Cabaret SONW
Comedy is an escape, not from truth but from despair; a narrow escape into faith.
-- Christopher Fry
Friday, December 29, 2000
One year ago: Spilled Scent
Two years ago: Swing Out III
Three years ago: New Frontiers
I woke up at my alarm, but decided not to go to breakfast at all. The late night dancing the night before meant I was still sore and tired. I didn't get out of bed until after nine. Even my not-so-comfy bed feels good to me!
I spent an hour writing, but I won't be able to post again -- I'll get these journal entries posted when I get home next Monday. I decided to hit the grocery store before visiting the Cafe Internet for the last time. There's a Safeway right nearby. But what to get?
I settled on another sixpack of diet soda (I don't want to run out!), and some tostitos and dip for midnight snacking. I treated myself to the black-pepper Boursin, which isn't always available. Such a small town atmosphere -- every store I'm in, people are calling each other by name and chatting.
I wanted to check out the convenience store copy machine that the woman at Cafe Interent had pointed me to, although I won't need it until Sunday morning. I found the Jackpot store at the top of the hill. They did indeed still have a machine, and it was working. I talked to the woman behind the counter to make sure they'd be open when I needed them, and inquired as to what the pricebreak would be for two-sided copies. And what if I provide my own paper? She allowed as how her husband would have the final say, since he'd be working when I'll be there.
My last visit to the internet cafe! The newsletters were printed on "orchid", a pale purple which was the printer's choice. I just wanted different pastel colors every day. I went online and checked mail, but there were only a few personal messages (and a never-ending stream of list mail). It still always takes longer than I intend to scan for anything I need to read, then look briefly at the Seattle swing discussion board on delphi.com.
* * * * * * * *
I got back in time to deliver the zines to lunch, dropping off a small pile on the lounge table also. Because my elective class wasn't until two thirty, I had time to go back to my room and get the espresso cart coupons that had been a thankyou from the Savoy Swing Club. I needed to use them up! So I got myself a nice mocha and hung around in the lounge.
The lounge is looking a bit bare -- a few tables and chairs are all the furniture. We should see about bringing in some old couches and beanbags next time. Mike Wendt set up a computer where he's displaying the digital pictures he's been taking, and there's a TV/VCR where various dance vidoes from other dance camps, or old dance documentaries, have been playing.
My elective class was in the same building, upstairs. I'd been skipping the class the last few days, because they were teaching shag, which is a very energetic dance -- fun, but too hard on my knees right now. But today was the first session on Balboa, a smooth, fast dance that I like.
I've had some classes in Balboa before, so my challenge today was to not start critiquing my partners since many of them were doing it for the first time. It was good to get the styling details that Rob and Diane were teaching, too. I had my first balboa class from them at a Portland workshop, a while back.
* * * * * * * *
There was enough of a break in the afternoon that I could do a lot of work on tomorrow's issue of the newsletter. People have been great about giving me material, and there's a funny item for this next issue about a fake class that my buddy Greg Singleton is supposedly teaching. There's been some concern in the lindy hop community about a tendency in some places for folks to dance very slow and bluesy most of the time; this was talked about in the panel discussion last night. When the dance gets too slow, charleston steps (the kicking steps with the couple side by side) become almost impossible to do. So someone (Greg? I'm not sure) wrote up a class that he'll be offering about blues-charleston, intended for sloooow music. Very funny stuff for this audience!
After dinner was the cabaret, an amateur night performance from the campers. First we had to wait in the lobby of the theater, all crammed in, because they weren't quite ready yet. This did have the effect of intensifying the excitement. The show was quite funny! Comedic skits, dances (but not lindy), some singing. My dorm mate Jennifer Hughes did some belly dance that was quite spectacular. I think I'd like to learn that style -- good for the muscles! Joe Ross did a Bob Dylan song, but I don't know why he dressed up like Bob Dylan. It was really good though, and the audience paid close attention after they stopped thinking the song was going to be funny ("It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"). Guy Caridi and Terisa Hawk did a routine with Mr. Bean as a competitor in a Jack and Jill Ballroom Waltz competition, funny on multiple levels. They don't do contest with random-draw partners in ballroom dance, as far as I know. Guy was great as Mr. Bean, with the weird expressions and postures of Rowan Atkinson dancing. The main visual gag in the dance was a strip of toilet paper, first stuck to his shoe, then his hand, then his partners back, then on the floor, then under her skirt, and so on. Guy always comes up with great things at these shows.
Lennart Westerlund emcee'd for most of the show, and did two numbers himself -- a tap number with his partner Catrine Ljundgren, and an extraordinary recreation (The Two Chefs) of an old tap number from the movies, with Mattias Lundmark. He also called Catrine on stage to open a birthday present, which turned into a long comic moment in itself. When she finally got it open, it was purse made out of a pink stuffed-animal poodle. Very funny looking, but it might have had significance beyond being a gag gift.
I give a lot of credit to anyone who volunteers for this event, because they are putting on a show in some tough circumstances! But there weren't any huge gaffes, and everyone had fun.
* * * * * * * *
I thought about going to the late night dancing, and was wanting to even as I drove back to camp after dropping off the newsletter. After all, it had been a quiet day with not much dancing! But when I got out of the car I realized that my feet didn't hurt and I wasn't sore, only as long as I was sitting down. When I started walking up the stairs to the second floor, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Tomorrow night for sure, though.
|
