As with many things in my life, I view clothing and footwear as practical matters of necessity more than as vehicles for much personal expression. I wear the occasional funny t-shirt, and I’ll dress up for a dance now and then, but those are the exception. As items wear out, they are tossed with little thought; a dwindling wardrobe is replenished as necessary.

But this pair of shoes is different. They will be retained as backup for some time, I expect, but here and now at the end of their useful life, they deserve a modest eulogy. In their two years of service, they’ve seen a lot of floors in a lot of cities—it’s time for a few shout-outs.

Traveling has become a way of life for me now. I enjoy seeing different places and people; the variety and adventure is thrilling. But this is not something of my upbringing—indeed, perhaps it was the stability of having lived in the same house my entire childhood and youth that mentally prepared me for moving about later on. That later, though, has a very specific starting point, and the shoes have been with me since exactly that date. Read on…

I took a Richard Powers waltz workshop in Toronto a few months ago. I’m not very good at it and haven’t had enough chances to practice, but I can now hold down the basics of cross step and rotary. Since learning it, I’ve begun to notice much more distinctly songs that are in 3/4 or 6/8 rather than common time. All swing and related dances are strictly in four, so the lilting rhythm of waltz time can be a lovely change for the ears and feet.

The traditional music of waltz is, I think, largely Strauss and a number of other pre-20th century composers. And there’s merit in doing a dance to its traditional music. However, waltzing seems to work well to plenty of modern tunes too; here’s a selection of my favourite popular songs in 3/4 and 6/8 time. I’ve linked each to somewhere you can hear at least a sample of it—Amazon MP3, YouTube, or an artist’s page. Read on…

I’ve now been dancing swing for a little over two years. The people I’ve met through it have been overwhelmingly some of the nicest, most generous-spirited people anywhere… and also, a lot of the guys are pretty geeky.

Why?

The least charitable answer is “the geeks are there because there are women there,” but that’s not the whole story. Certainly lots of guys get into dancing because they followed (or were dragged by) a woman into it, but those who stay seem to do so for reasons apart from that. Indeed, the scenes I’ve participated in (Toronto, New York, Sydney) seem almost completely free of the creepy behaviour you would expect given that assertion. And that is despite being totally welcoming to guys and gals who might not be as accepted in other circles.

So what is it about the niceness of the swing community? What makes it so appealing to geeky guys? I think it’s the nature of the dance itself that attracts them, and once there, their presence and personality is reflected in the culture that develops around the dance. Read on…

When I changed my banner image for the fall, it was more an act of defiance than as some sort of genuine reflection of the reality outside. We’ve now had several dustings of snow, and there was the small issue of my bicycle brakes being encased in ice, fused to the wheel.

Anyhow, I ran into Matthias Wandel at Swing Club this afternoon—he’s a UW grad, and has a number of really neat project writeups on his site. It was just funny that I was half-heartedly studying some circuits in the studio, and when I asked him about an op-amp question, his response was more about what a useless circuit it was, than what exactly the filter behaviour would be.

In other news, I seem to be getting the hang of Tango a bit more. It’s a far simpler dance than Lindy, and certainly less flexible, but fun enough in its high-heeled, strutting sort of way. Like any of the more intimate dances, it’s more about the subtle communication between partners than big showy spins and tricks.

This fun little piece just came down the toronto_lindy mailing list:

As they chatted while waiting for the dance to begin, one elderly gentleman in colourful shorts and mismatched knee socks was dancing up a storm with a partner half his age. With his right arm wrapped around his partner’s back and his left hand gently holding her right hand, the man twirled her around the dance floor, unfurling the woman gracefully, then pulling her back into his embrace. It was a beautiful sight, but an anxiety-inducing one for me.

I had reluctantly made my way to Lithuanian House because I wanted to learn how to move like that elderly gentleman. I hadn’t always known I wanted to dance. In fact, I had lived my entire life unaware that I had such a desire…

Catch the whole article here. Alana is presently on sabbatical in Ottawa, but she was my teacher over the summer, and I fully second Karastamatis’ experience of her delightful personality and instruction.

The Palais Royale was a dance hall built in the early 20th century, once a major destination for Toronto dancers, but shuttered since the sixties. Well, it’s been bought, renovated, and apparently the new owners are back to throwing public dances there. The first of these was last weekend.

First things first: The floor there is spectacular. Even if not truly sprung, it’s extremely comfortable, and very, very smooth. Sooner or later I’ll buy proper suede shoes, but even given my sub-par equipment, the Palais’ balance between slip and grip is impeccable. I think I really cut loose on my Charleston for the first time; it’s awesome to be able to really twist and shuffle the feet, yet still have enough traction to be confident you won’t suddenly lose it and fall over. Read on…

Pronounce as ‘Cayley’

Mike Biggs persuaded me to go to a Ceili Dance. It’s a monthly affair put on by a local group with a charmingly hideous website.

But the dance was really marvelous. The last time I’d done anything even remotely similar was on a class trip in about grade 7.

Music

Live. I appreciate that. The musician in me loves to experience what other skilled musicians create. There were about eight present, playing drums, fiddles, a whistle, and a keyboard.

And Irish music is beautiful. It’s energetic and uplifting.

(Just in case you had them confused, Scottish is the one with the bagpipes, which happen to not particularly dislike, either.)

Learning

Between the person calling the dances and the one person in my party who knew what the story was, it wasn’t that difficult to pick them up. I think we did just about everything except the waltzes.

Proper waltzing is skill I’ll learn at some later point, but Clarke Gable couldn’t waltz, so I guess you just never know.

Friends

The group I went with was exact four gals and four guys, so that worked out quite well for the squares and lines.

I’d put something about it in my MSN name, and when I got home there was a capitalized message on my desktop from Christine S: “YOU COULD HAVE INVITED ME!” So at the next one in September, I’ll advertise. (I don’t feel comfortable promoting something I haven’t tried that costs $12 at the door…)

All Ages

It amazed me the smattering of old folks, middle agers, young professionals, and students. It seemed like the sort of thing that a lot of people get invited to and it sticks with a handful.

I’m pretty sure it stuck with me.

But my calves kind of ache now.