Why you should go see dance.

I hypothesize that one of the reasons why younger adults (ages 20-35) do not go out to see dance performance is because even if you can get alcohol you usually cannot bring it to your seats.  I also believe that while in the process of becoming, being, and purposefully trying to act like an adult and what that should be, we try to avoid magic.  We desperately avoid magic, or life and the other adults in it force its painful removal.  But dance is magic.  Not only do we need dance in our lives, we also need to allow magic to happen too.  We are unknowingly desperate for it, seeking it out with (for example) deceptive little trips that we call vacations, trying to escape something when in actuality we need to run away from the grip of false callousness and simply allow suppressed necessities like creativity, naivite, charm, and of course magic to flow and run out of us as they are wont to do.  It doesn't make you a child though, unfortunately, we have deemed them child-like, and nobody wants to go there.  But I think we should go there.  We really should go to the dance.

Serving My Country aka "How Jury Duty Works in Kings County"

8:38 am - I am now in the lobby of the supreme court building.  Adventureland.

8:46 am - I am now in the juror waiting room.

9:27 am - Could have arrived now.  We all worked through our cards together.  I hope everyone by now has figured out their date of birth, citizenship, and address.

9:29 am - Now they are weeding people out if they do not speak English, are not citizens, don't actually live in Brooklyn, are students during the day, are stay at home parents who have to pick kids up at 3, or have such serious medical conditions that they aren't actually here.  

10:18 am - Although many people here look normal, they mostly do not match "my peers."

10:19 am - A captivating hour and a half of reassuring ourselves of our own names, date of birth, and employment has passed, and now we wait with buzzing anticipation.  The rose ceremony awaits.

10:33 am - They read a bunch of names in alphabetical order.  Surprisingly, no one volunteered tribute.  I don't think there are a lot of siblings here.  THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN.

12:15 pm - Second round of names called.  I continue to wait.  I feel disillusioned, unappreciated, hopeless.  At least I know that, for now, I am not unwanted.  A faint light glimmers.

1:34 pm - I am eating cheesecake and pickles at Junior's.  I'm not pregnant.  I am Brooklyn.

3:26 pm - DISCHAAAARGED! Huge group of us not allowed to judge our peers for the next eight years.

A Mature Woman

ovaries ------------------> FIND A HUSBAND OR WE WILL MURDER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP

Freddy Mercury has the Most Beautiful Voice, and Edith Piaf is Good Too

We've all at some point been that neophyte listener who, upon discovering an artist previously unheard by our delicate ears, declares rapturously that this "new" artist is mind-blowing in some way and the ultimate in some other aspect.  We feel stupidly special at having discovered the sound and to be just genius enough to recognize it as the penultimate artistic rendition that it is.  I recall announcing to at least one person, who immediately lost faith in me as a person of aesthetic, that Jethro Tull had one of the most beautiful voices in all of rockdom.  That's right, not only did I not specify the singer Anderson, I also made this earth-shattering declaration after having heard three of their songs.  It had changed me and thus I must change the world by recognizing it. How dear was I?  Of course, depending on the artist, someone must have already made such statements oh, say 50 years prior and will say it again in another 20 years if not tomorrow. 

As annoying as it is to hear some whiney lisping voice breaking through the pus of full-mouth acne to extoll the acoustic virtues of some artist long-dead, we should cut the youth, and ourselves, some slack.  I grew up with classic rock blaring in the garage while I helped my dad make stuff, and oldies warbling away while my grandma made us microwaveable bacon.  I had a leg up on the ol' old music library.  I still meet people my age who have never heard of Judy Garland or Singin' in the Rain, let alone the Cars.  There is something very wrong with that, and we really ought to celebrate Gene Kelley on Presidents' Day, but we often learn about older and older things as we get older too.  I was unfamiliar with the Blues and did not know about names like Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, and Leadbelly until I was an undergrad, for example.  I still haven't heard every song in the massive Beatles catalogue even though I own several albums because, if my dad didn't have a couple records, and if the songs weren't favorites of ARROW 102.5FM, then I wasn't exposed. 

We find out about older artists as we age, and the next generation continues to discover music we, then what our parents, then what our grandparents knew, which means that the older you are, the older the guy is who thinks you're an ass. 

Only Steal Wallets and Glances

I have concluded that the least romantic general-access location(s) in the city are subway stations.  Extensive research (wink wink, nudge nudge, ahem, cough, NOT) suggests this could be due to the soft lighting, intimate space, warming fragrance, gentle breeze, and much sought after privacy of these subterrainian structures, where you can literally be whisked off of your feet in but a moment.

I Got Blogged!

In my boredom and/or insomnia, I will at times Google myself. It is not vanity, it is curiosity. I tend to see the same things as always though the number of various types of matches varies according to what I'm doing. There are still matches that were created back in 1998 or so, and things from the few days prior. I have finally found something new and amazing - my choreography reviewed in a blog! The writer, located in Montana where I do a lot of guest teaching and choreography, says she has taken class from me, but I do not know her identity.

Finally the fame I have so longed for!!! An excerpt:

The Many Adventures of the Modern Hippie Momma

http://themtandersenfamily.blogspot.com/2011/05/aunt-aprils-ballet-recital.html

SUNDAY, MAY 22, 2011

The first dance April did as an a Capella piece called X13, choreographed by the wonderful Leigh Schanfein. I have taken classes from her, she is an amazing dancer! They did a interpretive dance that involved running and then yelling "Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" lol while dramatically slapping their hips, sides and shoulders. They were dressed in jazz pants and white collared shirts with a tie. It was a pretty comical dance. :) I loved it! I think it was a statement about business people, always monotonus and running, coming out of their shells and yelling. :) Great dance, good job Leigh!

Wisdom from my Mom

It is possible to be both a romantic and a realist.