THE WEIRS TIMES, Thursday, January 13, 2011 Formerly & Everywhere! RFD# to the gulf stream waters 3 to the New York Island by Lorrie Baird jim-lorrie@earthlink.net OUR FIRST BALLROOM DANCE LESSON by Lorrie Baird When we read the bul-


letin announcing the start of ballroom dance lessons at our community club- house one of us was excit- ed. Right away I could pic- ture us gliding gracefully across the dance floor in perfect sync. Jim, on the other hand, is realistic. “The timing is all wrong,”


he protested. “Who wants to learn anything new on a Monday?” “What’s wrong with Monday?” “It’s the first day of the week.”


“You’re retired, what dif- ference does it make?” “In order to learn how to ballroom dance my brain needs to communicate with my feet, right?” I nodded. “My feet won’t listen un- til Tuesday.”


I signed us up anyway. The night of our first dance lesson I showed up in, well, dance clothes.


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Everybody else wore jeans and Capri pants. I stood out like a canary in a flock of sparrows. Right away this wasn’t going as planned. Our first dance was the


basic Foxtrot. We began by learning the steps in- dividually. I’m not saying who…but one of us picked it up a lot faster than the other so it was no surprise to me when an instructor made a beeline toward us. Just when I thought she was going to help Jim, she grabbed my hand, swung me around and proceeded to give me a private lesson in learning how to follow my partner instead of leading him. This was an entirely new concept for me. Next, she turned to Jim


and suggested that he point his over-sized feet forward. (Jim’s feet have had the sideways cast of a bald eagle wing span since birth.) With downcast eyes and looking much like a wounded little boy Jim muttered, “I’m a guy with


Jim’s shoulder and whis- pered in his ear, “Don’t worry about Lorrie, it’s her job to stay away from your feet. Everywhere you go on this dance floor you are in total control and she has to follow you.” Jim perked up like a puppy


I stood out like a canary in a flock of sparrows. Right away this wasn’t going as planned.


three left feet who walks like a duck.” Casting a thumb in my direction he added, “Now she expects me to learn how to ball- room dance?” Did I mention that our instructor is a very attrac- tive lady? She leaned into


after a steak bone. I shot her a grateful glance. With renewed energy and purpose Jim led me back onto the dance floor. He seized my hand, grabbed my back and stood… and stood…and stood as the music played on and


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couples waltzed around us. “I….ummmm…don’t know when to start,” he said, color creeping into his cheeks. “Okay, I’ll count out the


beat and although you’re supposed to be leading me, I’ll time the steps for you. We can do this Jim. It’s a matter of teamwork.” To our surprise we sailed smoothly across the dance floor. It lasted for 45 seconds


until Jim tripped over his own foot. Me? Trying to lead us out of the imbal- ance, I launched both of us sideways and directly into a colonnade. Still, we’re making prog-


ress. We’re getting there. We won’t give up. Now all we have to do is to wait for the bruises to heal.


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