While I totally missed out on the opportunity to dance with Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly, I did get in a few steps with some reasonably good dancers in college.
Dancing is such an expressive form of sensual communication. There is nothing so romantic as a perfectly crafted Viennese Waltz nor is there anything quite as compelling as a well performed Cha Cha.
There is something harmonious in the visual chemistry of lines and movement that flow seamlessly from one set to the next.
Sadly, unless the "Grace Fairy" shows up sometime soon, I am now and forever will be the girl who has more than two left feet and less finesse than a bull moose in the showroom for Royal Doulton.
I wanted to be lithe and lively on my feet, but generally I spent time treading carefully on the toes of longsuffering gentlemen who recognized that dancing was not my forte but were nice enough to take me out on the floor for my conversational skills instead. ("Gee, that girl moves like an elephant on the march, but she can sure hold up her end of a conversation and then some!)
After being totally enmeshed in the weekly offerings of 'Dancing With the Stars", I must admit that secretly I'd LOVE to get some dancing lessons in. Preferably with my husband. But he rolls his eyes in that specific way that speaks volumes about how much he would prefer torture by waterboarding or a week in prison to taking a few lessons with good old Arthur Murray.
The appeal isn't just being able to do more than shuffle around the floor in a circle. Without exception, these celebrities have gushed about how much weight they have lost and the delightful muscle tone they have gained as they have learned to perform a passable Paso Doble or a fast moving Quickstep.
Uncultured Philistine that I am, I confess that I secretly hear the high pitched falsetto voices of the Bee Gees in my head singing "J -J-J- Jive Talkin'" everytime they announce that someone will be dancing the jive with their professional choreographer. And yes, I TOTALLY realize they aren't related, but that's just how my mind works.
Then when the couples face the dreaded night of elimination, and we see the strained smiles from people who are totally poised in their respective fields of endeavor away from the Capezio's and Spandex, I can feel a drop or two of perspiration gathering on my own forehead as we breathlessly await 'the cut'.
More cruel than anything, the masquerade of 'it's no big deal that we have been eliminated' just kills me. There are only a couple of people I haven't felt too bad to see depart. The rest of them deserved to stay and keep dancing.
But then, that is not what this competition is all about. It's about taking someone out of their comfort zone and teaching them to be more than the name and the face that we usually see. It's about making someone who is already at the top of their game and their fame become far better through the sweat equity of the dance.
I have truly enjoyed seeing the show this season and I wish we would find more good things to show on television. Things that can bring so much happiness to the voters must be doing something right.
Now, if you will excuse me, I must find my dancing shoes. There has to be at least one move from basic ballroom class that I can remember.
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