The Tango Question

               What am I doing here in Wisconsin? Why am I here? Sometimes it seems like no coincidence that I ended up here. It is funny that I seem compelled to ask these questions.

               Once, at the Saturday morning Dance Manhattan practica in NYC, the hostess, Mariela Franganillo, told us that there is a question in tango music and that we must dance to it. I didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about but her statement stuck in my brain.

               In life, we are always asking questions. This seems to be the dominant function of our brain. 

               I often feel an inquisition from my dance partner. If I dance well, I am rewarded with a genuine smile at the end of the dance. Somehow, I must have provided the answer to her question.

               This is what I am looking for when I dance tango. I am not looking to dance with the best dancer or to be greatest leader in the room. I am looking for that person who is looking for me and together we complete the equation. The result is a little bit of satisfaction, a good feeling that is often expressed with a smile.

               If we don’t ask questions, we are not happy. When we are not happy, we don’t move. Inquiry inspires movement. There is no way we can find answers if we are sitting still. When we find an answer, happiness is the result. This is the secret of living, the reason for our existence.

               I am fascinated by how scientists receive answers to their theories. Their search is often maddening, compelling them to seek a greater understanding of fundamental processes in order to make a discovery.

               One day, if they are lucky, the answer is given to them. It is not something they could have come up with on their own; it is provided by the Universe, by God or whatever we want to call the force that generates the response. It comes to them while they are making a cake, driving to work or in their sleep. It is planted in their brain like a gift and it makes them extremely happy.

               This should be a common occurrence in everyday life. If it is not, then there are problems and these problems don’t necessarily have to be solved. They can sit there and fester, making life unbearable for those who choose not to move, who choose not to ponder their situation.

               Laughter is the best medicine. This is widely known but for some this is a recent revelation and they are broadcasting it in the news a lot lately.

               This concept is the crux of the book I’ve been reading, The Molecules of Emotion, by Candace B. Pert, a scientist who discovered the opiate receptor. She concluded that, after years of scientific analysis at the National Institutes of Health, the emotion known as happiness compels our cells to create the conditions by which our body heals itself.

               We dance for pleasure. The ballerina spreads joy through her performance. She is driven to excel in her movements because the Universe compels her. She does not ask why, only how.  She finds contentment when she comes closer to perfection.

               This is what I am looking for when I am at a milonga, the place where tango is danced. I am searching for that person for whom I can be the answer to their question. I will be delighted if I can generate a smile.

               In tango music there is a question. Two people in a crowd find each other and become the answer. Happiness is the result. Repeat as often as is necessary.

Note: I initially started blogging to promote my book, River Tango, and now, a second, Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure. Since that time, I have found writing an extremely therapeutic endeavor and just as rewarding as the discoveries I made that inspired me to write my books. 

              I encourage you to read them. 

             The first is not just an action adventure novel, it is a vehicle by which I hope to show the reader a man totally in tune with the river and how he discovers dancing is an equally rewarding relationship with nature.

             The second is about the epiphany I experienced through dancing tango. I was sick and this dance cured me. I didn't know I was ill until after I had found the remedy. Hopefully, others will be led to the same conclusion, inspired by my writing.

             

peace, love, tango

perri

For more of the Kayak Hombre, read my book Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure or River Tango. Available on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle.

              

               

The Tango House of Madison

               I finally made it to a bona fide milonga in Wisconsin. This past night was a blur of great food, delicious wine, interesting conversation and, most importantly, some excellent tango dancing to the classics spun by DJ Childs. 

               It all went so fast that I hardly had a chance to get the names of all the truly terrific milongueros that I met. The tandas ended way too soon and the night was over before I knew it.  

               I went to a place called The House of Tango. It was super cool. The house is not so big but there are plenty of rooms adjoining a nice-sized dance floor that easily accommodates 12-15 couples.

                A woman remarked to me as we were dancing that the narrowness of the space forced dancers to obey the line of dance.

               The crowd was young; most people were in their thirties and forties. Upon arrival, they all partook of the many different wines and the absolutely delicious entrées available in the small kitchen.

               Everyone was very friendly. I was introduced by the hosts to most of the crowd almost immediately. The hostess even recognized my name and associated it with my blog, which I found very flattering.

               If you get a chance to tango in Madison, this event is an absolute must! The venue is a challenging space for Americans, as it is small but not too small. The size of the dance floor and the lighting reminds me of a few private residences I danced at in Austin, TX.

               This place also reminded me of Sangha Space in Media, PA, just outside Philadelphia, in the days before they moved down the street to their current locale.

               It doesn’t get any better than this for a stranger in a strange land, dancing tango. These wonderful people took me in and made me feel more than welcome, they made me feel like family. Thank you all so much and I can’t wait to come back again next month!

Why Some Girls Have Beards

               I bought a pair of cross-country skis at the Thrift Store for $10. I told a friend at work and he asked my shoe size. He said he had a pair of shoes that might fit me. They were his brother’s. He said his sibling had ‘checked out’ prematurely. Those were his words. I won’t use the one we commonly use because I don’t like the word. I think it is inadequate.

               Life is hard. It’s not hard because it’s an uphill climb in both directions; it’s hard because, while we’re making the climb, we have this urge to do something that has no place in our plans to climb the hill. As crazy as that urge is, we must listen to it or let it drive us crazy.  

               One of my many sisters initiated divorce proceedings, moved out of her house and got a boyfriend. She never finalized the divorce, still sees her husband and is having a good time with her new beau. That may sound illogical but it was what she needed to do to continue on with her life.

               Once, when she was making dinner for her three children, homemade pasta with meatballs and excellent spaghetti sauce, she confided in me that she was worried about her ‘crazy Irish’ side. This was before she moved out and her life was still seemingly normal to all but unbearable for her. She worried that our family had a history of ‘early retirements’, although there were none that I could recall.

               Last night, I had a dream about a friend of mine who is a member of our tango community in Durango. She’s taking hormone treatments and is growing a beard. She wants to be more masculine. I tell you what, a beard will do the trick!

               A persistent theme in this dream was my need to tell her about a man’s fear of rejection and what a difficult emotion it was for us to deal with. When I couldn’t bring the dream around to a scenario where I could tell her this, I woke up and felt the need to write it down.

               I don’t think it is weird that she wants to be a man. At fifty-three, I am quite comfortable with what people have to do to satisfy their particular urges. My ‘urge’ came when I was eighteen. I quit college and joined the Air Force. Later, I became a whitewater river guide and began an incredible relationship with the river and nature that pervades my life until this very day.

               From an outsider’s perspective, I’ve had a lot of disappointing setbacks: divorce, layoff, loss of my 401K, etc. None of that bothers me because my kids are healthy and they are nearly finished with college. It also helps that I took up dancing and writing.

               Dancing the tango provides me with some sort of communal nourishment that apparently was lacking in my life. Writing helps me understand the people I meet while dancing, my weird dreams and other peculiar things in life.

               Growing old isn’t easy. We shouldn’t expect it to be. All the events leading up to the present - birth, puberty, parenting - are all indicators that the future will be more of the same but in a way you never expected. Don’t fight it and don’t try to make sense of what life is telling you to do, just do it as long as nobody gets physically hurt.

               You are not insignificant. The Universe is absolutely aware of your existence. Often times, we get so caught up in climbing the hill that we can’t imagine that taking a sled and sliding down the hill for once would make us feel good. It’s medicine for the soul prescribed by the omnipresent force that is constantly looking out for us.

               I look forward to old age but I have to admit it is a little daunting. 

               I imagine leaving the womb was tough for the embryo but, after the vaginal dismount, there was breath; puberty was extremely difficult but it did lead to sex and having kids, which was the scariest thing I ever did yet I found it to be the most rewarding aspect of my life, so far.

               I don’t know what lies ahead but I can say for certain that it will be hard and, in the end, I’m reasonably sure that I will find happiness along the way.

              


For more of the Kayak Hombre, read my book Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure or River Tango. Available on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle.

              

              

Tango Madison

               Finally, another real tango adventure! I do enjoy going to new places and inching my way into the tango crowd. Tonight, I went The Cardinal Bar at 418 East Wilson Street, Madison, WI. There were about 35 people there and, guess what ladies? There was a huge shortage of followers! Yes, once again, the event that supposedly never happens, happens once again.

               I’d guess there were five more guys than gals the whole night. I didn’t get any dances except with the instructor whom I almost forced to dance with me. I’m not complaining, I was just there to check it out and I know it takes awhile for strangers to warm up to me, especially way out here in the cheese capital of America.

               The bar was a little strange. The dance floor was in one room and the tables and chairs were in another. From the room with the tables and chairs, you could watch the dancers on two monitors but I found it hurt my neck as the monitors were near the ceiling.

               The instructors gave a very good hour-long beginner lesson which I caught most of. They didn’t try to overwhelm the students with fancy moves, they just focused on moving to the music, walking forward and swaying.

               The talent pool ranged from total beginner to expert Argentine but most of the people were beginner-intermediate level like most Americans are. Dress was very casual and I only saw a few pairs of nice high-heeled shoes.

               I can’t remember the instructors’ names; I think the woman I danced with was named Heather. She was very nice, no negative vibes and she danced with all the beginners, several times.

               Here is a link to the Madison Tango website: http://www.madisontango.org/

               That’s all I have to report since I didn’t get any dances. This is a typical experience for a tango dancer entering a new community. I’ve done this so many times now, it is almost routine. I’ll be here for a whole year. Hopefully I'll be spending a few weeks in Durango every other month, so I’m in no hurry to see what it’s like dancing tango with these people. It’ll happen soon enough.

               It was not such a bad drive, only 120 miles. Milwaukee is a much bigger town and only an hour further. Chicago is only another two hours and I’m certain that I’m going to be making that drive sooner or later, so stay tuned for some more exciting tango news from the Kayak Hombre and Capitan Frog. 

Peace, love, tango

perri

The Tango Quantum

Tango is food for the soul. The dining experience is totally dependent upon the two people connected through the tango embrace. A tango dance can result in a broken heart as well as a spiritual ascension. If practiced with regularity, dancing tango can lead to a rich and fulfilling existence. 

Our ability to have our hearts broken is the great equalizer in life. No matter how rich or poor we are, regardless of our physical or mental health, none of us can escape the pain of a lost love if it decides to pursue us.

The opposite of this is also true: there is no greater pleasure in life than one that can soothe the soul.

In the course of survival, we often become consumed with the pursuit of wealth and power. Money and material things are empty calories when it comes to satisfying our spiritual hunger: sweet, but lacking any real nourishment. So it is with influence and status in society; our authority over others gives us a thrill but, if not used for the common good, become the wheels that carry us to our destruction.

The beautiful thing about tango is that it is an ephemeral experience. There are no material rewards, only memories of the engagement. The attraction between two people has nothing to do with their outward appearance, bank account or social stature; it is all internal and beyond. It is sex for the soul, a chemical reaction that is quantum in its characteristics: both celestial and molecular simultaneously, a moment in time that always was, and always will be, but never known until the connection was completed and the music begun.




For more of the Kayak Hombre, read my book Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure or River Tango. Available on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle.

Tango at the Wild Horse Saloon

               I’m back in Durango for a couple of weeks, telecommuting to work for a change. Durango is a special place for me and many other people. One of the reasons for its specialness, besides the steam engine rides on America’s only other narrow-gauge railroad, the low-key topnotch ski resort now named after the town but formerly known as Purgatory, and the awesome whitewater rafting on the rapids of the Animas River, is the dance scene at the Wild Horse Saloon.

               This is a cowboy bar that makes its living slinging beers and mixed drinks. Durango is, surprisingly, a working class town, and the brews are reasonably priced.

               Inside you will find ‘riggers’ from the gas wells, carpenters, nurses and ski bums. You will also find an incredibly wide variety of men from all over America who make the Wild Horse their home for the weekend. Hailing from all points of the compass, these men are capable leaders of all sorts of dances, from country 2-step to rumba and salsa, and now tango.

               There is always a live band on Friday and Saturday nights with a $5 cover charge. The dancers arrive early, around seven o’clock, and most of us hang our coats on chairs around George’s table, a regular patron since I’ve been coming here nearly two years ago. 

               Last night, there were nine coats on four seats surrounding a table barely big enough for two people.

               I’ll probably catch hell for this but I’ll be gone Sunday, heading back to Wisconsin. It seems to me that most of the women are beginner dancers, with only one or two years of experience. The leaders, on the other hand, are lifelong dancers who’ve forgotten more dance steps than even they can remember.

               At about 9:30, the crowd on the dance floor starts to fill with younger dancers until it is too packed for anyone to move.

               Most of the music playing is country with a strong Latino flavor. Every now and then, I’ll hear a melody that strongly suggests ochos or milonga steps and I’ll dance tango. No one seems to mind and my dance partner and I have even gotten some heart-felt compliments.

               Next month, Mike Malixi and Carrie Field, a pair of tango instructors from Taos, will be here for a workshop and I’m certain they will be at the Wild Horse Saloon after the free lesson at Durango Dance, just a few blocks away.

               Mike is no stranger to dancing tango in a country bar as he hails from Montana. The beautiful Carrie, I’m certain, will be overwhelmed by a slew of dance invitations and she will no doubt delight her partners when they find they  are dancing with a world traveling tanguera.

               As I walked down the street at 10:30, the snow-covered Rocky Mountains fighting the stars for a piece of the sky, I felt elated, relaxed and rejuvenated all at the same time. It was good to be back. Maybe one day I will be back forever.