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CanadiansI see Canada as a country torn between a very northern, rather extraordinary, mystical spirit which it fears and its desire to present itself to the world as a Scotch banker. |
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Friday, April 10, 1998
I was listening to something quite different today, a Green Pajamas compilation CD that Joe Ross sold me last night at dance class. The name of the CD is Indian Winter. It's a collection of various singles and unreleased songs dating from 1985 till 1996. I like it! Rock, supposedly psychedelic revival, but easy to take. Got Real Audio? There are sound samples here.
Joe looks so young in the pictures! Well, the band did get started thirteen years ago.
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I got a surprise this afternoon! I came home to get ready for my evening plans, and found a message from Andy, a Canadian man who contacted me from my Yahoo personal ad a while back. He was calling from Renton, which is about twenty miles away from Seattle! He had called me on Wednesday from Olympia (he does a fair amount of travelling in his job) and I had told him my schedule for the evening. Since his plans were a bit unclear at that point, we left it up in the air for that night, so I wasn't perturbed when I didn't see him. Turns out he got ill that night, and stayed in Olympia (the state capital of Washington) until Friday.
So I continued getting dressed for the evening, and the next call I got was Andy, calling from the 7-11 a block from my house! I had given him directions on Wednesday. I told him I had plans, but that we could chat for forty five minutes or so. He was on my doorstep in a minute.
We sat in the livingroom and talked about this or that. I was telling about my plans for the weekend, and it became clear that Andy didn't know I had an online journal! He had looked at my web page, but hadn't investigated that link. So I told him a bit about it, and checked that he was ok with me naming him here.
Andy gave me a ride downtown, and dropped me off near the hostel where Darren was staying.
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For Darren's own account of this evening, read his Easter trip report.
As I said on Tuesday, Darren "Lifelog" Holloway (also from Canada, by the way) is in town for an Easter weekend getaway. He had suggested (or looking back at our mail, maybe I proposed it!) that we should get together and do some dancing. I guess I suggested the dancing, and he countered with the addition of dinner beforehand. I'd already sent him URLs for some possible restaurants, and when I sent the link for the special Metro transit page that tells you how to take public transportation from the airport, he said, "Jeez, does Seattle have a URL for everything?"
It had been showery earlier in the afternoon, but luckily it cleared up by the time I arrived at the Union street hostel. I waited in the lobby (seems an exaggerated term for the spartan entryway) for a few minutes, then Darren appeared. He had gone to special efforts to bring a suit jacket along on the trip, since usually it's jeans and t-shirt on his weekend jaunts. A bit of confusion on whether to shake hands or hug was decided by me hugging him. We'd be dancing later, after all! We walked off to the restaurant, a distance of a few blocks.
I had made reservations at Avenue One, which were entirely unnecessary since we were the only people in the dining room at first. It's a beautiful place, with art deco touches and gorgeous woodwork. Darren took a picture of the mural high up on one wall; it was based on some Impressionist paintings, but neither of us could remember which ones. The waiter was the most patently insincere person I've ever met! I was sticking my tongue in my cheek whenever he spoke to us.
We started by sharing an appetizer plate, listed as "Bistro plate: a collection of amusements" on the menu! How could we resist it? The amusing things were crostini with marinated tomatoes, a morsel of smoked salmon, a small serving of pate with bread, a shredded root vegetable with a blue cheese dressing (Darren thought it was parsnip, I thought it was jicama), a skewer of grilled beef tidbits, carrot slaw, marinated beets, and two deviled egg halves. Then Darren had herbed salmon, and I had grilled ahi, both very tasty. Dessert was crême brulée for him and pot de chocolate for me. We were stuffed!
During dinner we discussed journal topics, dance stuff, job stuff and being single. The history of Seattle also came up. I discovered that I had forgotten to put a floppy disk in my camera! So we stopped at the drug store on the way to the bus stop, and I bought a box.
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So my slinky navy blue outfit finally saw some dance action tonight! We arrived at the Century Ballroom just as Hallie was starting the lesson. Because the band for the evening plays quite a few slow numbers, she was teaching blues dancing, or as it is also called, the "grind". A simple dance, where one is intended to feel the music. You do get up close and personal with your partner, or you can if you wish. I was surprised and pleased when Hallie pulled me out of the line to demonstrate with her how if the follow puts her hand on the lead's shoulder in a certain way, he can't get so close, or if she does it another way, he'll be right up in there.
The band started and we started dancing. Darren had said a few weeks ago that he wasn't a swing dancer, but I think he took a few lessons before the trip! He had a slightly different style than I was used to, but we soon adapted to each other. We did the grind on some of the slow numbers, and took a trip across the hall where they were doing Argentinian Tango and did some ballroom-style Tango. We also (back on our side of the hall) did waltz, foxtrot and quickstep when Darren thought the music called for it! He said I didn't do too badly for not being a ballroom dancer, and I revealed that I have learned bits of social dance stuff over the years. I had dance as a college P.E. credit, took some lessons with a boyfriend in the 80s, and took class at the Mountaineers club in the early 90s. But I've never done it consistently. Luckily, an experienced lead like Darren can lead a non-experienced follow.
So I think we sat out a few dances during the evening, and I did the Lindy with a few guys, but other than that, it was dance! dance! dance! I think it must be the ballroom custom to lead your partner off the floor, arm in arm, at the end of each number, because Darren would maneuver us into doing that after each dance. There was enough room on the floor that we could travel, cut up, and play! I'm feeling confident enough in my dance skills that I like to do that, now!
We were the last couple to leave the floor at the end of the evening, and I showed Darren the bus stop he needed to get downtown again. I laughed after I caught myself giving him explicit instructions on how to find his hostel again! He's been all over Europe by himself, after all!
So what a fun evening! Thanks, Darren!
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