Monday, December 17, 2018

The Five Second Rule

She:  I remember when I moved to Austin, I looked for a dance studio to attend.  I tried the local salsa studio, and you were the first person to talk to me when I came in.

me:  Well, yeah. Have you ever heard of the Five Second Rule?

She:  Sure.  That rule states that if you drop food on the floor, you have five seconds to pick it up, or else it gets cooties on it.

me:   Correct.  That's one of them.  Another one states that when you see someone for the first time, and your head jerks around for a better look, you have five seconds to go talk to them.  No hesitation, no self-doubt, on what ifs.  Just go.  If you hesitate, if fear, uncertainty and doubt overwhelm you, you can be sure you're a pathetic loser.

She:  And?

me:   And so, when I first saw you enter the studio, I said to myself:

         "One one-thousand..."

Tuesday, September 25, 2018


The other night at the One2One, while dancing with Maria, I stepped back with my right foot to open the door for a CBL.  Just after I planted my foot, Marcelo, dancing behind me, stepped back with his left for an Open Break. His heel caught my foot high on the ankle.

( I know I was there first because my foot was on the bottom.) 

As I steeled myself for a foot injury, he did not transfer his weight onto his heel.  Instead, feeling my presence, he maintained his balance, stayed on his toes, and pushed off into a spin.  His dancer’s awareness and athleticism saved my foot.

Monday, July 9, 2018


Image result for the salsa gods humor photo

Viernes Sociales was hot like a mutherfucker. A heady mixture of estrogen and testosterone filled the air. At one point, Mariah got stepped on by a stiletto-clad heel. As I pressed ice on the swelling, three inch long gash on the top of her foot, I reassured her with the thought that she had just made a blood sacrifice to the salsa gods.

Thursday, June 14, 2018


Last night at the Pura Austin salsa social:

me: See those four chachos sitting over there?
She: Yeah.
me: That's a Murderers' Row of salseros. They don't know if you can dance. I'm showing them you can.
She: Thank you.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

The watchers

As I sat with my buddy last night at the One2One, we witnessed a woman dancing spasmodically, with great enthusiasm and effort, to the timba band.
me: She's dancing like nobody's watching.
He: Yeah.
me: The bad news is, we're watching.

Monday, April 16, 2018


me:   Hi! Where have you been? Haven't seen you in a while.
She:  I've been busy.
me:   Let me guess. It's either involves a car wreck or a boyfriend.
She:  Neither.  6 months ago I started an intensive boot camp to become a certified dog trainer.
        I just finished. Now I hate dogs.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

The cat

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A couple of months ago, as I sat in my usual front row seat at the One2One waiting for the timba band to start, a young lady in her early twenties walked past me diagonally on the way to the ladies room.  As she passed, I thought to myself:  “There goes a dancer.”  She walked like a cat.

Later, we danced.  From previous experience, I knew that U.T. dance majors go out on the town, hit random clubs, and dance whatever dance they find there.  She was one of those.  She could do anything I asked of her, flawlessly, the first time.  Amazing. 

As the song ended, I dropped my most difficult move on her, ending in a cuddle, which she followed perfectly, and then blew her out into a triple inside spin.  She returned to me, welcomed a hug with outstretched arms, and then walked into the night, without looking back.  She walked like a cat.