Wednesday Weblog for July 20, 2022 |
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The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore... intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that seem impossible... It is with an iron will that they embark on the most daring of all endeavors... to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the unknown. " Often attributed to Magellan |
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Leading Off: A Three Part Series, Really? |
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About a dozen years ago, an executive with a local health insurance company asked me if I would volunteer for a fundraiser for a Boston neighborhood civic association. The event was Dancing with the Stars of Boston. Much to my surprise, and the surprise of many in my business and social circle, I said “yes.”
During six weeks of training, I put my feelings, my experiences, and my attitudes into words, and I am going to re-share them here over the next three weeks, just as I lived them and shared them with my team at the time.
The stories are told in the present tense rather than the past tense, so you can get a better flavor of the sheer terror and stupidity involved in this effort.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t win the competition. A local TV reporter won, and Miss Massachusetts had superior skills, but I had no shame and still feel I was the big winner. Read on to find out why.
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There is also video of this event, that to this point I have guarded with my life, but donations to my Falmouth Road Race team, Cystic Fibrosis, will get you a front row seat. T
You can head over to the fundraising page with a link here and make a donation. Thanks in advance.
So, let’s get started and cue the music, even if Erin Andrews and Tom Bergeron are unavailable.
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Dancing with the Stars of Boston Trilogy: Part 1 |
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Log Entry: April 18-INTRODUCTION
More than 45 individuals voted in my informal poll and the vast majority wanted the show to go on, so I guess this is going to happen on June 4th.
Some of the advice I received before making a decision:
- "Please don't." Love, Mom
- "I vote yes: How bad could you be?" PauI, a friend
- "I'll be there, 15 lessons, wow, sounds fun." Joanne, sister
- "l would watch! And am sure that since you were a soccer player, you're coordinated enough to do a great job!" Sandy, a friend
- "Funny. Quickly tell them no!!"-Brian, brother
- "I couldn’t do it... but all the "stars" say, step out of your box.... it's the best thing they've ever done. "-Susan, sister
- "I am speechless!"-Sherry, a friend
- "Your willingness to make a fool of yourself to bring some great attention to your non-profit is admirable."-Paul, brother
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Log Entry: May 9 A NEW PAIR OF SHOES
I put two dimes in the parking meter and was thrilled that I had a spot directly in front of the store I had been trying to find in Wellesley. I think the fear hit me for the first time when I opened the door to the shop. Earlier, when I just 'thought' it would happen, I was actually quite calm.
When my professional ballroom dancing instructor, Carol, asked me why I had agreed to do “Dancing with the Stars of Boston”, I really didn't have a good answer, because I'm not really sure why I'm doing it.
Maybe it's because I am afraid to bungee jump? Maybe I haven't read a good book lately? Could be because two of my nieces, Shannon and Ryanne are dancers and they would think I was cool?
- The fear didn't hit me at my first lesson when I walked into the studio and saw the mirrored walls and the parquet floor.
- It didn't hit me when I met the professional instructor who would be tasked with managing this impossible dream.
- It didn't hit me as I learned the basic steps of the foxtrot, waltz, rumba and cha-cha (l already know I'm NOT a cha-cha kind of guy, and have you noticed how the pairing of the words 'Ed' and 'rumba' makes you laugh?).
- The fear didn't even hit me when I learned how to hold my hands and how to let Carol's arm rest on mine while I touched her shoulder. Advanced stuff.
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I was actually pretty relaxed through that whole first lesson, bending my knees, putting my foot down toe first—you know that basic stuff that we dancers do.
I think the fear hit me for the first time when I opened the door to that little shop. As it closed behind me, I could see a little girl in her new pair of shoes, with taps, showing mommy how she could make noise with her feet. I could see the displays with leotards, and leggings, and the other stuff that dancers, young and old, need to be dancers.
I didn't see too much merchandise a guy my age could use, so I kept my glance downward. I could see a dad reaching into his wallet as his teenage daughter with braces smiled that special smile that only daughters have for their fathers, and the clerk made a joke about today not 'costing $200.'
I thought of my brother, who must have been in shops like this, with a wallet like that, probably dozens of times with his two daughters who had been dancers since learning to walk.
Without my own daughters, it was a slice of life that had escaped me. Without any interest in dancing, it was a slice of life I never wondered about. Now, I was faced with the cold hard reality that I was in Capezio's Dance Theater Shop with a 10% discount card I had snagged at Arthur Murray's Dance Studio.
It all happened so fast I could scarcely believe that I was a preferred shopper at a store that specialized in dancer supplies!
That was when the fear hit me and it hit me pretty hard.
I knew, for certain, in that place and time, that I was completely out of my league, that I had no business being involved, that I was going to make a complete fool of myself, and that I really didn't want to spend a hundred bucks on "male ballroom dancing shoes."
Yep, if I was quick I could sneak out of that place and get back to the car...too late. "Can I help you sir?" the owner inquired while fitting an eight-year-old with some ballet shoes. "If my friends could see me now!" was all I was thinking.
So, in short order, there I was sitting on the bench next to a future ballerina wondering if there was a market for gently used "male ballroom dancing shoes." All I could think about was how I could unload the shoes I hadn't even bought yet when the event was over.
That was when the second wave of fear hit me. I trembled as I tried the shoes on, I was shaking as I paid, and in a trembling voice I indicated I didn't need a bag, I was good to go.
As I walked past the leotards and special socks that stood between me and the door, clutching my very first pair of male ballroom dancing shoes, I told myself I had nothing to fear but fear itself. But that thought changed to the thought that I actually had a lot more to fear than fear itself.
I was sneaking into a new world--like landing on a different planet. These dance people were serious! I had just been shopping in Capezio's—a real shocker! I was a pretender and everyone would soon see through my charade.
Could I actually be a dancer in 30 days? How long did it take us to get to the moon? I briefly contemplated faking an injury, just like you would in my situation. By the time I reached the car, I had decided that if, or since, I was going to do it, I would at least do it with enough energy and effort to.... surprise.
That became my goal, born out of fear: to surprise.
"Surprising" is a lot different from "Excelling", I agree, but maybe not. If I go through this and do-something-no-one-thought-I-could-do, in a way no-one-thought-I-could-do it, that's sort of like excelling isn't it? Nah, I didn't think so either.
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Log Entry: May 10-DANCING EVERYWHERE
The first lesson wearing my new dancing shoes went by quickly. On the day before my second lesson I was hoping NOT to surprise any construction workers in the vacant office space. I had been struggling a little bit with transitions from one kind of step to another and I knew I needed to miraculously get better before my 3:15 PM lesson if I was going to have any hope of surviving.
Unfortunately for me, I was coming off a late night in Boston, and I had a busy day ahead of me. There might not be any time to practice, so I knew I would have to improvise. I wasn't sure if I was going to practice my steps in the basement, the men's room, the halls of the office or the halls of Montezuma. Eventually, I came up with an idea.
So, there I was at 6:15 AM in a vacant open office space that was under renovation in the building where I worked. There was no carpet, no walls, and no construction workers at that hour.
I had the whole damn ballroom (I mean office space) to myself. Can you picture me with earphones playing 'Mack the Knife' and foxtrotting around the room holding my imaginary partner? Neither can I, but that's exactly what I was doing.
For 45 minutes I pounded that cement floor with my tasseled loafers until I could at least go around once without losing my steps, the beat, or my mind. It was the kind of act you might hope to see on YouTube.
On the positive side, I hadn't come close to falling on my butt! When you are grasping for straws, remaining upright counts as positive reinforcement. As always, the thought “if my friends could see me now" wasn't too far from the front of my mind. Today it was preceded by "I hope the carpet guys don't see me now” because I was sure at any moment that the construction crew would show up and have a good laugh at my expense. Maybe a preview of reactions to come?
I was flying around the room pretty good, by my low personal standards, and feeling very much like a light-footed dancer-you know doing the knee dips and stuff, and wiggling my hips when I really got into it, but then I noticed a sound. I turned around and that was when I realized..... (To be continued)
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Surprise Photo at the End: Four Steps |
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This photo was taken four steps in my routine at the actual event. It was taken just after I have put the fedora on, but before I try to toss it offstage (I was not successful). If it was video, you could see me trembling. This was also just about the time my mother spontaneously screamed in shock 'Oh my god, that's my son.' It didn't help. |
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Thanks for reading and thanks for referring.
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Ed Doherty
774-479-8831
www.ambroselanden.com
ed-doherty@outlook.com
Forgive any typos please.
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