no longer doing things backwards.  The breakthrough came when I discovered I could convert Twostep moves into Polka moves.  I smiled at the irony.  'Fake it till you Make it' had been the cornerstone of my first six months as a Disco teacher.  So here we go again.  The moment I realized I could solve my problems by making up my own moves, I was off to the races. 

Then came the next development: Limbo Captivity.  Unwilling to go home to my lonely home, dancing at Cowboy at least four, sometimes five nights a week with students in tow became my habit.  Now that I was dancing regularly in the clubs, each night became a chance to experiment.  I was getting new ideas all the time.  As a result, my January-February Intermediate class had become smooth sailing and Jerry was my new best friend.  Jerry and Lynette were among the first Disco dancers to realize if they wanted to continue dancing, Western was their only option.  However, they were shocked to see how rudimentary the dancing was.  And since I appeared to be the only Western dance teacher in town, they were constantly bugging me to teach them something new.  Please make Western dancing more interesting!  I had resented their urgency in the beginning, but I could see they had done me a huge favor by pushing me out of my comfort zone. 

I took note when Jerry sat down beside me.  Uh oh.  He had that look.  Jerry wants something.  "What's up?"

Jerry began with a compliment.

"Rick, I want to thank you.  Your Reverse Circle Turn class tonight helped me figure out what I was doing wrong.  I have been wanting to do those continuous Reverse Circle Turns forever, but had no luck.  I watch these guys dance all the time, but that doesn't help.  I have trouble figuring stuff out just by watching.  I need someone like you to show me what I am doing wrong.  Your idea about bringing the girl much closer and when to take a strong step between her feet made a big difference.  I tried it here at the club tonight and it works great.  I especially like that tip about avoiding the corners.  On normal Circle Turns, the corners are my friends, but just the opposite for Reverse Circle Turns.  I'm really glad you are teaching this Intermediate class."

Then Jerry frowned.  "I wanted to ask if you intend to teach an Advanced class in March."

"You must have read my mind.  Yes, I think I have enough new ideas to put together another level."

Jerry liked what he heard.  He seemed very pleased.  

"I know I can be a pain in the butt, but your class is the only game in town and I want to get better.  You don't know this, but I have women asking me to dance.  Can you believe that?  .  I'm not a particularly good dancer.  The women say I tend to be rough and I admit I have trouble keeping the beat.  But the ladies like dancing with me because I try things that no one else seems to know.  They like not knowing what's coming next.  One woman even called me 'creative'.  Me?  Creative?  I never thought I would hear that one.  I owe that compliment to you."

That made me feel good.  It was one thing to become Houston's first western teacher thanks to a fluke.  Now I was even getting praise.  Imagine that.  As for Jerry, it felt good to convince a former skeptic that I knew what I was doing.  Jerry was an older guy, 45, maybe 50, kind of gruff, but obviously sold on me after a rough start.  It was curious how important people always seemed to come along at the right time.  At the moment it was my former nemesis who had opened several doors.

"Hey, Rick, I have a question."

"Yes, Jerry, what is it?"

"Have you given any thought to what you are going to teach in your Advanced class?"

I smiled.  "Actually I think about it all the time.  Lately I have seen guys who attempt one-arm turns.  What's your opinion on that?"

Jerry gasped.  "That is exactly what I hoped you would say!" 

I may have given the Reader the erroneous impression that I singlehandedly revolutionized Country dancing.  That was mostly true at the start.  However here in February other dancers had joined the innovation game.  These one-arm turns were a good idea, but I could not take credit.  Someone else was responsible.

Old Country dictated the woman remain confined inside their right arm at all times.  This was known as 'Closed Position'.  Men raised on Old Country stuck to their guns, but the newcomers, especially the former Disco dancers, had an open mind.  They welcomed the chance to add one-arm turns to the mix.  It turned out that people liked innovations because these changes made the dancing more fun, more challenging.   Guys like Jerry were all for it.  It did not take long to catch on that the best dancers caught the attention of the prettiest girls.  Nor did it take long for men to discover the easiest way to make a girl laugh was to surprise her with a turn under his arm. 

It was my theory that ex-Disco dancers were responsible for this exciting new development.  After Disco died a premature death in Houston, the memory lived on in the minds of the dancers.  The men remembered how much fun it was to turn pretty girls.  Girls laughed, girls smiled, girls begged the guys to stop making them so dizzy.  Fortunately the men knew the women secretly hoped he would lead a turn again soon.  Several spins in a row made a girl's long hair float.  Likewise several spins made her skirt fly up to reveal beautiful long legs.  Except that most of the girls wore blue jeans these days.  Oh well.  I guess you can't have everything.  The point is that everyone missed the Disco turns.  And so the refugees looked for ways to incorporate one-hand turns into Twostep and Polka. 

Of course the Old Guard sniffed at such heresy, but do you think the men who were new to the scene cared?  Of course not.  Most of the newcomers were city-born professionals who had never danced Country-Western in their entire life.  Consequently they carried no preconceived prejudice about what Western dancing was supposed to look like.  All they cared about was making their partners laugh.  And so I took complete advantage of the blank slate.  The further we got into the Urban Cowboy-inspired Western Era, the easier it was to introduce my inventions without suspicion.  Oh sure, the guys grumbled once in a while if a new move was too difficult, but one frown from their wife, girlfriend or some lady in the class they were sweet on, their attitude improved swiftly.  As long as the women approved, the men conditioned at this point to cooperate.

To my surprise, I discovered Western dancing had some real advantages over Disco dancing.  By dancing in closed position, if the song was not too fast, a man and a woman could actually engage in a conversation.  Not only that, women discovered they liked being held, especially if the guy was cute and knew what he was doing.  But the women also wished the dancing would get more interesting.  Therefore they were all in favor of one-arm turns.  Why not have it both ways, Closed Position AND Open Position?  Whenever dancing in Closed Position got old, the men could send the lady apart for a fancy one-arm turn.  Throw in multiple Circle Turns and this new style of Country dancing was evolving rapidly. 

MONDAY NIGHT, FEBRUARY 18, 1980

TGIS
 

Jerry liked the compliment.  "Well, good for you.  I am glad to see you back to your old self again.  That reminds me, back in December I suggested you visit a church singles group known as TGIS.  Did you ever follow up on that?"

I remembered the conversation.  At the end of our final class Jerry had lingered behind to tell me something about a place called TGIS.  However, due my miserable love situation with Jennifer and my reluctance to embrace Western as the solution to my dance career woes, I was in no mood to listen.  However, given my growing rapport with Jerry, this time I was in a receptive mood.  

"Yes, that name seems familiar.  Is TGIS the church group you told me about before the Holidays?"

"Yeah, that's the one.  Have you been there yet?"

"No, I am sorry, Jerry, but December was not a good month for me.  However, you have my complete attention now.  Would you mind telling me again what the story is?"

"TGIS is a Church singles group.  We meet each Sunday morning at Memorial Drive Presbyterian Church over in the Memorial area of Houston.  TGIS stands for 'Thank God Its Sunday'.  However, since practically all the members in this group are divorced, we joke that TGIS really means 'Thank God I'm Single'.  Now that these people are on the dating market again, this program is a great place to meet other singles.  I think if you offered Western lessons to these people, you would get a lot of students."

I was suddenly very interested.  One of the quirky aspects of my charmed dance career was that opportunities just kept being handed to me.  I never asked for my first teaching job at the JCC in 1978.  It was handed to me by Rosalyn, my line dance teacher.  Later that same year Lance Stevens handed me the Disco job that put me in position to benefit from Saturday Night Fever.  In 1978 the Jet Set Club and Clear Lake job had been handed to me out of thin air.  Deborah handed me my position at Class Factory.  Glen appeared out of nowhere to become my teacher.  In 1979 Sandy from the Meyerland Club handed me my first Western job.  Every one of these unexpected opportunities had became a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

However, the problem with having things handed to me all the time is that I had no experience at actually 'pursuing an opportunity'.  It was the same way in dance class.  I was extremely bad about asking students to take the next level.  Typically I made Victoria do it for me.  Considering I had never approached anyone to sell my dance classes, when Jerry explained I would have to approach some stranger at TGIS to get permission, my ancient fear of approaching people I did not know was reactivated.  I was also fearful of sticking my neck out too far.  With the Myth of Icarus in the back of my mind, I feared the danger of biting off more than I could chew.  But then to my surprise, I changed my mind.  Maybe this was a good time to return to my Disco Era policy of accepting all offers.  During my Disco career, my 'Accept All Offers' motto had turned out okay 9 times out of 10.  So what about this TGIS idea?  My Jennifer wounds were healed and Victoria was far too preoccupied with her life crisis to cause much trouble.  As long as I stayed clear of enticing women, Victoria gave me free rein to do pretty much whatever I wanted to do.  Although the TGIS situation made me nervous, rather than wallow in fear, I concentrated on what Jerry had to say. 

"Okay, Jerry, you have my complete attention.  Tell me more about TGIS.  If I were to visit on a Sunday morning, what would I see?"

"TGIS is a huge place.  People get there early to mix and mingle.  Then at 11 am, there is an hour-long service.  We typically get a low-key, non-religious self-help sermon of some sort.  One week it might be a local therapist with advice on how to overcome fear.  Next week it might be a motivational speaker.  The idea is that people who are starting over need encouragement to take risks again.  There are two kinds of single people.  There are the young single people fresh out of college who are full of confidence, full of hope.  Filled with dreamy optimism, they are so cheerful I can't stand to be near them. 

Then there are the old, grouchy, cynical people like me.  Most of us have failed at marriage.  Now we are searching for answers to what we did wrong.  Maybe we can do better the next time.  There are a few women in their 20s and 30s, but I avoid them.  I hang with the older crowd, 40s, 50s, 60s.  These Sunday sermons serve as a pep talk to get back out there and try again.  They also give people a perspective on the difficult issues they face being single again.  After the morning pep talk, everyone is revved up to find their next true love."

"How large is the group?"

"Gosh, it's huge.  300?  400?  The place is packed!  I am not kidding."

I raised an eyebrow.  400 people?  All single?  Now Jerry definitely had my attention.   The number one song in America right now was "Looking for Love".  My dance classes were filled with single people Looking For Love.  Singles were my bread and butter.

"What happens after the sermon is over?"

"Ah, that is when we begin the big Square Dance.  Do-si-do, swing your partner, weave the ring.  "

I interrupted.  "Do you guys really square dance?"

Jerry laughed.  "Naw, that's just an expression.  Everyone walks through the crowd checking each other out.  This goes on for a good half hour, sometimes longer if you click with someone."

"What do you do?"

"I keep moving through the crowd.  I smile, make eye contact, do a quick little chat with one lady, then move to the next gal and so on.  This is my chance to look for new faces and visit familiar faces.  I do lots of superficial gabbing, but mostly I am scouting for the next great love of my life.  TGIS is like a supermarket where singles go to shop.  After half an hour of mingling, at some point we get hungry and go somewhere for lunch together."

"400 people won't fit into one restaurant."

"We split into smaller groups and go to different places so one restaurant doesn't get deluged with one big mob.  This is actually my favorite time.  For example, if some lady and I hit it off, I invite her to join me for lunch with the group."

"I had no idea you were such a lady's man."

Jerry laughed.  "In my dreams.  Why do you think I try so hard to get better at dancing?  If TGIS doesn't come through, maybe Cowboy will."

"How do first-time people break into this group?"

"All you really have to do is show up at TGIS, then figure out which restaurant to go to.  Once you get to the restaurant, you walk around till you find a table that has room for one more and ask politely to join.  I've never seen anyone get turned down."

"Then what happens?"

"Lunch with the TGIS crowd is my favorite way to get to know the women.  But you gotta watch what you say.  Some of these older women can be real battle-axes.  They lack the patience to listen to stupid lines like they once did.  They've heard it all before and don't suffer fools lightly.  However, I have to say the women are more relaxed at the restaurant than they would be at a club like Cowboy.  In a dance hall, women have their guard up.  But TGIS is so safe the same women are ready to talk freely, especially once their drinks kick in."

I interrupted.  "There's drinking?"

"Lots of it.  After a glass of wine or some of those pink mimosas, the gals loosen up and say whatever's on their mind.  We have a joke.  "I'm one drink from telling you what I really think."  Let me tell you, after a couple drinks you wouldn't believe the things that come out of their mouths.  I prefer to give those mimosas a chance to kick in.  That's when the women are more approachable.  After a couple drinks, the men loosen up too.  Typically in a group of eight or ten people at a table, there is chemistry brewing with someone.  Half the fun is watching people make goo-goo eyes and play footsie under the table.  They always think they are so clever and discrete, but everyone knows what is going on.  We nod and grin at each other.  We are all veterans, been there, done that.  If people want to get drunk and fool around in public, I say help yourself to happiness.

TGIS Lunch Hour is great.  I try to find a different group each week as a way to meet different women.  However, there is always the risk of saying the wrong thing.  One thing I've learned is that some of these women are pretty bitter.  If someone touches a nerve during the conversation, a woman might get prickly and spend the entire lunch talking about the shitty husband who left her for some young chick.  I've learned to avoid the touchy subjects.  I rarely offer my opinion."

"Why do you think TGIS would be good for me?"

"Ah, I'm glad you reminded me.  Yesterday at lunch the women could not stop talking about Urban Cowboy.  When someone brought up the subject of learning how to Western dance, the table hushed up.  After a moment or so, a woman said she didn't know a single thing about Western dancing.  With that, every single person in the group laughed and admitted they didn't have a clue either.  After they compared notes, everyone got a huge kick out of that.  They thought it was hysterical that none of them had ever been Western dancing in their life.  Some woman piped up, 'Gosh, I wouldn't know what a Polka looked like if it hit me in the face!!'"

Jerry paused to sip his beer, then resumed.

"After the laughter died down, I decided to speak up.  I said I had been out Western dancing several times.  Suddenly everyone looked at me like I was from the moon or something.  I was besieged with questions, especially how I had learned.  When I told them some guy named Rick Archer helped me learn how to dance, they were all very curious about you.  That's why I think you should go over there and ask to teach a class."

My eyes grew wide as flying saucers.  What a difference two months makes!  Back in December, I had not listened to a word Jerry said.  At the time it never crossed my mind that Western was going to be the next big thing.  Now I was all ears.  Thank goodness Jerry had decided to bring the subject up again.  This time I was keenly interested, so I promised I would visit this coming weekend. 

As I drove home that night, I had a very odd thought.  I believed I might be psychologically healthy for the first time in my life.  Now that the Year of Living Dangerously had shown me I could survive virtually anything, I was more confident than at any time in memory.  Let me add there was something very calming about the thought that I was doing exactly what God wanted me to do.  Every time someone told me I was the only Western teacher they knew, it made no sense.  The interesting thing was the ability to draw on my previous Disco experience to know exactly what to do here at the start of the Western Era.  It would have been nice to have Victoria's help again, but it was no longer necessary.  At age 30 I was finally ready to run Showtime all by myself. 

 

SUNDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 24, 1980

A VISIT TO TGIS
 

On Sunday morning, February 24, I visited the TGIS program for the first time.  The service was held at Memorial Drive Presbyterian, a prosperous church in located in Houston's posh, tree-lined Memorial area.  While members of the church had Sunday service in the chapel, the TGIS program was held in a different area.  I got there late on purpose.  I wanted to see but not be seen.  I gasped when I entered the lecture hall.  Service had begun, so everyone was seated.  Standing in the doorway, I surveyed a vast sea of people.  I had no idea how many people were there, but the sheer number was staggering.  People stretched as far as the eye could see.  The room seemed to hold 300 to 400 people.  This was no ordinary group of people.  The room stretched from sea to shining sea with single people.  Not a wedding ring in sight!  Given that the secret of my success was 'Boy Meets Girl', I began to salivate.  Staring in open-mouthed amazement at the business potential before me, I remembered the Mistress Book advice which had started me on my Path.

"I laugh at the stiffs who try to buy their way into a woman's arms.  Let them spend their money and buy women drinks all night long.  Maybe it works, most of the time it doesn't.  What a bunch of fools.  If they would just ask the girl to dance first, they would save themselves a lot of time.  Dancing works like a charm.  There is no faster way to get a woman you don't know in your arms than by asking her to dance.  Considering the potential pay-off, a man would be foolish not to invest energy into acquiring such a valuable skill."

I had to laugh.  After following the macho man advice of the Mistress Book, I was no closer to having the upper hand with women today than I was six years ago.  Indeed, at this very moment, I was the captive boy toy of a woman who treated me like a puppet. 

On the other hand, the author's advice on dancing had been right on the money.  Dancing was the closest thing to Love Potion #9 on earth.  Social dancing had proven to be a premier strategy for meeting women and vice versa. 

Throughout my Disco days, single people were the life blood of my classes.  There were married couples of course, but 70% of my students were single.  As I gazed out over this ocean of prospective students, my heart raced.  Jerry was right about the real reason these people were here.  My imagination suggested these TGIS people were not here for the sermon, but rather to do-si-do with a new boyfriend or girlfriend. 

I smiled.  Jerry had handed me an extraordinary opportunity.  Thanks to my nightly visits to Cowboy and other clubs, Western Dancing was the coming thing, I was more sure than ever before.  Right now no one in this room knew who I was, but I had the power to teach every person how to use C&W dancing to kindle their new romance.  I was drooling.  As the Plains Indians would say, the buffalo are plentiful. 

What would happen if someone convinced these people that Western dancing could lead to romance?   Given how ravenous these people were for love, good grief, there might be a stampede!

All I needed was someone's permission.  However, there was one major problem.  My ancient fear of approaching strangers had just kicked in.  I would have to ask a total stranger for permission to teach a Western class.   Overcome with a massive fear of rejection, I found myself rooted to the floor.  How would I ever take advantage of this great opportunity if I was too paralyzed to act?