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Lindy Exchange 3Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will -- whatever we may think. |
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Sunday, July 25, 1999
We had a fine, lazy morning, VJ, Joseph, and I. Joseph made us lashings of toast, with strawberry preserves, and real butter.
Portland has had an outdoor swing jam for a while, but they just recently moved the venue to a downtown park. I drove, and parked in a garage just around the corner. I found out why this garage had space. (I believe the correct Portland term is "parking structure," by the way.) It had an older ticket-dispensing machine for use on weekends, when there isn't an attendant on duty. The machine only takes coins! Not everyone would have three dollars worth of change handy, and even I had to dig deep into my purse.
Of course, with my neurotic promptness syndrome, I was the first dancer to arrive. There were a few folks, non-dancers, sitting around the brick, tree-shaded courtyard. I walked across the street to the "Coffee People" shop and bought myself a "Velvet Hammer" shake. Wow! It was delicious -- cool, spicy, and creamy.
Other folks arrived even while I was waiting in line. They started up the boombox and folks started dancing. At first, I tried wearing my hush-puppies, since they are more padded than my regular dance shoes, but they were too sticky on the brick and concrete, so I switched.
I had a grand time, dancing and watching the dancers. I did spend some time sitting out, so I chatted with the folks. We had cake, later on, celebrating Shai's birthday. She's a Portland dancer and one of the organizers of the whole weekend.
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VJ decided to go shopping and get food for us to have for dinner at her place. I was really pleased -- she got a lot of the things I've mentioned here before! Polenta, that feta cheese in oil and herbs, even the feta spread I like so much. By the time shopping and cooking was done, I was a bit late for the Crystal Ballroom, but I didn't mind.
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This image is the Crystal Ballroom, without all the people in it, from the time I was here for a dance workshop. When I got there tonight, there were many more folks! But there was room on the dance floor.
The band was Lavay Smith and her Red-Hot Skillet Lickers. They play often in the Bay area, but this was their first time to Portland. They are very good! There was a preponderance of fast tempos. I thought about getting the CD, but it was seventeen bucks!
The evening was warm, so I was glad of the folding Japanese fan I had in my pocket. I fanned myself with it whenever I felt the need. I danced enough that I didn't mind sitting out sometimes. I think my best dance of the night was when Brian (a Seattle dancer and buddy) asked me to dance a slow number. We were just in the groove! I told him afterwards, that there aren't many with whom I'd have felt so comfortable doing that sort of dancing. Getting close is a big part of the style. Tough to do with a stranger! The workshop session on this at Swingout Northwest came in handy for me.
I think I inadvertantly started a jam circle, when all I meant to do was clap along with a fine boogie-woogie piano solo! In Portland, the clapping seems like the signal for a jam (where a big circle forms and folks take turns improvising and showing off in the center). I didn't intend to start one off, and it gave the appearance of ignoring the soloist. One of the San Francisco dancers jumped in to the circle and got folks turned around and paying attention to the stage again. Crisis averted!
When the dance was done (at ten o'clock, because it's Sunday night) and people were saying their goodbys, I was tempted to ask someone to walk me to my car, since I was parked about five blocks away in an unfamiliar neighborhood. But I didn't, and nothing bad happened.
What a fun weekend! I wished, at some points, that I'd taken the dance workshop on Saturday, thinking that if I'd been in class, I'd have had more opportunities to dance later, being a familiar partner to more people. But I don't really know if that's true. I was just frustrated by lack of available partners at some points.
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Oh, I forget to mention what happened when I was driving back to Vicki Jean's house on Saturday night. I turned the corner on to the street that hers branches off of. I noticed a police car behind me, but I wasn't bothered. Then I missed the turn to her street! Oh well, I figured I'd take the next one and drive around the block. But as I pulled up to that next corner, there was a man walking, and about to cross the street. I didn't want to get a ticket for endangering a pedestrian, so I slowed down to give him a chance to cross. But he thought I wanted to make a drug buy, I think! The pedestrian bent over and looked enquiringly into my passenger-side window. So I went ahead and made the turn, the cop car following. They tailed me around the block, me slightly nervous, until I pulled up in front of Vicki Jean's house.
"Are you lost?" one officer asked through the open patrol car window when I rolled my window down. "No, I'm just going to my friend's house, here," I said, pointing to it. "A lot of folks come here to make a buy," they said. I explained the misunderstanding, and they drove on. Lucky for me I'm an older white woman, I think; they'd have pursued the matter further if I'd been someone else.
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