swing

I wasn't going to go but lately I've been thinking it's better to say "YES" when I'm being indecisive. I gave Y- a call & sent a message to see if she'd be my dance partner. She actually was there. D- taught M- and her husband first. The husband didn't have much of a groove & M- was falling all over the place. But for it being their first time they were pretty good. I imagined they were going to get a groove on later.

Swing is so sexual I mean. You are standing there holding a girl's hands & staring into her eyes. How much more sexually charged can it get? I want to know.

Anyway, it was my first time, too. Here, in Japan, the son of a semi-professional dancer, getting dance lessons for the first time at 38. And when it was done I was thinking, where have I been all my life? Better late than never.

And to be in, of all places, Misfits. It's literally a hole in the wall. But since last year they cleaned the place up & it looks a bit more respectable. But there's always good energy there. And I have some interesting memories of the people. Let's call them Misfitians. I've gotten drunk here about 50 odd times. I used to hang out here with S- & his crazy antics, dragging his girlfriend up to the roof for a screw, and I've seen bands play in the place, I mean, there's just enough room for the band, and a few customers. I've amassed massive monthly tabs that I argued with the bartenders over, and I've seen people recite their poems & short stories to a depressed crowd. At least I was depressed.

Y- looked beautiful. I didn't know she could dance so well. She said that she used to tap dance for four years. D- was a great teacher. He forgot to zip up his fly & realized later, after dancing with the students for an hour, that it was down. I didn't drink. Just had two cokes. I have decided that I won't drink when I dance. That would be dangerous.

But I did it. After a few shuffles of the feet here & there, a spin of a girl & then another (repeat, repeat, repeat), I feel like a new part in me is shining. I want to try this again.

Later when I was at home in the bath reading A New Earth, I had a moment of realization. I was aware that I was aware. And if you know what I'm talking about, well, you know. They say a finger pointing to the moon is not the moon. Everything in my life that I've been doing up to this point is not me, but it's pointing there. I'm glad I danced, because somehow last night, I spent a lot of time "pointing" at myself, and I was aware of it later.