All the Way Around

Lisa’s and my original plan was to drive to San Diego, drive back east to Las Vegas, then west again to Los Angeles, one right after the other. However, the first of these treks through the desert completely exhausted us, and we weren’t looking forward to another hot six-hour stretch of highway the next day.

Instead, we opted to go to a dance in Pasadena, just a two-hour drive from San Diego. The San Diego dancers excitedly showed us fliers they had made for this contra and eventually convinced us it was a dance not to be missed. To top it all off, they invited Lisa and I to join them at a Thai restaurant beforehand.

The route the dancers laid out for us was straight forward, and the LA traffic was much lighter than we expected, allowing us to arrive at the restaurant on time. Inside, Lisa and I told our companions some of the places we’d seen, and they gave us advice about the dance coming up. “The band is the best in the area,” one person said. “And you just have to hear the caller,” said another. “Be careful,” chimed in a third, “the dancers in Pasadena like to book ahead.”

We followed a light blue car to the unitarian church in which the dance was held. Lisa and I stepped inside and were shocked to find that the hall looked almost exactly like the dance space in Greenfield, Massachusetts. It had the high stage, the some colored floor, it was the same size, with the same ceiling. The major difference was that this hall had side doors leading out into a gorgeous patio that only could have been located in Southern California. Flower bushes blossomed just next to the floor, and drinks and snacks were set up on the patio tables.

The dancers who came with us from San Diego weren’t the only people I recognized. One woman was originally from the Boston area; another had been to Greenfield. The crowd was big, well over a hundred people, and there were more young dancers than we had seen on the previous night.

Because the dance fell on a fifth Saturday, Pasadena held a special “zesty” dance. This meant that the dance was longer, starting at 7 and going until 11, but the cost was $10.

The band was The Syncopaths, fresh from a tour of the Southeast. I knew they were good when they started playing, but by the end of the night, I was in awe of their keyboardist. She was directly responsible for adding a good amount of zest to the night through her solos and jazzy accompaniment.

Another aspect of the zesty dance was that it was an experienced contra, which was immediately apparent as the first dance had no walk through. The caller, Susan Michaels, taught difficult dances with interesting moves, and she had an amazing sense of humor. One dance featured a figure in which dancers held a hand with their neighbors while gypsying their partners. “Isn’t that just the essence of contra dance?” she said. “I want you, but I’m holding on to him!”

One of my partners was fairly new to contra–she had only been to three or four dances. “How did you hear about contra dancing,” I asked. She told me that one of her coworkers, also there that night, had brought her recently, and she had taken to it right away. She smiled and laughed with each of our partner swings, and I watched as she danced with our neighbors. Her excitement for dancing brought an energy to the people around her, even though she hadn’t mastered all of the steps.

My next partner was excited that our dance contained a gypsy. “The gypsy is my favorite move,” she told me. I made eye contact with her as much as possible, even holding it during the half hey before the gypsy. It was a great dance, and it even had my long awaited first California twirl in California.

Lisa ran up to me after the dance was over and excitedly reported, “I just danced with the little old lady from Pasadena!” She sang the Beach Boys hit as she pointed her out to me, but I was skeptical about the little part.

“She’s taller than both of us,” I said.

A later dance had a move I’ve rarely seen elsewhere: a men’s gypsy. Susan explained, “It’s called a ‘Whoa Nelly’ for obvious reasons.”

“How is that obvious?” Lisa asked her partner.

“Gypsies are generally thought of as erotic,” was his response. When Lisa told me this, I had to concede that “whoa nelly” did pretty well describe the intensity of two gents eye to eye inches from each others faces.

Susan Michaels, on the other hand, had no trouble with eroticism. Among the raucous jokes she told between calls was a remark she made to me during the break. I told her about our contra trip and the blog as well. “Write that the caller was really HOT!” she replied, “and that she had great tits!” She made me promise.

As the dance wore on, Lisa and I started to feel tired, but the last two dances snapped us back into complete awareness. The Syncopaths waited until almost the end of the night to let loose with their best stuff, and the dances Susan called were worthy of the music. The penultimate dance had four swings during each progression: neighbor swing, active swing, inactive swing, and a same gender swing.

A member of the Syncopaths sang during the final waltz. It had been a long time since Lisa and I had heard a singing waltz, and it seemed the perfect end to a dance held in a Greenfield Hall lookalike.

-Calabassas, CA

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 1st, 2007 at 11:29 am and is filed under 15 California. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.