Sunday, September 29, 2013

Can You Feed the Dominatrix? It’s Hungry.

               Lady X always had me barking up a tree and mad with desire for her. Something about her told me we were going to do the dirty deed; I could never be sure when she was going to say that now is the time to do it, but I always felt it was imminent.
               The pain of wanting her was almost too much for me to bear. All I needed to do was think of her and I was on hundred mile highway to a milonga I knew she’d be attending. Each night, when I left alone and unsatisfied, I felt like I had been sexually waterboarded…and still I longed for her.
               During the five years I knew her, I came to believe she enjoyed driving men crazy with lust and took great satisfaction in letting them think they stood a chance, like I did. I thought it was ironic that this petite woman with black curly hair, so sweet and seemingly innocent, had a dominatrix inside her.
               There is a little monster inside women that men fear. This is the reason why religions compel women to cover up with burkhas and headscarves. It wreaks havoc on men and societies. It is a primal being and a force of nature, just as strong as gravity and electricity.           
               Lady X was not an evil woman intent on torturing me by manipulating my desire for her. I suspect that dancing tango had awakened a power inside her that she probably thought was dormant and impotent. I doubt she would have the strength to suppress it because for her it must not have been an unpleasant feeling, in fact, I'd bet it was probably quite the opposite, maybe even orgasmic.
               If she knew the torment she was putting me through, I’m certain she would have found some way to let me down easy. I have to believe she has a kind heart but maybe I want to believe this because she still has such a strong hold over my libido, even from a thousand miles away and buried beneath two years of memories in my brain.
               We don’t always acknowledge our inner demons; those that don’t become slaves to the primal beings that live inside them; those that do, live a life of regret for what might have been. This is life; there is no winning this battle.

                

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Size Doesn't Matter

               American society is one that likes to measure things: eight point buck, thirty-six yard touchdown pass, five pound trout, one hundred acre farm, six inch penis, size thirty-six boobs…D cup! Tango seeks to avoid all that which is yet another irresistible allure of this dance.
               Last night, at the Four Seasons milonga in Minneapolis, the DJ consistently played tandas of five and six songs in a set. The norm is three but that is not set in stone. The length of a tango engagement is always fleeting. The woman can end it at anytime. The man, if he gives in to his inner-child, can stop abruptly and walk off, or worse, lecture his follower.

               When two people come together in the tango embrace, measurement ceases to be a factor in the universe they enter. Length, height and width give way to cosmic distances of the soul that are of impossible to calculate. When you get there, don’t ask questions; let yourself go, you are free. Don’t worry about when you have to leave, you’ll go when it’s over.



Coming soon, another installment of my newest book, Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure.


Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Audibly Erogenous

               While I was dancing with a beautiful tanguera this past weekend, it occurred to me that the ear is an incredibly direct path to our pleasure centers. Think about it; where would your orgasm be without an audible assist? Where would the fun be in dancing tango without the music?
               As we are well aware, not all sounds are stimulating, nor is all tango music appealing to all dancers. Only certain songs do it for certain dancers.
               As with tango melodies, not every compliment works with every woman. Knowing what to say so that it arrives in her brain as pleasurable is a purely instinctual talent.
               If we adhere to the codigo de silencio, we give ourselves a chance to experience a myriad of other erotic sounds happening within the tango embrace: breathing, humming, involuntary guttural exclamations of delight, toe tapping, etc.
               When someone is relaxed, the sound of their breathing is much different from a person in any other physical state.  It is a compliment to your partner.
               It says, “I am comfortable being with you.”


For more insights into the mind of the Kayak Hombre, check out his new book The Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure, now available on Amazon and Kindle.



               

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure, a book by perri iezzoni Part One


This book is dedicated to Ljuba Lemke, The light of my life and my destination. 

May God Bless my daughters, keep them safe from harm and help them to be good people.

                    "Tango is a sad thought that can be danced"
Carlos Fuentes

               The unexamined life is not worth living.
Socrates

              





Preface
               The tango first appeared in the United States almost one hundred years ago and was very popular in the first half of the 20th Century. It disappeared after World War II and reappeared after the Falklands War in the 1980s. Today, it is thriving once again, in America and around the world.
               Tango dancers often find themselves addicted to the music and the dancing which often last until dawn.
               The mysterious world of tango has a language and a culture all its own. To the uninformed, it can often appear to be lewd and sexual but it is not. A strict set of rules keeps the dancers in line. These rules, or codes, ensure that the fine line between sexual and sensual is never crossed and that, above all, the respect of the woman is preserved.              
               I write to expose the mind of a man who dances tango and how that helped me overcome my problems with intimacy. It is my hope that, through my words, others may achieve understanding, healing, or, at the very least, entertainment.
               I don’t know why I had a fear of intimacy; maybe it had something to do with growing up in a family of eight kids, one grandmother and a herd of cousins. Riding in the family car, sitting at the dinner table and watching TV, were always activities in which I felt like a sardine.
               Through tango dancing, I discovered a homeopathic cure for my problem. Homeopathy is medicine that treats poison with a stronger poison, albeit a highly diluted one. I had a fear of intimacy and the cure was to put myself in situations of forced intimacy by dancing the tango. 
               It worked!









Here are some basic tango terms I use in this book:
milonga: a place where tango is danced.
milonga: a style of tango music.
milonga: a style of tango dancing.
tanguero: man who dances tango.
tanguera: woman who dances tango.
cabeceo: nonverbal method used to find dance partners using eye contact and body language.
milongueros: people who dance tango often.
cruzada: a tango move where the woman crosses her feet, a very common maneuver.
ochos: figure eight patterns.
codigos: the rules of tango.
tanda: a group of three to five songs and the normal length of a tango engagement.
cortina: non-tango music used to separate tandas. Usually less than sixty seconds in length.




Chapter One
The Stronger Poison

               After ten years of marriage, my discomfort with physical contact was at critical levels. Two years later, I was divorced. Three years after my divorce, I realized that I was in serious danger of becoming a hermit and that drastic measures needed to be taken in order to prevent that from becoming a reality.         
               To my surprise, and the astonishment of all my friends and family, I took up dancing, and not just any dance; I took up The Tango, the world’s most passionate and the most misunderstood social activity.
               The dance of tango is usually paired with danger but it is also associated with an individual suffering from a deep, personal pain. For some, the traumatic experience lasts such a long time that they cannot imagine living without the constant hardship. It is a strange phenomenon of the human condition.
               I’ve heard of people who choose to stay with a soul-searing soreness rather than discard it because they are more afraid of the unknown: a life of freedom from their monkey that is always on their back, digging into their flesh, their nerves and often into their very soul.
               Tango music is very nostalgic and it allows you to remember these aches, whether they are with you still or lost long ago in a vat of wine. This is an idiosyncrasy of the dance. It is necessary for dancers to connect to the music, as well as to each other. 
               To make this connection, a dancer must be honest with himself/herself and with the music. The music is often full of painful stories and to deny that you take comfort in this would be a lie…to yourself and to the music.
               It is this confrontation with the truth that sets you free yet keeps you coming back forever.


               The mystique generated by the reputation of tango is one of danger and it is well deserved. Be careful when you decide to learn how to tango…there may be no turning back.
               The hazards associated with this dance are rarely mentioned and are never clear, even to the victims. The wounded are left feeling like Humphrey Bogart’s character in the movie Casablanca, Rick Blaine, living in Morocco, broken hearted but not suicidal; wiser for the experience but devastated in so many ways.
               The perils you face when venturing down this road are not the usual sorts you expect to encounter: a mugger in a dark alley, swindlers or murderers. No, the dangers you face are those that you brought with you when you entered the embrace of your tango partner: unrequited love, loneliness and/or regrets.
               The essence of tango is in the connection between the two dancers. It is usually performed with strangers, with no words spoken, from the invitation, all during the songs and right through to the separation.
               The reason for this is because of ‘what might happen’. What might happen is you end up falling in love with someone you never should have met.
               That is why tango is so dangerous.
               Falling in love is not so bad. Falling in love with the wrong person can be devastating.  

               One day, I saw a hawk in the middle of the road, standing on top of its prey, an unfortunate pigeon. It was a Cooper’s Hawk and the pigeon was not yet dead.
               The main course on the hawk’s dinner menu that night was not too happy about the circumstances and it popped its head up to object. With nary a ruffle of its feathers, the hawk clamped a large claw over the pigeon's head. Its talons squeezed tightly and the hawk took the other bird’s life with the cold heart of a natural born killer.
               The instinct to kill for food is within us all. If the accipiter failed to end the life of its victim efficiently, it might get hurt. This kind of bird slaughters other animals daily; it probably has chicks to feed and failure is not an option.
               So it was for our ancestors, the primordial hunter, who had to provide for the members of his clan. If he was not an emotionless executioner on the hunt, others might starve.
               As people, we suppress certain instincts because society has laws to persuade us not to act on them. I hold the killer instinct as a prime example. We think of these impulses as the dark side of ourselves and are only reminded of them when we hear about people behaving poorly in the news.
               When two people of the opposite sex come together and move to the tango music, a perilous chemical reaction can occur. The reason social tango has so many rules, or codigos, is to protect its practitioners from these primal emotions that can be triggered as a result of the tango embrace.
               Some of the rules of tango are meant to protect one partner from the other. Some rules ensure the enjoyment of the group is maintained. The need for such guidelines can be found in abundance once a person stops thinking of himself as an individual and acquires the perception that he is half of a couple and one member of a crowd.
               There should be no conversation between two strangers except when the music stops playing. Here, the words, “thank you very much,” and, “my pleasure,” are exchanged and not much else; no relationship status inquiries, no phone number requests, etc.
               For several years, I danced with a young Polish woman whom I found incredibly attractive. I was forty-eight when I first met her and I guessed her age to be in the late twenties.
               ‘Attractive’ is not the right word. To me, she seemed fresh like a baguette just out of the oven, as ripe as a freshly picked strawberry in the beginning of June and as innocent as a baby fawn lying in the tall grass down by the river, on a hot day in early July.
               She was a novice tanguera when I met her at a well-attended practica in New York City. Each week, I was sure to find her looking to me with her beautiful doe-like eyes and a huge smile. When she stood to join me for our first dance, I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was all I could do to keep myself from gawking.
               Her ochos were very polished but her boleos were non-existent. Over the course of six months we worked on boleos and other flowery movements. She lacked confidence in herself and I encouraged her with my honest opinion that she moved elegantly and that I was absolutely enchanted with her efforts.
               I had to be very careful what I said to her because I believed that the wrong words might destroy her self-esteem and she would disappear forever. I was infatuated with her and her absence would be a tremendous blow to my machismo.
               Except for my words of support, I said very little to her and I only spoke when prompted.
               I also worried that if I said too much, my true feelings would have been revealed and she might reject me. That would have been an injury I don’t think my ego could have handled at the time. I might even have stopped dancing tango altogether.
               An old man’s attraction to a younger woman is one of those base instincts from the dark side of our ids. Our sex drive doesn’t die once our odometer turns over for the first time.
               Before the last ice age, an older man might have to impregnate the younger girls in the tribe if some calamity befell all the other males. He needed to do this for the survival of the community. If he didn’t, countless strains of DNA would be lost forever.
               The temptation to do something stupid was almost unbearable. I’m glad I didn’t succumb. She didn’t need a lover, especially a poor, overweight, older man like me. She needed the man I was for her: a skilled leader who would patiently work with her on new movements, with no strings attached.
               One day, she showed up with a boyfriend. I was so jealous. When I scanned the room and my eyes came upon her, she was always looking the other way.
               I’m certain she had guessed how I felt about her. My heart pined for her yet I was glad she had found happiness in another man and, hopefully, satisfaction with her dancing that I had helped refine.
               I can imagine a primitive tribe of Homo sapiens being overrun by a competing clan. At times like these, I’d bet that an emotion like jealousy, combined with a super-sized shot of adrenalin, would come in handy. It could help a man fight more ferociously for a girl he’d been hoping would carry his genes into the future.
               My young tanguera didn’t dance with me for over a year.
               One day she showed up at practica alone. Her relationship must have been floundering because she looked at me right away and smiled. When we danced it was like heaven! I was so glad I kept my mouth shut and didn’t do anything awkward that would have driven a wedge between us.
               We both needed each other but we needed to keep our relationship confined to our time together on the dance floor. If it was not for the codigo de silencio between partners, I would have ruined a wonderful relationship.
               We enjoyed many more encounters for at least another year before I lost my job and began traveling in search of a paycheck.
               In the course of my infatuation for that young woman, I experienced many temptations that I successfully suppressed. In our initial encounters, I desperately desired to stare at her breasts long enough to burn a mental picture of them into my brain. The internet called out for me to ‘friend’ her on Facebook. As her body moved around me, I was presented with countless opportunities let myself linger against her for an inappropriate length of time.
               I did none of these things.
               The reason I let these enticements pass is because I learned that a woman’s respect is more important than satisfying my sexual urges. Eventually, I would realize that this is also the number one rule of tango. The dance is all about the woman. If I am respectful of her, I am also paying homage to us as a couple and to my relationship to the crowd.
               Tango relies heavily on a connection between two participants bonded on an autonomic, often cosmic, level. In such a state, parts of us are exposed with which we have very little experience controlling. It is a brush with our primordial selves that brings us the greatest rush. We abide by the rules of this dance, not because we are mindless automatons whirling around in circles, but because we are dancing on the edge of a very high precipice and the rules are the guidelines that keep us from falling to a tragic demise.

               When I first began dancing tango, I noticed there was often a dark cloud hanging over the room. Over the years, I started to realize that many people come to tango wounded. The injuries are almost always emotional, soulful and invisible to the untrained observer.
               The source of the injury may be similar for men and women but how each sex wrestles with their agony is different.
               I believe that women have a greater capacity for loving than men do. This is both a blessing and a curse. Their power to love is so great it can guard the men they love; it has the ability to heal and it can shine like a cosmic beacon in the night.
               When that love is broken, or discarded, it can leave a woman devastated. It is not the kind of hurt that a man can ever know.
               It is my belief that her pain draws other women to her. This is how she ends up in Tango’s living room:  in the arms of her sisters.
               It is not the same for a man. We can be such dogs; coyotes, actually, content to roam the plains alone, howling internally so that none might be allowed to share in our pain.
               What draws men to the milonga is not heartache, it is emptiness. We arrive alone, seeking that which is missing.
               When a woman is in pain, it seems to me that she winces at everything that reminds her of the injury. As she recoils, her sisters feel her grimace empathetically.
               Now, picture a room full of men and women. It doesn’t take many women hurting to cast a cloud over the whole event.
               The presence of men aggravates this situation. Our attendance is both a good thing and a bad thing. The agitation we cause is the spark that ignites the flames of passion that make tango so addictive.
               Allow me to explain a few things about the fundamental nature of men.
               When a man is young, all he can do is break things. If you throw a roll of bubble wrap into a throng of boys of any age, every last plastic bubble will be broken in a matter of minutes. It is as if it were a carcass tossed into a pool of hungry piranhas. If there are rocks, they will throw them. If nothing is at hand, they will wrestle each other and, when that is played out, they will insult each other before finally resolving to grab their testicles and pick their noses.
               Our boyish nature never really leaves us.
               As boys become men, we learn that there is much joy to be had in the building of things. We feel joy because we see it in the faces of the women who surround us.
               Men are genetically programmed to respond to the emotions of women. When the ladies are happy with our accomplishments, this causes us to experience pleasure. Even when we are alone, we can picture a woman smiling at the final results of our efforts and receive gratification just from the thought itself.
               For reasons unknown to me, I rebel against the cloud. When I feel it, I am compelled to do or say something guy-like. I guess that’s why there are so many rules in tango: to protect the women from the brutal nature of men.
               After seven years of mingling at milongas, I’ve learned to hide my rough edges. I do this because I am building something. I am creating the persona of anonymity which is necessary for a good tango embrace with a total stranger.
               If I am smooth, I can be anybody she wants me to be. If I am in control of myself, she can dance with me unencumbered by her repulsion towards my abrasive side.
               Experienced tangueros hide their brutal side so well that I think women are actually fooled into thinking that it doesn’t exist. Believe me, it is always there.
               It seems to me that the cloud of the wounded is one of the reasons why tango is so successful all over the world. It is a volatile mist that pervades the room. The milonga is a place for the injured to seek refuge. The music and the dance are the salves that heal them.
                It is my opinion that women can be hard on themselves. Some women beat themselves up badly for having loved too deeply. Loving so strongly is not a thing to be regretted; it is something to be thankful for.  Some people never get that chance.  
               Tango allows a woman, for a brief moment in time, to love hard without the heartache. It gives both men and women the chance to show the love and the passion that is inside them.
               We can’t be afraid of who we are and what we bring into the room. All we can do, and all we really need to do, is dance.

My book is on sale at amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/Fear-Intimacy-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1492357790/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1379623458&sr=1-1&keywords=fear+of+intimacy+and+the+tango+cure



Sunday, September 15, 2013

The Big Secret

               I was talking with a friend this weekend and she wanted to know why some men didn’t dance with her. She is a very desirable tanguera and usually has no problems getting invites. I found this a difficult question to answer so I thought I'd try here.
               Scenario #1: This is the most likely circumstance. There is too much competition for you. He is not just here to meet women; he is here to relax as well. You don’t have to have a string of guys following you around the room, either, for him to think he doesn’t stand a chance. It could be one man who made you laugh out loud and your reluctant tanguero just happened to witness this event.
               There are many reasons why a man would not want to compete: he’s tired; he’s got self-esteem issues; etc. Whatever the problem may be, it is not yours so don’t worry about it, especially if you’re already getting lots of invitations.
               Scenario #2: He’s just not that into you. This is tango. We come to this dance from all different angles and a lot of life experience. At this point in our lives we know what we like and what we don’t like; you may not be on the menu. You’re a brunette and he likes blonds, etc.
               This may be hard for you to handle so tell yourself that he likes guys.
               Scenario #3: He’s an accomplished dancer but, because this is tango, he has not yet mastered all the skills he needs to dance with you at any time and he is just waiting for the right music.
               Scenario #4: He’s so into someone else that you aren’t even registering on his radar as a possible target. If you do, it’s just to make her jealous. Be careful.
               Scenario #5: He wants you so bad that he’s afraid he’ll rip your dress off and start humping you on the dance floor. You absolutely make him want to lose control and he is fighting an internal battle with himself.
               If you weren’t a hot commodity in the dance pool, I’d suggest for you to be very, very careful here but I suspect you are quite capable of handling the situation. On a primal level, this is where you want to be.
               Scenario #5/6/7/infinity: There are an endless number of reasons why a guy won’t dance with you. Accept that you don’t know and move on. Most of the time, it has very little to do with you.  Something is going on inside him and, chances are, if you are patient, you two will make wonderful music together eventually.
              

               

Monday, September 9, 2013

Denver Tango Milonga Mystery Tour

               I was in Denver this weekend to visit my daughters and was fortunate enough to catch a milonga at Cheesman Park Pavilion near the Denver Botanical Gardens. The event was incredible! My only complaint is the difficulty I had in finding out about it. If I hadn't been alerted to it by a friend, I never would have found it. 
               This post is dedicated to making the Denver tango scene a little easier to navigate.
               The pavilion is a fantastic space for dancing but its availability cannot be verified until the day of the event. Once availability is confirmed, the organizers of this event make it known on Facebook. You need to be a member of the Colorado Tango Events Facebook page in order to find out about this milonga.
               Here is the link to their site:
               When I look for a tango scene in a particular city, I’ll google the city’s name + Tango. Googling Denver Tango resulted in three obvious choices:
               None of these sites is a comprehensive list to Denver’s milongas but tangocolorado.org was, by far, the most complete. To assemble a full list, you will need two more websites:
               I have only been to Denver three times so I can't offer a review of all the events. I have been to Cheesman Park Pavilion twice and to the Savoy twice. Both venues are in very different settings but they are equally pleasing.
               Followers looking for the better opportunity should go to the pavilion but The Savoy is almost as good.
               To leaders, especially those new to Denver’s tango scene, I would say that The Savoy is the better bet. It’s dark and alcohol is available, so the tangueras are a little more ‘relaxed’. Just kidding;-)
               The atmosphere at The Savoy is more romantic.  Cheesman Park Pavilion is outdoors and there is a lot of conversation. It can be difficult to catch a women’s eye if she is engaged in a four-way exchange on Comme Il Faut shoes. It is a very casual and familial scene, kind of like NYC’s summer tango at the Shakespeare Statue in Central Park.
               I’ve found that the outdoor gatherings are tougher on leaders who are there for the first time. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe women are less willing to be seen dancing with a stranger when they are in a public setting. 
               The first time I came here, I couldn't get a cabeceo accepted to save my life. This is my second venture to Cheesman and I got lots of dances this time around.
               The crowd at The Savoy fluctuated with dancers coming and going throughout the night but never reached more than sixty dancers at any one time. Cheesman Park Pavilion is a big space and there were 80 to 100 milongueros there both times I attended; most people stayed the whole night once they arrived.
               Whenever I talk to people about tango in Denver, the name Mercury Café is always mentioned. I haven’t been there but I did include their calendar in my list of links. If you look through it, you will find a number of tango events.
               In most of the internet offerings, you’ll notice that Michele Delgado, a local tango instructor who has taught in Buenos Aires, is a major presence. She is an excellent teacher and offers a number of classes aimed at improving a woman’s skill and confidence on the dance floor.
               At Cheesman, I danced with quite a few tangueras who said they were students of hers. They were of varying levels of skill but all were incredibly delightful to dance with. This is either a testament to Michele’s tutorial skills or just a coincidence that all these women were gifted followers.
               Even though I had never met these women, I was able to dance tango with them because they simply waited for my lead (what a novel concept). Once I determined their ability, I tried my best to lead only those steps that they could easily follow. As long as we both played our parts, having a good time was easy. 
               It should be this way everywhere!
               I would say the degree of proficiency for all the dancers at the pavilion is quite high but I do  not think that novices felt the least bit inhibited from joining the crowd on the dance floor.
               Grisha Nisnevich was the DJ at the pavilion. His musical compositions were extremely complimentary to my ability to choreograph on the fly, as most tangueros do. I found that I could depend on him to assemble tandas with characteristically unique rhythms repeated throughout the songs.
               These rhythms were readily identifiable. They helped me and my partners easily build upon the movements we explored together during the first melody of the set. By the second song, I could attempt more daring maneuvers and my partner could embellish without restraint. All this made for an incredible conclusion to our encounters when we danced to the final song of the tanda.
               “What, over already?” was a remark I often heard spoken by couples at the end of a tanda.
               There is a lot of free tango music out there. If you bought 300 tango songs for a dollar, chances are that none of it will be stimulating for the dancers. A good DJ assembles his library with a surprising amount of time and effort. Grisha is obviously one of these DJs.

               This weekend was the fourth time I’d been to an event DJ’d by Grisha. I feel safe in saying that he primarily plays tango classics. The group dynamic during his performances is amazingly cheerful. I find his music selections enhance my creativity and make dancing easy. 
               If you are looking for tango event in Denver and found your choices to be as confusing as I did, check to see who is the DJ. If it is a Grisha event, you can be reasonably certain there will be a lot of good dancers there and that you will have a good time.       

Thursday, September 5, 2013

The Fargo Dance Report

                Well, I’ve been here over a month and I have to say that Fargo is a very interesting community. Geographically speaking, it is as bland as a prairie town can get; demographically, it is quite surprising.
               There is a sizable Somali population here, as well as a very noticeable Muslim community.  Many of the Muslims are from India, Bosnia and Kurdistan. This makes for an interesting visual dynamic wherever there are crowds in this town. Interspersed with the fair-skinned, platinum blond, Nordic and Germanic ancestors of the town’s original inhabitants, are these brightly-clothed, dark-skinned people speaking Arabic.
               It has been difficult for me to accept the fact that I am going to be working here for the next several months. I tried to put it out of my mind by making the long drive to Minneapolis for tango on weekends but that hasn’t helped.
               I finally bit the bullet, rented an apartment and spent the weekend enjoying non-tango activities. I went to Minnesota lake country: Park Rapids, Lake Itasca (source of the Mississippi River), Detroit Lakes and Tamarac Lakes Wilderness Area.
               I brought my fishing pole and fished all weekend.
               Allow me to make a comparison between catching a northern pike and dancing tango with an anonymous woman. The former is like tying a thin string to a large stick, throwing it out into the water and pulling it in. The latter is akin to a rocket ride through the upper atmosphere and free-falling back to planet Earth.
               There will be no more fishing until I am at place with real rivers and big trout.
               I’m taking steps not to go crazy when the cold weather hits. I surfed the internet to find the local dance clubs and participated in their classes. I was invited to attend an ethnic polka festival but I'll never be that desperate. 
               There is a ballroom dance club that meets on Wednesdays and a salsa group that gathers on Tuesdays.
               The salsa group met at the local high school. It was not a big class but it was gender balanced: 6 guys and 6 gals. We stretched and did salsa training for about 20 minutes. Salsa training means moving to the mambo rhythm forward, sideways and with turns. It was very remedial but it was good exercise and reminded me of tango practice.
               The instructor has some Spanish blood, a rarity in this Norwegian metropolis, and he definitely has that Latin posture that so well defines their leaders. This posture is extremely pronounced in Argentine tangueros and I’ve rarely seen it expressed by American and European instructors.
               Ballroom Wednesday was very nice and also gender-balanced with 20 dancers. It was a very multi-ethnic crowd and I suspect there is hope for a practica group coming out of this one.
               I believe the multi-ethnic component is a necessity for a tango community and is gender specific. There needs to be women from other countries in the group. There needs to be men but it doesn’t matter where they’re from.
               I can’t say why this is. Maybe the immigrants are more driven because they’ve made it here from halfway around the world. I wonder if this doesn’t make the local women more competitive. Whatever the reason, I think this highlights the fact I really don't know what compels women to take up the tango.
               Women are the motivation for men to become leaders of tango. Followers need to be inspired otherwise.
               Here is something else I noticed while dancing with the Fargonian women: simply moving to the music using tango steps is intoxicating for them. I think this is proof that tango is some sort of aphrodisiac or opiate drug.
               If I were to compare tango to other dances, I’d have to say that tango is a 100 proof shot of liquor and the other dances are the equivalent of light beer. Unlike alcohol, tango is physically therapeutic and emotionally volatile.
               One lady, when she found out I was a tango dancer, enthusiastically asked me to teach her. She is married with young children, probably in her early thirties or late twenties. As soon as we switched from the mambo rhythm to the individual movements of tango, she backed off emphatically.
               Another lady found the tango movement very pleasing after she got past the initial shock of dancing without patterns. I’m not sure what she was thinking but it seemed as if a little bumble bee had begun flying around inside her brain. After our dances, she was all warm and fuzzy….and happily confused.
               I’ve finished compiling my next book How I Cured My Fear of Intimacy. I am in the editing process and am enjoying it thoroughly. Fargo is a great place to write.
               The book is about my realization that I had a problem being close to people and how it was cured by dancing tango. The book basically wrote itself as I blogged about my experiences with this dance over the course of two years. 
               The tome is not just a bunch of blogposts in book form. I had to rewrite many of my 256 posts, deleting non-essential material and weaving what I had left into a coherent narrative. Each post originally took four to eight hours to compose one or two pages of material; a lot of hard work has gone into the writing. Add another hour for the selection of each relevant post and mining it for nuggets.
               As I reworked each piece, discarding all that did not fit into the storyline; I was surprised to find how muddled my thoughts seemed to me now. Maybe that is just the difference between blogposts and novels. I think my readers put up with my fogginess because there are tiny flecks of precious metals worth the painstaking process of sifting through the dirt to find them.
               When I extracted all the pieces of gold, I was delighted to find that they were incredibly easy to read.
               I should be finished by the end of this month. Until then, I think I’ve found enough to keep me busy here in Fargo and I’ll keep you informed on the progress of tango here, if there is any.