I’ve Never Seen a Male Heterosexual Caucasian Who Can Dance as Fabulously as that!
Posted: Monday, October 31, 2011
by Christofer French
Rain Dancer Associates, LLC
"Dancing in" for the Owner Who Had Been Shot in the Chest!
He was the Owner/Manager of a night club. It was called: “The Right Track” in Pasadena, California.
He had just been shot under the left collar bone and was encumbered by his bandages.
“I have never seen a Male Heterosexual Caucasian who can move as fabulously as you do.”
“Dancing and I go way back. I love dancing, and yes, I am a Male Heterosexual and I am Caucasian, although there are some of your clientele who swear I am really black.”
This was 1979, and my hair was “Irish Afro”. That was what I called it. My hair was naturally curly. Some whites during that time would put “perms” in their hair. I just got up in the morning pushed my hair around and “off to the races”.
“You have lots of friends out there on the dance floor? I am Spencer. I own this place. I know I look like I should be in the hospital; and that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
I followed his thoughts. He ordered us drinks, my date and I. “Thanks. Yeah, they tolerate me. I don’t think anybody, except three guys, are my friends, but they generously let me do my thing. I think they like the fact that I don’t try to dance with their women. And every once in awhile I do some wild moves and they point it out, and smile - half way applauding and enjoying. It’s more fun for me to come to your place than to go to some club in downtown LA or Hollywood.”
I took a long look at his bandages. “You want to tell me about that?”
I was closing up two weeks ago, and I stumbled into a guy who had stowed away after closing. I saw him. Yelled at him; and startled him. He shot me. Just above the heart. Then he fled.”
“Wow. So, how do you feel now?” I smiled innocently. “You don’t look like you are doing that well.”
My sweet girl friend touched my hand under the table, telling me I was being insensitive.
The Most Incredible Three Month Gig of My Life
“Funny you should say.” He leaned forward. “I would like to offer you a three month gig. Night Manager. Free drinks, and you don’t really have to do anything except dance and be friendly. My accountant will take care of balancing. My girl friend will manage the waitresses. The bouncers are responsible and effective. We don’t have any problems with roughness or fights.”
Disco is so hot you know. I mean….you know! For heaven’s sake. I want to get better. I am kind of scared. And I would love to have someone with your style there every night. I think you would be the key addition for this moment in time. They are used to seeing a white manager, and it will fit, and you don’t have to do much. And I am going to pay you well.”
I was never so cardio fit than I was after those 3 months. Dancing continuously 6 nights a week. I put moves on my moves. I learned some Salsa, got into some Latin stuff, and my appreciation and love for Disco became how my heart moved. It was pure fun like I never had. And I had all this cash in my pocket.
Not Fred Astaire or Anybody Special, Just Fabulously Versatile for your Average Dude
My resume starts on stage, being in crowd scenes, male dancing groups (West Side Story) and an Okinawan street kid (Teahouse of the August Moon). This was only mildly instructive of dancing skills, but it gave me the sense of freedom to move effortlessly in front of strangers.
My Father did so many musicals that I became saturated with the crowd movements and special dancing vignettes in Bye Bye Birdie, Finian’s Rainbow, Sound of Music, Oklahoma, Carousel, Music Man, Guys and Dolls and several others.
My mother said she could tell I would be stage friendly when they had me walk across the stage as a toddler wearing a coonskin hat. I would stop in the middle of the stage and turn to the audience as they cooed and laughed and applauded.
I took square dancing for three summers at camp in Texas.
I had to learn ball room dancing for several church socials and a couple theatre events. My Dad didn’t dance, so I had to take my Mother to these events.
Then I danced to Rock and Roll from 1964 to the present. I remember dancing to the Four Seasons at parties during junior high and high school.
When Disco came along, I was newly single. From 1977 to 1979 I went absolutely nuts setting my spirit free, coming up with new and strange moves. I would invent them on the floor.
I relate this metaphorically to all of the internal changes I was going through.
Brilliance Has Its Limits, Chris!
The first time I really ever thought about how jealous people could get of an effective male heterosexual dancer was when I was in College.
A stern conservative Minister who was 35 at the time called me in for a session of “correction”. This was a normal process during our homiletics classes. You were being prepared for the Ministry. You were to expect a “going over”. Your response was to be a sober “Yes Sir” at the end of the excoriation.
I twirled my dance partners in great whirling moves during the Student Body Dances. Most everyone played it close and tentative. I went at those Waltzes like you see in the movies. The issue here is that you are out there with all the administrators and all the hierarchy and their wives. So, this behavior was going to be a part of this climactic thrashing.
“Chris, you have a problem with vanity! Yes, we admire your grades, your athleticism; you date widely, an excellent example of morality and leadership. You are an excellent speaker. But Chris, brilliance has its limits: When you do that twirling all around the dance floor, you are just showing off. It’s just pure insufferable vanity!”
“Yes sir”.
“Show Me Some Moves, Dad!”
That is probably the best negative acknowledgement of my Fabulous Dancing Versatility. I realize that something like great dancing gets under the average guy’s skin. I don’t know why, but I have met that obstacle several times in my life.
So, now in my older age, no one looking at me would ever fear I was a Fabulously Versatile Dancer, but I tell you, all three of my daughters will grab me at weddings and parties, and get me to take off my coat. “Come on Dad, show me some moves! Let’s dance.”
Good thing all those beautiful women are my daughters, otherwise I could be accused of Pure Insufferable Vanity.
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Top-level comments on this article: (3 total)Oh well, so you CAN dance. Go ahead and brag. This one made me laugh out loud. Thanks!Thanks. It was fun going through those old memories. Thanks for the topic.
LOL. Brings back memories, some quite painful, of having to dance with sweaty boys in highschool PE class. I never quite understood why they made us learn square dancing.I think it was learning rhythm, allowing touching, but not chest to chest dancing song after song. Dancing in the round is how humans have done it since the beginning. Thanks for your notice.
Mark Twain said, "No sane person dances".
Must one be crazy to dance,
publicly ?
I thought long and hard about that statement, approached it from different angles of thought and pondered it.
I finally accept that dancing is publicly symbolic sex, with the exception of Lambada, which IS sex, most graphic in public.
Sometimes, watching people dance, at weddings and parties, in, you'll forgive the expression, "ballrooms", I can see the symbolic give and take sex act in dance.
Would one who is a Buddhist and contemplative, dance or would he resist the impulse as unabashed exhibitionism?
After all, what is,"sanity"?
Drinking alcohol during a "cocktail hour", before public dancing at such affairs may assist the temporary insanity inherent to very public gyrations called dance.
I can often resist the impulse to publicly gyrate, by recalling Twain's sentence.
You should choreograph a sermon and knock 'em dead!
Affection,
Paul
I find it incredibly easy to respond to you in this regard, since I am the subject and I have spoken about how it goes with me; and you are our resident expert on familiar spirits. I find the excitement to dance allied with an inner stimulation akin to a demon tickling my innards. Mostly dance, especially when you are wrestling an amateur partner from here to there, is a physical exercise of attempted unity.
Remember men don't dance, I have discovered, and thus an exorcism is my most ready metaphor. Since you write about what you do, I can say that there are states that I have achieved when doing my free style dancing that almost surpass sex. I said almost.
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