A Rose by Any Other Name. . . .

So I have succumbed. Buckled, Snapped like a dry twig. Attended my first dance lesson. So bring it on. Make fun of me. Start out with Mennonite jokes. Like, why don’t Mennonites kiss standing up? Because it might lead to dancing. Haha. One friend said he thought all Mennonites had two left feet. It is true. Dancing used to be frowned on in many Mennonite communities. Trust me. I am not getting into that debate here. Our instructor related to us how he had wanted to teach dance at a camp he was working at but had been told that dancing was a no-no. He changed the name to rhythmic exercise. That seemed to work. Hmmm. What’s that saying? A rose by any other name is still a rose. (I mean the flower okay, although this could apply to my wife as well)

As it is my wife and I have had this ongoing exchange of words for a number of years. I have, at times, suggested that she take up golf. My thinking being that that would be one way of spending time together during weekends in the summer. (all right, I am being just a little selfish with that one) Every time I would bring it up she would respond with her idea that we should take up dancing. That would usually end that discussion till golf was mentioned again. Well, in the last year my daughter has joined in the fray. Of course, taking her mother’s side. She keeps hinting that she will get married someday (are you listening L) and that I will need to dance with her. Then to top it all off one of our sons is getting married this summer and, yes, there will be a dance. So I do need to learn.

Our instructor mentioned one other thing last night that did encourage me to continue down this path of rhythmic exercise. He said that when a man wants something that their partners would normally frown at you just suggest an evening out dancing. He suggested it was amazing how almost anything was made possible. And I do need some new golf stuff. This might just work.

The interesting thing about dance is that it is up to the man to take the lead and the woman to follow. (I did suggest that this was quite un-feminist but the women in the room told me to shut up and listen) Later my wife told me how she had really enjoyed being under my total control. Why is it not like that in real life? Oops, did I say that out loud. I am leaving that for another day. Perhaps forever. At this point I need a new putter so I am going dancing. Make it a good one.