Tracy and I were invited to the Pioneers Dinner and Dance. Since we are newcomers to Meeker, we didn’t really feel qualified to attend. Thanks, Johnnie, we really enjoyed ourselves. Thanks to the officers, helpers and Jan, it was well attended. The food was great and servers always ready to help.
The highlight of the evening was meeting Gus, Christine and a whole bunch of people that I had the privilege of writing into the Rio Blanco Family Tree (on-going project for the Historical Society). It is great to put faces to the names I encountered in records.
For the most part, Tracy and I felt awkward. We compared it to attending a high school party with people from another school, or someone else’s family reunion. After the speeches and awards for longevity, longest marriage, and farthest travel, they cleared a dance floor and the fun began. Now Tracy and I felt more comfortable. What is the expression? “Dance like no one is watching?” Well, that was easy enough. We really didn’t know anyone on the dance floor! I take that back. William, my winter walking buddy, was dancing. I figured, if he could do it with an oxygen tank, we could dance in street shoes.
We stepped on to the floor listening for the beat from the drum set, keyboard and steel guitar. All of the sudden, our time machine took us back 1975, dancing at our VFW in Lafayette. We had been taking dance lessons a’la Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. The lessons, as a young man with two left feet and no rhythm, severely tested our marriage vow. You know the one that says better or worse or sore toes?
The VFW was homework to test our skills in the real world. We looked around the floor and discovered everyone was dancing different. Nothing was like the smooth moves our instructors showed us. As a matter of fact, the only thing the dancers seemed to agree on was the direction of flow around the smoky, loud room. We had learned the basics to waltz, box step, swing and a little polka. What we encountered was a dance locally called the two-step and a highly energized version of polka involving a high back kick combined with a wild spin. To say the least, we, as a young couple, were intimidated. Another, more veteran couple in our dance class later listened to our scary experience. They laughed and explained that was normal thing. They took us under their wing, and taught us what I call defensive dancing.
We learned to get on to a dance floor and move at the same speed as the crowd. When things got crowded and nobody had room to move, we learned to “stake out our territory,” with use of bold wide movements and generous use of extended elbows. We learned how to avoid other dancers on collision courses and polka dancers with spike heels. We also learned that serious dancers don’t drink much. Competitive dancers drink pops all night. I also learned competitive dancers don’t have fun. They want people looking at them. Sooo, henceforth, go ahead and dance like no one is watching.
by ED PECK – Special to the Herald Times
