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Mountaineers Club
Who dares to teach must never cease to learn.
-- John Cotton Dana
Friday, February 9, 2001
Two years ago: Good Will Hunting
Three years ago: Shopping
For those of you who tend to only read the latest entry, this batch begins here
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Tonight was the first night of the Jitterbug Weekend. I'd neglected to sign up for any of the classes in time, but I did want to go to the dances, so I decided not to go up to Bellingham this weekend. Of course, once I decided that, I was bummed that I wouldn't get much of a chance to see Jack!
But Jack suggested that I could meet up with him at the train station when he came down to pick up his daughter H----. Good idea! I was there a bit early (of course!) so I parked and read a book for a short time, waiting for him. When he arrived, we had time to go for a snack; the train would be late as per normal for Amtrak.
At first I thought the New Orleans would be too far away, but it was actually only a few blocks. This is one of Jack's favorite places and we've eaten there several times before. I'd already eaten at home, so I just had a piece of chocolate cheesecake while Jack had the full deal with corn fritters, red beans and rice, and a cajun-style chicken breast.
We walked back (cold and breezy, with me in a skirt) and waited for a while, chatting. Then I left for the dance, and Jack got the programming book he was reviewing out of his truck. It was great to see him!
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I hadn't been to the Mountaineers Club for a loooong time -- maybe since I was a member back in the early nineties. I parked in a pay lot when I probably could have found a place on the street, but I didn't want to mess around, I wanted to get in there and dance!
The band was already started -- it was John Holte's Radio Rhythm Orchestra. I'd heard rumors that they've improved lately, and they did sound better than when I heard them in December.
Most embarrassing moment was when I saw Kevin Shaper at the other end of the room, and walked up waving to him all friendly-like. Oops! It wasn't him, it was some other guy in a retro-styled stripey knit shirt and high-waisted pants. Not surprising that these would be popular wardrobe items at this event, since the dance classes were focussed on varieties of Lindy hop where clothing like that is popular. The guy and I laughed when I said, "Oh, guess I don't know you after all!" If I'd been thinking, I'd have asked him to dance anyway, but I was too embarrassed to think of it.
My second most embarrassing moment was when I saw a woman standing at the table where flyers were stacked, announcing other events yet to come. I asked her "Are you going to get out dancing?" She gave me a blank, dumfounded look. "What?" I repeated myself -- I was trying to be encouraging and friendly, but I could tell from her answer (cold, repressive) when she finally understood what I was getting at, that she found my approaching her condescending. Oh, well, I've never seen her before so I doubt I'll run into her again.
I did have fun the rest of the evening, dancing with many folks, and chatting with my old dance buddy Chris Chapman. He'd taught the pre-dance lesson. He said he'd been told to make it for beginners, but when he asked the group who had never done swing dance before, no one raised their hand. So he ended up going beyond the beginning stuff usually taught in such circumstances.
One of my partners is someone I danced balboa with on New Year's Eve at Swingout Northwest. He always compliments me, even though I don't think I've done that well either time. Maybe he just always praises his partners? I do want to keep practicing balboa anyway.
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