Bullet to the Ankle
I started in September 2004 saying I would blog about my experiences as a beginning tap dancer until the June 2005 recital. Three things have gotten in the way of that plan.
First, because I have been writing about real people and Annette's business, from the start I told her that she could censor any entries or comments that could harm her business or hurt her students. She has been quite reasonable. But what I didn't foresee is that when the juicy entertaining stuff starts happening, such as petty spats between individuals or someone really making an ass of themselves (that is, besides me!), there is never a situation where it's OK to write about it here. Through hard experience, Annette and I have learned that when you put something in writing, you have to assume that sooner or later the one person you hope will never see it, will see it. We both firmly believe that. But it really sucks the fun out of writing when you have to avoid all dramatic conflict.
Second, in December, Annette decided there would be no Spring recital. While her adolescent students have always been jazzed about the recitals, her adult students didn't think it was worth much effort. Leading up to the Christmas recitals, half the dancers missed half the rehearsals, for reasons ranging from compelling to totally feeble. The owner of the dance studio, trying to recoup the expense of renting a large theater for the recital, added a mandate that anyone who wanted to be in the next recital had to purchase at least six tickets for the "privilege" of getting to perform. Annette knew that idea was a non-starter with the barely-motivated adults. So. no recital. I hung in there, thinking she'd change here mind. But it is now April and she hasn't altered her conclusion one molecule; it is now too late to rehearse a Spring recital. So now my big story has no finale.
Third: To an unprecedented extent, the tap class is petering out. Readers of my early entries will remember my introducing dancers, such as Bembebe, Valerie, Joan, the Giggling Girlies, and others. I expected that, as in years past, this class would more or less stick together through the months and we would get to track these people's lives. But they've all faded away – some for health reasons; some for business reasons; and some for reasons we'll never know. In January, the class was rejuvenated when four of my friends from work, including my boss, joined. Then I was really in a quandary: they all know about the blog, and the last thing I'm gonna do is make fun of my boss in public. Even two of them have lost interest over the weeks. Tonight's class had only myself and a 13-year-old girl in attendance. This kind of decline has never happened to Annette before, and we can't explain why it has happened. But it doesn't leave a heck of a lot to write about.
So, you won't see me writing here very much. But I am not officially giving the blog a bullet to the head. It's more like a bullet to the ankle. If the classes revive or something comes up worth writing about, I'll write. But the commitment to dependably, regularly add material here has ended.
Thanks to all my readers, and especially those who chose to comment, for fantastic encouragement and for sharing the joy of discovery with me. I hope you had enough fun reading that you'll join me for future experiments that might arise. (For example, lately I've been crewing on independent films shot around the Seattle area. There is plenty to write about there!) Meanwhile, if you start your own blog, be sure to email me so I can help balance the blogosphere by reading yours. I'll spell the address out, so spambots don't harvest it: lingo dot slinger at verizon dot net. Until later, mind your Face, and don't let the Shucking Fuffles get you down. ##