danceislove

March in Madrid

It’s March 12th and Madrid feels like Montreal.  The leather jacket Claire let me have last October is now threadbare around the cuffs, and I’m through wearing the long waterproof I bought last Christmas because its zipper broke followed by one of the snaps, so that a hole gapes over my crotch area as I slalom among the slow-walking Spaniards on the sidewalk…more

Teaching Lindy Hop in Madrid

“Wow, you’ve never let yourself squish your arms before, huh?”  I cry.  My student, let’s call her Amalia, has just triple-stepped in a wide semi-circle around our hand connection.  “It’s so much more fun if you squish.  Here.  Let’s do this one.”

I take both her hands and stand opposite her.  Obediently Amalia closes her eyes, the better to follow my weight shifts. ….more

What Am I Doing?

You are not who you say you are.  I’m going to tell you who you are.  You are a Jew, you are a daughter, you are a classical concert pianist, your purpose in life is to make your family proud.  There will be no rock music played on the piano, no reading Judy Blume, no vegetarianism, no emotions other than laughter.  You have different ideas?  We laugh at you.  Stop reading stupid novels.   more

Clapping on One and Three

I walk out of my building and a wall of party hits me, coming down the cobblestones.  In this particular instant, a lovely lady with long brown curly hair advances toward Calle de Toledo, on the arm of her benevolent boyfriend as she talks with her lookalike gal friend.  No sooner does the trio pass me by - I am headed in the opposite direction, Calle de Cava Baja, epicenter of the fiesta - than little rainy pebbles of sadness within me suddenly evaporate and my mood lifts like mist off a lake. The music pounds, synchronized speakers from neighboring bars dumping merengue….more

My Job, Etc.

August is gone.

There’s a small wine stain on my shoe, the left of my nondescript gray wedge slides.  I notice it when I happen to look down as I walk the short distance from Iglesia metro stop to the agency where I will teach this morning….more

My Neighborhood, Etc.

On Wednesday after practice and drinks, I walked with Caroline to Cibeles.  Cibeles is one of several enormous, ornate buildings in the center of Madrid, between Museo del Prado and the Metropolitan (I think that’s a fancy hotel)…more

The right question, at the right time

The first thing we did was get lost.

“There are a lot of bars this way,” I’d said, pointing down Calle San Francisco, where the festivals and fireworks and walls of people had been just a few days ago.

“Let’s go here,” Andrés had said amiably, pointing in the opposite direction….more

Overly Emotional

“There’s no reason to be ashamed of being emotional.  Some of my best friends are overly emotional people.  I just don’t want a girlfriend who-”

“I don’t feel ashamed.  I’m just a misfit.  I have some handicap.  When you say that it makes me feel bad, it makes me want to change, because -” more

BEST thing EVER

“Que es esto?”

“Es un libro, y es una mesa, y-”

“No!” I flirt.  “Que es el nombre de este libro?” It is covered in white paper…more

About A Blog

For my post today I’m going to reprint part of an email I’ve sent to my friend Zen.  He’s incredibly talented and you should check out his blog. His writing inspired me so much that I’ve decided to share my reactions with all of you…more

A Night Out Salsa Dancing

I already have a spot where I go the minute I enter the club: to the right, halfway around the huge U-shaped bar. “Mama vuela mama vuela!!”  the music blasts, over and over, ringing fast piano over rippling percussion. The soles of my Mary Janes are soft against the stone floor, which gives way to hardwood as I round the corner near the coat check.  Over my right shoulder a few people smoke while sitting on plushy cubes or standing nearby.  The thick of the action is in front of me, though, and I pilot through the shouting sweating dancing crowd.

Yes, people dance in the aisle next to the bar….more

Do Something Good

Yesterday I had a great conversation with someone I respect and admire.  He was very generous in listening to me.  At the time I had just taught one of my private English students.  Here is what I said:

“I had a really good class.  Because this guy’s English level is so high, we just talk about interesting things.  We started discussing political correctness, about the idea that certain ways of speaking should be controlled and even legislated…more