July 19, 2006

Hotclue Does Dancing Lessons

Ohhh, I’m (Tap, tap, tap.) puttin’ on my top hat,
Tyin’ up my white tie,
Brushin’ off my tails. (Tap. Tap. Tap.)

I’m dudin’ up my shirt front,
Puttin’ in the shirt studs,
Polishin’ my nails. (Tap, tap.)

I’m steppin’ out, my dear,
To breathe an atmosphere
That simply reeks with class; (That’s ME!)
And I trust you’ll excuse my dust
When I step on the gas, (Which I do!)

For I’ll be there,
Puttin’ down my top hat,
Mussin’ up my white tie, (AND my hair!)
Dancin’ in my tails. (Tap! Tap!)

Okay, look, I know there’s a lot of terrible things going on in the world right now, but I just thought I’d bring a few minutes of fun into your life, then you can run right back to CNN, which I also will. But it doesn’t hurt to laugh just a little, right? When you hear what all happened to me during my dancing and singing lessons, you’ll laugh, I know you will.

Anyhow, I thought you’d like to see what I learned from the choreographer in New York last weekend. I know, I know, it’s all very basic, but man, you should SEE me in that cute little outfit with the top hat and tails, which, since it’s me, is only the top part with these little teeny black shorts and THEN, because I’m TRYING to be circumspect, black fishnet stockings. (The Count LOVES me in fishnet stockings, isn’t that CUTE?)

So here we go: Start by tapping your toe to the beat. Do this faster and faster. Eight, ten times should do it before the music starts. It tells the musicians when to start playing. Well of COURSE “musicians” is plural, the Count hired an entire ORCHESTRA for my lesson, isn’t that the SWEETEST thing?

Next, brush the ball of one foot forward and then back to shuffle. (Oh, first you have to learn what a shuffle is. Kinda hard to follow instructions to the beat of an orchestra when you don’t know what they ARE, right?) Somehow, I shuffled. Not well, but I shuffled. I think that’s called Wingin’ It.

Okay, now, step back on the ball of your right foot and step on your left to do the ball change. Now this one got kinda hard because I had an awful time trying to decide which was right and which was left, not to mention that I wondered about stepping with my right foot onto my left foot. I mean, that sounds awfully dangerous, doesn’t it?

All this is kinda like trying to play Blackjack in a big casino, they play so fast it’s hard to know what to do next and I always have trouble doing that knuckle rap thing when I’m playing Blackjack. I can’t TELL you how many times I’ve done that and hit when I was JUST trying to say “Don’t give me any cards, NONONO, NO MORE CARDS!” And then, just because THEY’re in a hurry, I lose.

It’s no wonder I always lose at Blackjack. You’d think they’d slow it down a LITTLE for a blonde, wouldn’t you?

THEN, brush forward with the ball of your foot and step on the ball for the flap. NOW I’m getting sorely frustrated. What the hell does THAT mean? Step on what ball? What flap? Here I am, looking around the dance studio for a damn ball with a FLAP and the bloody orchestra is playing along, completely IGNORING my plight…

OKAY, they slow down a little, FINALLY. Then (catch THIS!) I’m supposed to do a do a cramproll by jumping up and landing with my feet. What else would I land with? (Don’t ask.) Okay, the jumping part I got all figured out, it’s the landing part that stumps me because here’s what you’re supposed to do next: Land on the ball of your right foot, then the ball of your left foot, then your right heel and then your left heel.

Are they frickin’ KIDDING? There I am, that cursed band’s playing, flat out IGNORING me this time, they wouldn’t stop playing that bloody Fred Astaire music if you put them in front of a Haitian FIRING squad and pounded bamboo SPLINTERS in their nails! Yeah, they’re really grooving now, the hell with me. Count Babbalallapaloozo is doubled over, I can see him although he’s trying very hard not to in front of me, the sweet thing. He can’t seem to help himself, though, poor guy, it must be something he had for lunch. To add to all this, my choreographer, the sadistic twit, has fallen into a foaming faint, making it even HARDER for me to finish my damn camproll if I could even FIND one. WHAT is a CAMPROLL? Something you frickin’ COOK? With or without mustard? I’m lost. LOST, I tell you!

To make matters worse, next I’m supposed to step with my right foot and touch my left toe behind it for the step toe.

THAT was the final straw! Not only could I not find my right foot OR my left toe, by that time the Count was shaking so hard I was afraid he’d fall to the floor by the choreographer. Naturally, I had to rush to his aid.

THAT put an end to my first dancing lessons, and I didn’t even get to sing one song because somehow the sheet music I was going to use mysteriously disappeared. Sniff sniff. If I didn’t know better I’d think the entire orchestra AND the choreographer AND Count Babbalallapaloozo were laughing at me. But I know the Count wouldn’t laugh at me. He’s too thoughtful for that.

Love y’all, thanks so much for stopping by and listening to my hour of infamy. Come back again soon, ya hear me?

Hotclue Herself, waiting for the Count to come rub scented warm oil on her blistered toes.

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Comments

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  1. Dear Hotclue
    Funny! Next time, have a couple of Raspberry Cosmos. It’ll loosen you up and you won’t care what foot you’re stepping with. I drank champagne once before playing tennis. Had a great time!! Don’t think my partner was too pleased.

    Reply

  2. Hi Hotclue,

    You wrote a good blog, very funny. Do you really know what the steps really are? Or are you pretending?

    Have you ever considered piano lessons?

    Love,
    Cal the Real Dancing Queen

    Reply

  3. Hey, Dorothy, I’ll have to try that for sure, if there ever is a next time.

    And Cal, piano lessons! What a WONDERFUL idea!!! I’ll ask the Count about that and let you know. Maybe he’ll buy me a Baby Grand, ya think?

    Love y’all, come back again,
    Hotclue

    Reply

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