18+ Dance Adventures

18+ Dance Adventures!
(My resolution for 2018)

Time to get dancing! My plan for 2018 is to have at least 18 new kinds of dance adventures. As this photo reveals, I am no serious dancer. My son's wedding in November was a reminder of how much I love to dance, even though I have few opportunities and little talent. I did take some ballet, jazz & tap classes as a teenager, but rarely could I be persuaded to get on the dance floor at a party. Now is the time to get out there, lose those inhibitions and have some fun with all kinds of dance!

Let The New List Begin!

Number 1 - Spontaneous Dancing in Thailand
(Inspiration for my Resolution)

I was in Thailand over the holidays and for some crazy reason, I ended up dancing at the Bangkok Flower market.

It was New Year's Eve day and I was strolling with family, through the bustling, 24-hour market. I heard some music, possibly coming from an boombox, so I followed the sound. I spotted the woman in red, having a good time dancing, while her daughter, (I'm guessing) egged her on. A couple of family members laughed along and encouraged me to join in. I did, and we had a silly time of it for less than 5 minutes, until we both pooped out. The son offered my hubby a beer and we were able to visit a bit, thanks to my son's father-in-law, who speaks Thai. Fred laughed later that I experienced what the Thai call, "sanuk". The Thai culture believes sanuk, or fun (particularly with others) is important. I agree!

Back in the States I had time to think about the importance of sanuk and how much fun I had dancing and carrying on with strangers. A lightbulb went off in my head, 2 weeks into January. "I will dance more in 2018!" So that's how I will achieve a little more SANUK in my life!

Number 2
Folk Dancing & Houston International Folk Dance Club

After deciding to push myself with a goal of 18 new dancing adventures, I researched the possibilities. Actually, the HIFD Club has been on my radar for a couple of years. When I first learned about the club, I knew it must be pretty successful since it's been around since 1947!

I was eager to give the Monday night group a try, since it was geared towards learning dances. I have fond memories of folk dancing in high school in the mid-seventies, but I've done nothing since. So I put a holler out to friends, but found no one able or interested in joining me, so I showed up alone.

This photo shows just part of the welcoming gang that made me feel totally at home!

Oddfellows

The old Oddfellows building in The Heights was quite dark and unwelcoming, when I arrived 30 minutes early. But before long I was upstairs in the lit up meeting room (dance hall) being greeted by smiling "regulars", ready to begin 2.5 hours of dancing.

I was the only new one, but luckily a few "teachers" took turns guiding us through new dances. Most dances had us in a circle or line, holding hands. (I was corrected right away to have my left palm down, right palm up.) After a bit of stepping, gliding, tapping and clapping, we put the steps to music and the room came to life. It was impossible not to smile as I moved (and often fumbled) with this group. Irish music, Serbian, Israeli and Greek! So many kind of sounds and steps. Everyone graciously put up with my mistakes. At times my ab muscles got the best workout, from laughing at myself.

Couples Dance

At one point, we took a break from group dancing and couples began hitting the floor for a little German polka. There was no instruction, each couple was on their own. Thank goodness a sweet man, (a bit older and much more confident) got me out on the floor. "Lean back!" He insisted. "Hold your arm out more firmly."

I always thought I knew how to polka, but this guy had it down. When I finally stopped trying to lead and trusted his palm on my back, I leaned back and we were suddenly spinning. Woohoo! That was a hoot!

What a great and welcoming bunch. Some brought snacks to share, one man even brought his sweet dog. Then when everyone put their $4.00 into the jar to pay for the building rental, I was told no. "It's your first time." I slipped mine in anyway. 2.5 hours of fun for 4 dollars! A bargain!

What a time! I hope to try this again!

Number 3 - Bollywood Fitness

I've been intrigued with Bollywood, the Indian Hindi-language film industry for a while. The colorful, happy-energy dance scene (Bollywood style) in the ending of the movie, "Slumdog Millionaire" totally delighted me.

Since I live in the Houston area there is no excuse for not giving this kind of dance a try. There are Bollywood Dance classes available all over the place. I decided to play it safe and start with a fitness class, using Bollywood style music and dance movements. I found "infused Performing Arts Studio" on the internet and called up. That evening I arrived to try out a complimentary class.

I wore comfortable clothing, but didn't know what to do about shoes. My flip flops came off and I did the hour class, which involved lots of jumping, in bare feet. Ouch.

I also did something that I learned from being the "new kid in school" many times. I made a buddy quick, by introducing myself to the first person I saw. She gave me a few pointers. The most important one, was to drink lots of water.

Our teacher was wonderful! She dimmed the lights and lit the room with blue and green lights. Then the music started and all I could do was smile... and occasionally laugh at my mistakes. Some of the moves were already stored in my muscle memory from past dance classes. I felt pretty proud when I could follow along without instruction. Other moves, which might be common in traditional Indian dance, were foreign to my body. I fumbled and stumbled along and grinned. The music and atmosphere me made forget I was 60. Luckily I was only sore and not injured the next day.

Best of all, I had fun and I worked up a good sweat. My hair was extra curly when I left. Now I have more confidence and I'm ready to try a real Bollywood Dance class!

Number4
Thai Dance in Bangkok & Hand Dance in Texas
My little bit of dancing in Thailand inspired my fourth dance adventure of the year.

Back in Thailand, I had some fun witnessing traditional Thai dance while dining on a river cruise. I got teased into getting up and giving it a try. I learned quickly that my hands are not a bit flexible. My daughter-in-law and her cousin showed me the skills I lacked.

Hand Dancing with the Seniors

So this week, I shared a little Thailand with some of the senior groups I volunteer with. We studied a video first, then let the exotic music inspire our hands. A few thought this might be great exercise for their arthritis. I thought it might be better exercise for our abdominals, since we were doing a lot of laughing. None of us could curl our hands backwards the way the video showed.

We had fun dancing, without really using our feet. I think it qualifies for a mini-dance adventure... at the very least!

Number 5
Holiday Inspired Dancing at Home

Mardi Gras First

Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) and Valentine's Day were back to back this year. My hubby and I stayed home both nights and celebrated without crowds.

On Tuesday, we blasted a little New Orleans style music and Don made Hurricanes. The music made me glad I was home and not out with parade crowds in the French Quarter. I'm the kind who gets quiet when crowds get wild. At home I let the music inspire some whacky dancing... and marching. It's hard not to do a little crazy marching and singing when you hear, "Oh when the Saints, come marching in..."

By the way, this photo was taken before I took a sip of my hurricane.

Dancing with My Valentine

I usually steer away from Hallmark cards on Valentine's Day, but I found some that included records! Yay! I bought a card with a "45" that played Bruno Mars', "Just the Way You Are" on one side and "Marry You" on the other! How could Don say no, to heading upstairs to the game room and spinning that cute little thing on the retro record player?

Don and I were ready to give it a whirl, but that blasted record warbled like Bruno was singing underwater. We messed with the speeds and checked the needle. It was flawed! (Really mad at Hallmark now!) So I grabbed a very fine dance album, bought for less than a dollar at Half Price Books a couple years ago. That heavy RED disc just hollered out, "Happy Valentine's Day!" We polka danced, we waltzed, we stepped on each others toes! We finally collapsed and I had tears streaming from laughter. We are such a bad dancing team! But it was so fun. And we'll probably both be sore from our Valentine Dancing!

Number 6
First Ballet Class in 40 Years

I never took dance as a child, but I twirled and leapt throughout the house, like the ballerinas I saw on TV. The photo I dug up appears to show that I had an interest in... modern dance? If I'd had a clue that there were ballet studios with classes for children, maybe I would have begged. But our house was my studio/stage.

At the age of 15 my friend and I found a ballet studio in the Yellow Pages and we called up about classes. Jenny and I used babysitting money to buy leotards and ballet slippers and to pay for classes. We loved it.

At 16, my family left Tallahassee and I found another studio in my new town. The Ann Arbor studio was rigid and thrilling. There were strict color rules for leotards and tights. Hair had to be in a bun. I loved the tiny, ancient woman who played the piano for the class. When our instructor halted her playing to give instruction, I sometimes feared the sweet piano player would nod off and fall from her bench.

I was delighted to be in higher level class. I was in awe of the more experienced dancers, who kept their chins lifted and walked in "turn out" even when they left the studio. But, it was hard to keep up and I didn't last long. I didn't attempt ballet again until I took a class my freshman year of college.

My ballet class at Webster College did not prove rewarding. I remember returning from Christmas break, eager to get back to the music and movement that brought me such satisfaction. My instructor greeted me with a sigh. "Oh, Beth," The words were spoken with drama and disappointment. "I had so hoped you might reduce over the holiday." I wanted to smack that teacher, who suddenly seemed concerned about my Freshman 15 weight issues. I lost a little of my enthusiasm for ballet that day.

Ballet Once Again

So this morning, I took my first ballet class since college. I had no leotard, so I just wore a shirt and Nike tights. I did have a nifty pair of the ballet shoes... the cheapest I could find on eBay. I walked into the purple studio at Creative Crossings, where Jennifer was ready to teach a small Open Class to all levels.

Two of the 4 students had a ballerina air about them, but I wasn't intimidated. I'm 60! I haven't taken a ballet class in 40 years, I thought. It's so fun to have excuses, but I didn't need any. Jennifer was as relaxed as a ballet teacher could be. She was encouraging, when I fumbled a bit. But mostly my body seemed to remember as I followed along.

I loved holding the barre and hearing the music and the familiar terms... "plie, grand plie, releve, tendu and arabesque..."
For just one hour, I felt a little bit graceful. It felt good to realize my muscles could remember. I think my muscles (and joints) will be reminded tomorrow, as well! But that's fine. I left smiling!

Number 7
Dancing at My Daughter's Wedding

Warm-Up in November, at Scott and Chali's Wedding

Dancing at weddings is the best! I'm just saying that. I've actually danced at very few weddings to be honest. But now, I'm getting the hang of it!

Before I even started my Year of Dance Challenge, I got a little practice at my son's wedding. Scott picked the best music, "Si Tu Vois Ma Mere". Our Groom & Mom dance, will be top on my most memorable dance list. I'm glad I got to follow it up with some crazy, polka dancing with Scott's buddy, Braxton... and some also, very serious dancing with friends!

Heidi and Jamie's Wedding

On March 25, I added Number 7 to my list! Dancing at my daughter's wedding allowed me the best kind of dancing ever. There was no spotlight to worry about, just the fun of watching Heidi dance with her husband and her father. After both, I could breath a big sigh of happy, that all had fallen into place on a beautiful spring evening! I was ready to get up and swirl my skirt!
I will add... my great-nephew Colden totally wore me out!

Number 8
Bharatanatyan Dance

I recently learned there was a classical Indian dance class, available in my neighborhood. I communicated with the teacher by email, about trying the class. Shashi suggested I wear some kind of tunic and loose pants. I also needed a dupata to tie around the waist.

Luckily I had an Indian outfit, purchased from Goodwill a year ago. I wore a long cotton shirt instead of the stiff tunic, but the pants and dupata worked fine.

I headed 1 mile to the neighborhood clubhouse on a Saturday afternoon, ready to learn. I had no idea what was involved.

Oops!

I arrived to the classroom early. Imagine my surprise when the room began to fill with about 14 little girls. Their mothers gathered around, sitting on the floor in their own colorful attire. They pulled out notebooks to assist their daughters with instruction later. The instructor, Sashi, arrived in flowing fabrics and graciously welcomed me, as if I wasn't twice the size of my classmates... none of which were there for the first time.

Shashi invited to me to observe and/or join in. I watched for a while, in awe. Shashi's voice guided the children through a sort of spiritual opening routine. She invited me to join and I stood in the back, feeling like an oversized, Will Ferrel in "Elf", towering above the other students. Then for nearly an hour, I moved to the beat of Shashi's rhythm on a wooden block, following her instructions and the other children. I learned to stomp and how to keep my torso fixed, shoulders back and knees flexed outward. There were numerous hand signs that symbolized different thoughts. We jumped, we chanted, we did a special thank you prayer at the end.

Yes, I felt a little silly for a while. I'm sure the kids were perplexed as to why I was there. I was old. I had no mom there taking notes for me. I looked different. I'm sure the moms also wondered. But I was happy I'd gone. I felt more pleased than embarrassed when I finished class. I was so grateful that Shashi let me be a part of her class, even if it was for children. I raced home like a little kid and begged Don to watch what I'd learned. I tried to tell him some of the history Shashi had shared, but I was already forgetting.
I won't return to join the kids' class. But now I'm inspired and a little more brave to take on a Bolllywood class!

Number 9
Dancing at an Indian Hindu Wedding

In April, we were invited to a very special wedding. Our son was best man for his childhood friend, Suraj. I was eager to know there would be lots of colorful dancing!

What to Wear?

I was pretty darn excited when we were encouraged to come dressed in festive Indian clothing. I shopped in Houston's "Mahatma Gandhi District", where you can park once and find about 20 sari shops within walking distance. I found a purple "saleaar kameeze" for the "Sangeet" on Thursday night. I bought a pink and gold "lehenga" for the "Baraat Arrival" and "Sumuhurtham" Friday morning. On Friday evening, I ended up wearing formal "western" clothes for the reception. I lost count of all the stunning outfit changes made by the bride and groom!

Dancing

There were festive dances woven into every event! I loved observing the movements and gestures, the smiles and energy! A drummer accompanied much of the rhythmic dancing. Bollywood style music filled both venues, as well!

On both Thursday and Friday nights, Don and I along with our daughter-in-law, were welcomed to the dance floor. Our son Scott was already warmed up, with all the dancing responsibilities of the bridal party. I tried to follow along with some of the movements, which I sort of recognized from my recent class. But mostly we just smiled and clapped and jumped a little bit.

What an incredibly happy and colorful celebration!

Number 10
Mexican Hat Dance

Cinco de Mayo 2018!

I know that Cinco de Mayo is not such a big deal holiday in Mexico. It's sort of an excuse for Americans to drink margaritas and act a little crazy. But I still thought there might be a celebration in the Houston area where I could enjoy a little festive food, music and dance. I gave up my search.

Instead, Don and I had our own celebration in the backyard with margaritas and mariachi music. I dusted off the old sombrero that Don's family got in Mexico when he was a kid. Then I proceeded to dance the Mexican Hat Dance by myself... and for any curious neighbors who might be watching. The recorded version I have, is very long and by the time I finished many minutes of "A-jump, a-jump, a-jump, clap-clap, a jumpity-jumpy-jump, clap-clap" I was thoroughly exhausted!

And yes, I did dance around the hat as well.

Number 11
Polish Festival Dancing

Food & Dance at the Polish Festival

Last weekend Don and I attended the annual Polish Festival at Our Lady of Czestochowa Polish Church. I was a little jealous of Don's heritage, since his grandfather came from Poland to Ellis Island, as a young boy. I yearn for roots in a fun culture!

We enjoyed some traditional Polish dance performances while we dined on perogis and cabbage rolls. I was hoping Don's Polish beer would make him more game to hit the dance floor with me, when they opened it up for my favorite... polka dancing!

Joining In

But Don said it was too hot. It was warm, but mostly Don is just not as big a fan of the polka as I am. But, before I had a chance to pout about that, the dancers asked for some volunteers on the dance floor. Don seemed mighty excited all of a sudden. "Here's you chance!" He knew he was off the hook.

I was surprised that very few were jumping at the invitation to join the dancers, dressed in flowered skirts, and dancing knickers. But by the time I got up there, others began to fill out the circle. Let me just say, I did a darn good job, circling with the group, clapping and wiggling my hips. Can I please NOT SAY, that what I ended up volunteering for, was the annoying chicken dance?

I would have much preferred to pour my energy into a brisk Polish polka! But at least I can say, I danced at the festival!

Number 12
A Hula Class!

My Encouraging Hula Friends

These are the women who allowed me to stumble along, in their Friday night Hula Class. They were the most gracious, lovely women, wearing their Hula Pa'u Skirts. At least I'd been tipped off ahead of time about dress code. No coconut bras and grass skirts in this class. I dug up a tropical wrap skirt and it worked fine.

Finding the Place

Finding the studio was tricky. I followed my GPS and it took me to a closed tutoring business. Hmmm? There was a dance studio two doors down, with some kind of jamming party class in progress. It looked so fun, I almost just joined in, but my floral skirt gave me away. I was pointed towards another studio, in back.

Hula Kids and Moms

A class for children had just ended at 7:30. A few parents headed off with little ones in colorful skirts, wearing flowers in their hair. Some children weren't leaving though. They were the kids of the women who were getting ready to take the adult class. For a moment, I felt like I was an intruder at Young Mom's Club. I could have been the mom of any of these women. But that didn't last. Suddenly Kanoi, the teacher, was introducing me to the others. Next, I was following along, with lots of encouragement and smiles.

Kanoi started class, seated on the floor beating the rhythms on a hollow double gourd. We went through some basic footwork exercises and that wasn't too bad. Now and then a mom would attend to the kids. Now and then, the smallest of the bunch wandered up to stand at the mirror or give the drum a few beats.

The little girl's mother gave me lots of tips. I stood behind her and followed. Sometimes her little toddler came to her and the mother swooped her up onto a hip and continued to dance. "You're getting an extra workout!" I laughed, when we took a break. "Yes! The best kind!" She answered, with a huge smile.

Then Arms...

The class progressed, adding arm movements to the feet. There were flowing movements for falling rain and mountains and shivering from cold. But my feet and hips were only beginning to catch on. I realized quickly, I was better off doing arms or feet, not both.

Ending Pose

Thank goodness for repetition. Each dance ended with the same pose. That I could do!

It was like giving a loud Amen! at the end of a prayer you can't remember. I jumped in at the end of each fumbled dance, with a bent knee, pointed toe and extended arms. Very satisfying! I also added an extra big grin, as if that would make up for all the hand movements I left out.

End With a Prayer

Then it was 8:30 and class came to an end with a group prayer. The children were invited to join the circle and one little girl looked worried about holding my hand. I let her know that I was okay with her stained fingers... orange from Cheetos. I wasn't sure if the prayer was a traditional thing or a teacher's choice. But it seemed to fit with the family feel of the class. Even with the noise of the party class seeping through the door, our little classroom felt like an escape to a tropical island. But instead of visiting a resort, I'd gone into someone's home... where kids play off to the side and Kanoi grabs her ukulele and experiments a bit.. where a newcomer is invited to join in, without being judged! Yay for Hula!

I got home and made sure to show Don my ending pose. I didn't attempt to show him how to do the crazy-8 pattern with my hips, because I can't! I've got a lot to learn.

Number 13
Greek Dancing at Festival

Houston's 23rd Annual Greek Festival

Houston is a great place to live if you're wanting to experience different kinds of cultural dance. After enjoying a Polish festival 2 weeks ago, I was pretty excited to see what Houston's Greek Festival might offer. I've had a thing for Greek music since I was a kid and my parents played "Zorba the Greek" on the hi-fi!

St. Basil The Great Orthodox Church

It was just 3 dollars to get into the the festival at St. Basil's. At the ticket table, a sweet woman with the Greek accent seemed sort of surprised that I just wanted one ticket. Then she seemed rather delighted that I'd come by myself. Maybe she understood how fun it can be, to be your own date now and then. There was no one to please but Me.

Joining In

After entering the festival area, I went directly to the stage, where they had just invited the audience to join the dancers who had just performed. There was no one stopping me. I just stepped right up on that stage and grabbed a free hand. In seconds our line was snaking around the stage and I did my best to follow the costumed dancers, with their rhythmic steps and kicks. The humid Houston air made hands sweaty. Fingers gripped tighter, when the pace quickened. I managed to step down off the stage without falling as the dancing spread out and wove through the chairs. I grinned and laughed and remembered a Greek Festival in Ann Arbor, Michigan, when I was 18. That summer night, crowds danced in the flooded streets, despite rainstorms. I remember laughing as I lost my grip. I got slightly trampled, but it had been more funny than scary.

So at St. Basil's, I had fun dancing and remembering. After a couple dances, the band took a break and I chatted with the very sweet Flora, who must have been melting in her costume.

What a wonderful dance adventure I had, all by myself. Now, I'm ready for that trip to Greece, that I've always dreamed about!

Number 14
Israeli Folk Dance

Fond Memories

This nerdy high school yearbook photo, is one that most would avoid sharing. I'm on the far right, looking like I'm making trouble. But I loved folk dancing in high school and I have fond memories of circling with arms linked, kicking and grapevine-ing. My favorite dances were the Israeli circle dances, especially Hava Nagila... when the music would speed up to a frantic pace. So much fun!

Houston's Evelyn Rubenstein Jewish Community Center

I was pretty thrilled when I Googled Israeli Folk Dance and found weekly classes, posted on the Jewish Community Center website. I showed up at 7, with a sash tied around my waist, as if that would make me look like I knew what I was doing.

Dee, the instructor was getting ready to start up class with 2 gentlemen. She assured me, the first dances were easy. Without discussion, we 4 suddenly began circling to the right, then center, then kick then pause. The minor key music encouraged me, with an easy, slow rhythm. I was feeling pretty giddy that my feet could follow so well. I was impressed when I heard voices, singing along in Hebrew. Wow, I wish I could do that, too.

My confidence lasted for less than 10 minutes.

Stumbling Along!

As we danced, the quiet group of 4 became a more relaxed circle of 8, then 10. There were greetings and quick conversations as members entered the room and joined in. They all knew one another and all seemed to know every dance.

The dances were no longer easy, but I trotted along, usually in the correct direction and sometimes not. Dee kept the flow of the class going, yet offered a few tips along the way and encouraged me to stay behind her, to follow. Eventually I backed out and got water and watched, until I was ready to jump in and stumble along some more. I wanted so badly to just know the dances so I could let muscle memory take over and just enjoy like the others.

Some dances had a little skippity- step, that felt so natural and fun. I just wanted to leave the circle and do that skippity-step all over the room. What I really wanted to do was just be like the others and let the music remind my body what to do. But I haven't earned that ability with years of practice. So I let the kid in me go ahead and swirl and twirl and kick and skip. Now and then I actually matched the others. The adult in me tried not to think about how silly I actually looked.

After 2 hours, I was pooped. The group was going strong at 9, but I offered a huge thanks and headed home. By that time I had chatted with nearly everyone in the group. Dee had given me a CD of music and others had invited me to return and try out some other groups and camps.

As I drove home I laughed at my own bumbling attempts to join in. I also sighed that I had been welcomed and included so graciously. Once again, I found myself yearning to be a part of a different culture or ethnicity.

Number 15
Dancing With Statues

I tried to enjoy an educational dance adventure while visiting Saratoga Springs, in upstate New York... but the National Museum of Dance was closed. I was pretty curious about what would be inside that museum, housed in an old bathhouse, on the edge of town.

So I had to settle for some playful dancing, with statues. Even Don got in the fun and posed with a headless form. We'll go museum-ing, another time.

Number 17
Ragtime Dance

Norwich, Vermont

In June, I stayed with Don and some of my siblings (& spouses) at a lovely inn, in Vermont. We spent a rainy evening, sitting on the porch drinking wine. Now and then we amused ourselves, watching locals come and go at Dan & Whit's general store, next door.

At one point, we heard the sounds of a ragtime piano and I turned to see this fine Piano Man enjoying a colorful upright, under an awning. I grabbed my camera and dashed over to visit. We chatted and I asked if I could dance along. He laughed, "This piano's not really in tune!" I laughed, "I have no idea how to dance to ragtime!" My twist-moves definitely didn't fit the sound.

At one point, a truck pulled up and out popped some neon-shirted guys. They paused to take in the scene, then joined the fun by dancing their way into the store. Piano Man finished and I thanked him for entertaining us all. He said he didn't have shopping to do. He had just stopped to play a bit, on the way to picking up his wife from work.

Back on the Porch

I was back on the porch by the time the neon guys came out to a dead battery. They ended up entertaining themselves (with less talent) on the piano, while they waited for help. By the time their truck was running, they were in good spirits, waving good-bye. What a fun adventure... with only a tiny bit of dance!

Number 18
Dancing in the Street

Burlington, Vermont

On the last night of a family road trip, we took in the fun vibe of Church Street in Burlington. As we walked towards the end of the brick street, I grew giddy at the sight of a small dancing platform.

We paused to watch and I was mesmerized by the smooth twirling and light footwork. It wasn't exactly a performance, but these people knew what they were doing.

The song ended, so I approached the dancer with white hair, to ask what this was about. He handed me a card and I could see this was a club... one I just might have joined if I lived in Burlington!

Swingin' in the Streets

Next thing I knew I was moving to some Big Band sounds, with the dancing guy, while my sister snapped photos and my hubby breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't begged him to dance. This guy actually made me sort of look like I knew what I was doing. I just wish I'd been wearing a swirling skirt and high heels. Woohoo! Swing Dancing on Church Street!

Number 19
Western Line Dance at Billy Bob's

Fort Worth, Texas

I've lived in Texas almost 20 years now and I can honestly say I've never tried line dancing. So, on a recent visit to Fort Worth's historic Stockyards District, Don and I headed on over to Billy Bob's

Billy Bob's was originally and open air barn, built in 1910. Then, it became a department store in the 1950's. For some time now, it's claimed to be the largest honky tonk in the world. What better place to learn some dance moves, than on a wood floor, beneath a suspended, glittering saddle.

Clueless

It is evident from the top photos, that I had no idea how to use my cowboy boots on that floor. Not one line dancer at Billy Bob's had a finger pointing in the air. No one was grinning either. I had it all wrong.

Celebs from Norway

We were in luck! They offered free line dance lessons on Thursday night and Don was game. But when we got to the floor and saw a couple camera men, I got a little nervous. Luckily, the TV crew from Norway was done pretty quickly, filming a well-known Norwegian chef and comedian, on the dance floor. Then the floor was open to the rest of us.

Soon, Don and I were on the floor, feeling pretty good about our progress. The instructor had us moving forward and back, side to side... facing different directions. She kept it simple. Don and I grinned at each other a couple times and then sobered ourselves, when we noticed everyone around us seemed to show no expression. I think we got the dance steps down, but we have a long way to go with that, thumbs in pockets, awww shucks, I'm just chillin' demeanor!

Number 20
Irish Waltz in Mark Twain's Town

Hannibal, Missouri

Who would have guessed that I would end up having a dance adventure in the old Mississippi town of Hannibal.

It was a Wednesday night, when Don and I stopped in the Mark Twain Brewing Company to sample some local beer.

We sat at the bar and enjoyed the sounds of an Irish band playing nearby. When there was a break in playing, I went over to ask the percussionist about his Irish drum. That led to talk of Irish jigs and I said I'd do some jigging in my flip flops, if only I knew how.

"How about a waltz?" Someone suggested. Next thing you know, an Irish Waltz was playing and our gracious percussionist was willing to show me how.

In just a few minutes, my new teacher was making me feel more graceful than clumsy. That had to do with a few tips along the way. "Keep a firmer hold, so I can guide..." The drinking and dining crowd hardly gave notice of the shoeless dancers on the floor. Don and a few others clapped when we were done. My teacher stopped by the bar to greet Don and encourage us both to start getting out there and dancing more. We'll see!