Dancing with the Stars of Boston- Part 3 of 3

Wednesday Weblog for April 21, 2021 #41

If you are reading this on a social media platform, feel free to subscribe and you'll automatically receive either a fascinating story or a boring one every week. I have no idea what happens when I press SEND.

Subscribe and Make Me Feel Good

Joe's Positive Post of the Week

Quote of the Week

"Socrates learned to dance when he was seventy because he felt that an essential part of himself had been neglected." —Source Unknown

Leading Off: Fear & Doubt

As long ago as this event was, it is easy for me, when reading or editing the story, to relive the fear and the doubt I had back then.

To this day, the minute before the music started was a moment that took all the courage I had and then some. I did not pass out, but boy was my mind racing.

A phrase I remember from my fraternity Initiation Ceremony was in my mind as I left the stage that night. In that Ritual the leader says: "When you face up to the fears that confront you, many times they disappear." The founders of the fraternity were right on many things, including this one.

The card below was sent to me by my professional dance partner, probably more relieved than me that this adventure was over.

Part three that follows is about the day of the event and the end of this part of the journey.

Dancing with the Stars of Boston, Part 3 of 3

Log Entry-June 4: The Big Day

It is four in the morning. I'm up and ready to go. Today is the day of the big Dancing with the Stars of Boston competition, the final step of the journey. Strange things happen when you change your goals.

As long as my goal was to 'surprise' people with my dancing performance, my attitude and effort reflected that: I tried very, very, very hard to learn, and was normally diligent in my preparations. Extra work and maximum effort came easy to me.

As soon as my goal shifted to the 'take your breath away' objective, my whole world changed.

Just like my Dad, I realized I can be 'Mack the Knife.'
Just like my Mom, I realized I have a dancing gene or two.
Just like my sister Joanne, I realized that I can try something totally new and make it happen.
Just like my son Joe, I realized I don't give up.
Just like my wife, I realized I can smile and light up a room (Note: my smile can only partially light up a very small room or a large closet, Her smile can light up a ballroom.)

At the same time, I realized how talented my professional partner, Carol, was and how patient she had been with me, and how much I depended on her. I realized that my routine, was really 'our' routine-based on our collective abilities: not just hers and not just mine. I realized that the routine is really good or 'cute' as the other dancers say: it is a good song with good choreography.

I recognized that as a professional, Carol has more at stake than I do, and so does the Arthur Murray Studio in Natick. I realized that it was the journey, not the event, that I have been writing about, because it is the journey that is most important and interesting.

It isn’t the four weeks and 23 forty-five-minute lessons, sprinkled with a few high fives, but many more "breathe," and "keep your eyes up," and "put some personality into it" comments that I will miss. When I look back, I realize that I will miss being with a very wise person and a special person who was able to handle this quest with me. (Think about it: would you want to teach ME to dance?)

And, for forty-five minutes at a time, her sole focus and sole objective was to help me do better. I hope that someday, I am the kind of leader who helps the people who work with me with the same focus and effort to serve that she had with me.

The pride on her face at my happiness when I finally hit all the steps in the final rehearsal was obvious (there may have been some relief in there, too).

Recently I re-read some of the quotes people sent to me when I polled the audience on whether I should volunteer for this event. The responses mostly fell into two categories: some felt it would be funny to see the finished version, but even those who didn't think it was a good idea, including several family members, never doubted whether I could do it, and I guess, deep down inside, I stopped doubting it too.

Each of the people giving a response had an opinion. My professional dance partner had no choice: and no opinion in the matter: I showed up with two left feet, she started working with me, and moved me to the point where OUR goal reached "to take your breath away." I'm not sure who is more amazed that I can do this routine: Carol or me.

As I said yesterday to the entire staff at the dance studio, who turned out for my final 'dress rehearsal,' when I walked out the studio for the last time: "the miracle has already happened. I'm a dancer."

It doesn’t matter to me what happens tonight, I know we'll do a good job. We've already impressed ourselves. Thank you Arthur Murray Natick. Thank you Carol. Your professionalism, your welcoming, your support, your patience, your encouragement took MY breath away.

I'm not sure who created that 'take your breath away' quote hanging on the men's room wall that I've latched onto. What I do know is that I'm not afraid anymore. It has been a short journey, and a totally unexpected one. I've come a long way from that scared little boy buying male ballroom dancing shoes with a preferred customer card in that little shop in Wellesley.

I could tell I had changed by the look in the eyes of those observers at the Studio yesterday for my last visit. I could tell that by Carol's eyes when we finished rehearsals. I could tell that by the look in my eyes in the mirror this morning.

Log Entry-June 5: After the Show:

As I get ready to head to sleep after an exceptionally intense day, I know it has been quite a journey, and quite a test.

What I learned on the journey still benefits me, and I feel great that I passed the test.

I know that when I stepped out on the stage and started twirling that fedora, it was a moment that took more than one person's breath away. That was when the thin line between bravery and stupidity was crossed, and I successfully made it back. You figure out which side I started on.

The photo of our bows after the routine captures one of the most relieved moments of my life: the dance is over, I didn't trip, I didn't split my pants, I made most of the steps. And of course people were laughing with me, not at me.

If you are a fan of the ABC television show, according to my sister Susan, many participants say stepping out of their box was the best thing they've ever done.

Maybe not the best thing for me, but right up there. I feel so good about this I may take up brain surgery next: it can't be any harder.

Or maybe I'll try out for the Celtics Dance Team? Now THAT, my friends, would take someone's breath away. Tah dah!

The End

Surprise Photo at the End: Saved

Postscript:

So I did not drop her. I didn't come close. Carol and I have lunch once a year to stay connected. I owe her. I pay.

During the training for this event, in her wisdom she recommended that I read a book called the Peaceful Warrior, by Dan Millman and in the preface he says:

"l call myself a Peaceful Warrior.. .

because the real battles we fight are on the inside."

If you would like to see the video of the show, including the judges comments, let me know. Not sure how I am going to share. Might be online, might be a link, might be a fundraiser, or might rent a theater, or maybe even a bar?

Thanks for reading and thanks for referring.

The honor roll now stands at 39 Members and my wife is still impressed: Arizona, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Puerto Rico, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Vermont, Virginia, Washington and Washington DC, plus Canada, Spain, Conch Republic, Australia and the United Kingdom