Aww.

My grumpness continued unabated through the weekend, to the point where I spent most of my time at home, trying not to think about anything tango-related. Which, of course, means that I have spotless bookshelves, color-coordinated colosets, and hand-stenciled miniatures of the Taj Mahal framing the walls in my kitchen.

Okay, no I don't, but I was really committed to avoiding tango.

This morning, I pulled up a snarky news website I enjoy and saw this:




It took me a long time to realize this was an ad for something, because I was trying to decide what song they were dancing to.

It doesn't solve anything, but it's kind of adorable.

Bastardy Grump.

You know, sometimes I just want to give up.

Not tango itself, but...a lot of people show up every night, dance around, go home. They tango Tuesdays, waltz Wednesdays, salsa Saturdays, swing Sundays. They do it to get out of the house, to have a good time with friends, whatever.

They don't sit around breaking their feet to the ground until their heels bruise, working on getting feet like Geraldine. They don't agonize over the length of their back step, over their embrace, over their inability to properly lead to Biagi. Tango just doesn't hurt for them, and none of my snark will make them care as much as I care.

So, what's the point?

The tango-blog-as-personal-journey has a much more lenient expiration date, since the chronicle of a life tends to make a good story no matter the subject, but this blog is anonymous, and there's only so much I can say that applies to everyone. My meaningful experiences with tango tend to happen far away from this blog; the generalities are wearing thin, especially as the internet fills up with "man, I hate it when the leader smells" posts.

So, what can you do? How many times can you say something before it stops being funny and just gets strident? How long before you turn into some asshole who blogs a thousand words a day just to listen to the sound of his own keyboard (Miles)?

Yes, I'm in a bad mood, and I'm sure my bad mood will lift in direct proportion to the number of hideous tango dresses I can find online in the next week, but for the moment...nada.

Dinner of champions.

Okay, I'm soliciting comments on foods that are wise to eat before a milonga, in the hopes that some misguided person will realize that garlic pasta is not the best thing they could eat before going to a milonga and asking people to dance in close embrace?

(It's not me. I promise.)

Pretend I'm in an outpost somwhere!

Work has me swamped right now, so unfortunately there hasn't been enough time to go dancing and attract some trouble worth blogging about. Pretend I'm in an outpost somewhere and my internet is being supplied with a piece of string and some eletric shocks.

I did dance a little this weekend, and was pleasantly surprised by two things:

1) My acceptance as a leader in the community is growing; women ask me on a semi-regular basis if I'm "dancing this one". I'm gratified and relieved that people no longer take it for a science experiment and accept me as one of the leaders they can choose from, the same as anyone. That...that's a very special feeling. It's the "let's dance TWO tandas" feeling.

2) My progress as a follower is...well, let's put it this way. I have a pair of suede heels that I am only recently wearing. I wore them out dancing for maybe an hour this weekend. When i got home, the nap was already worn down on the instep of the ball of the foot, and the scuffs on the bottoms of the shoes were two concentric circles, one under the big toe, one on the instep of the ball of the foot. I only remember listening for the lead and trying to stay on balance; according to my shoes, my technique is coming along on its own.

I could have cried with joy, you guys. I'm not totally hopeless as a follower! Feel the magic of totally ruining my shoes in a single night! Feel it!

Line of Dance: A Field Guide

If you recognize this diagram:

you probably dance tango in North America (and yes, not in Denver, we know, we know).

This is because leaders were issued a field guide, except in Denver, because they ran out just before the Colorado border.

SO YOU WANT TO LEARN ABOUT THE LINE OF DANCE

Congratulations, tanguero! You've been to class, you've watched the vids, you've bought the shoes, you've showered almost daily, and you're on your way to greatness.

So you find yourself at the milonga, and joy of joys, a woman accepts your invitation! Now all you have to do is put that hard work to use. But don't forget that any dance can be ruined by just one fatal collision. Check out these rules of the floor to make sure your navigation is as smooth as your pick-up lines.

1. Line of dance is counterclockwise, unless you feel like going clockwise, in which case, by all means do.

2. If the guy in front of you is too slow, that's his problem. Let the music move you right past him! It's just like driving; they have two lanes for a reason.

3. If you're going to pause, then really pause. Take all the time you need. The guy behind you knows about the two lanes; if he wants to move, he'll move.

4. Sometimes you'll see a break in traffic across the room. Sieze the moment and make a break for it. The people in the middle will understand, nay, envy you.

5. After-dance bathroom break? You've played Frogger before; dodge yourself some dancers and get to the restrooms in half the time.

6. Remember, there are no slow songs, only slow dancers. Rev it up, tangueros!

Oh no he didn't!

So I had another post all planned out for today, but then this happened and I wanted to write about it because HAHAHAHAH oh my GOD.

I'm leading more than following these days (I know, I know, contain your shock). As I go along, I'm discovering all the tiny adjustments that I need to make for each follower for maximum dance enjoyment. One of my favorite followers is about four inches taller than I am, and the way I hold her is completely different from the way I hold another favorite follower, who is about five inches shorter than I am (sans heels). In fact, in the beginning the only way we could dance comfortably was by taking the embrace and then taking it again, using our joining arms to gently nudge her arm up along my shoulder to a place near my clavicle where it fit. We've since found two or three other positions that work, but as two close-embrace dancers with Teh Boobs, it started out needing a little adjustment.

Oops, two more paragraphs until we get to this guy. Bear with me!

So my point is, I understand that the embrace needs to be adjusted according to physicality, preference (a couple of guys I know can't stand the fashionable open-hand semi-Urquiza embrace, and so I go for old-school milonguero embrace with them, etc etc), and what you plan to do with the song. You can probably skate through a Pugliese tanda without ever seriously opening the embrace, but if you hit D'Arienzo, you'd going to want a little more room to play.

To sum up: I am all for adjusting the embrace in the beginning of the tanda, at the beginning ot each song, in the middle of a song. I'm pro-adjusting. HOWEVER (yes, you reached it), hypothetically, I would guess it is not okay to take the embrace and then grab hold of the back of the follower's neck and try to push her head down so you're cheek to cheek. I mean, I'm just guessing.

First of all, your hypothetial follower is about six inches taller than you and doesn't want a faceful of your scalp, hypothetically.

Second of all, your hypothetical follower immediately brands you "Serial Killer" and walks off the floor to tell everyone she sees what a skeeze you are.

Thirdly, insisting the woman drop her head is forcing her to give up her axis, which makes it harder for her to dance and harder for you to lead her. Not that you'd care about this one; hypothetically, it's not really the dance you're after, you idiot, now is it?

Hypothetically.

Also, note to self: this is what comes of being nice to someone. I can't believe I went against my own advice! Then again, serves me right for stepping into Category B. If I'm not excited by the person extending the invitation, I should just decline. It would help me preserve some kind of hope for the future of tango.

Yeesh. How soon can I go to Buenos Aires?

LOLtango.

Unless you're living under a rock, you probably know about LOLcats, the anthropomorphic wonders who have taken over the internet. The phonomenon is so prevalent it has its own glossary, accompanied by semi-academic thesis. It has spawned the immortal LOLTrek.

I think you know where I'm going with this.

My Internal Monologue.

Preparing to go dancing tonight.

I have already gotten a couple of followers on my dance card, which I think is really awesome, because they are very nice and they asked me at the end of the last milonga I went to, sort of, "Oh, I didn't get a chance to dance with you tonight - I'll be there Friday, though, and I'd love to vals with you!"

(Nobody should love valsing with me yet, by the way. I'm not very good at it. This lady was probably tired. Or a little delusional. Very sweet, though!)

A lot of the reason it's nice (besides having tandas set up already and therefore a reason to go) is because it saves me from the Leader's Internal Monologue, which goes something like this.

"Ooooh, D'Agostino/Vargas! I love this orchestra! Hmmm, is there anyone around? Oh, there's Anne! I love dancing with her, but I wonder if she - wait, wait, did she just cabeceo me? She did! Oh awesome! Wait, no, there's something in her eye. Wait, no, it's the cabeceo! Wait, not, it's something in her eye. She's sort of getting up! Oh, she's just crossing her legs. Okay, I'll look away, no good staring. Wait, now she's staring at ME! She looks hurt! Oh no, did I hurt her feelings? Maybe she just hates this tanda. Maybe that thing is still in her eye!"

Of course, by then its song #2 of the tanda, and when Anne finally comes over I feel like the world's biggest nerd.

Anyway, I am reluctant to take a lot of intiative as a leader, since I've had one or two VERY strong rejections from women. So I guess my point is: followers, if there's a woman leader in your community and you like dancing with her, ask her to dance.

She'll love it, even if it might take her a minute or five to catch on.

Waaahnesday.

Dancing last night was not great; as soon as I get nervous once, it's tough for me to recover, and unlike more seasoned tangueras like Holly, Tina, and Caroline, I still can't think, "Eh, that was a dud tanda." Instead think, "Oh GOD, my tango stock has PLUMMETED, my technique is RUINED, I will NEVER DANCE AGAIN."

I am a little bit of a pessimist.

During these times of Horrified Followeritis, it's nice to be able to lead. I find leading relaxing - there's a certain watchfulness for floorcraft, obviously, but when I am the leader I feel I am able to make a deeper connection with my partner, because I rarely trust a leader not to lead stupid shit, and my leading is so simple that my follower knows she doesn't have to worry about anything but embellishments.

(That said, sometimes I do trust a leader not to lead stupid shit, and then I'm all over the connection from the follower's side - a week or two ago I reached the end of a tanda with a leader and realized I was crying. That was pretty awesome, you guys, no lie. Except that when I cry my eyes get really red, so I look like a vampire, which sort of takes away the romance. Oh well!)

I do find it interesting that some leaders ask for a dance now by saying, "So, are you past following?"

It's asked as if following is a lesser stage of dancing that one goes through in order to reach the more enlightened and elite plateau of leading, and I find it weird and off-putting.

I totally understand asking, "Do you still follow?" because that indicates a preference and is a totally valid question to which the answer is, "Do you lead ganchos?"

But to ask (and always with a tone that's a little...defensive? Challenging? I dunno) if I'm "past following" is sad, mostly because I personally find leading a hell of a lot easier than following. Following is the hard part, you guys! Haven't you seen the shoes?!

Ah well. These are the same guys who refer to women as "follows" and not "followers", even though a "follower" is a human being and "follow" is a present-tense verb. Stop turning perfectly good humans into gerunds, people, seriously! (And before you ask, no, saying someone is a good "lead" is not the same thing; it's also wrong, since "lead" is a verb and "leader" is a noun, but the implications of a brain-dead shell in nice shoes is not present.) So I guess I shouldn't expect much from this particular breed of guy. And yet, I get a little annoyed every time, half because of the implied misogyny and half because it's just bad grammar, and there is never an excuse for bad grammar.

I'm going to try again a little later this week and see how the following goes, but je ne sais quoi.

Bugs.

I HATE bugs. HATE them. I just spent ten minutes in a war with a grasshopper that involved a broom, a vacuum, girly screaming, jumping around, scolding the grasshopper, and the throwing of shoes. Not tango shoes, of course, but still.

I was planning to go out tonight and catch a dance or two, but killing the bug totally wore me out and I am still not sure if I can relax enough to dance. Bugs wind me up THAT much.

Tell me a pretty story that involves tango and NOT bugs.

Aww!

I love seeing a woman strap on a new pair of shoes for the first time; the gleam in her eye as she crosses her legs in her chair and subtly checks out her own feet.

I am totally jealous of that woman, whoever she is, wherever she is. I want some new shoes, dammit!

Though I might as well actually go to Buenos Aires, since by the time I bought all the shoes I wanted at the American import prices I will have paid for airfare and approximately fifteen weeks in the Hilton. I have a serious lust for shoes, you guys. It's like zombies and brains.

When Animal-Attacked Dresses Attack!

The online tango storefront is a treacherous place. You can be swimming along, clicking through pictures of strappy shoes, Pugliese CDs, not-so-strappy shoes, that print of two people dancing that is some kind of tango government issue. You're enjoying yourself. It's good times.

And then, you click on 'Apparel'.



Not bad! you think to yourself. Sure, she seems a little awkward in this pose - maybe she doesn't like pink? Neither do you, but if someone paid you you'd wear it. And the skirt has a little flair, the waist a little interest, and it looks very comfortable and easy to move in. You wonder if it comes in black, and you scroll down.

That's when it happens.


A vicious, pixelated attack on this poor model, whose blue velvet dress was violently ripped away until nothing remained but a neon foundation garment and a ragged slip of skirt that can't avoid revealing the high-waisted, lacey, monokini granny panties that lurk beneath! Your only consolation is that her fishnets obviously have plenty of animal-repellent control-top action, and that she will be able to walk for help without her legs freezing. She will make it through this. She will, in time, forget.

Can you?

Boiling down, boiling over.

Okay, people.

I've witnessed two fundamental approaches to tango, beyond differences in style and ability and geography and family legacy and dietary requirements and tectonic plates and whatever else:

A) Dancing with you is a pleasure for me.

B) Dancing with me is a pleasure for you.

The rise of tango blogging has brought these two mindsets into sharp relief, and there could be college papers written on how these mindsets are split almost exactly along gender lines, with women in category A and men in category B. (In fact, I think I am the only female blogger bastardy enough to be lumped with the males. Go me?)

However, I'm putting aside all the gender implications etc etc. because I graduated college a looong time ago and have no wish to go back. We'll do this in general terms.

People in category A understand that when you ask someone to dance and they accept, or when someone asks you to dance and you accept, some accomodation might need to be made. Tango is not (supposed to be) stage dance. You get four songs for a reason - tango's a conversation. You can spend the first song introducing yourselves, the second song finding a mutually agreeable topic, and the last two songs listening to the music.

Most good leaders and followers are in this category. We like these people. They're nice. They say hi. They like puppies!

People in category B think that they're so good that people are lucky to get to dance with them.

People who would be in category B for a good reason: Julio, Corina, Gustavo, Geraldine, Javier, Graciela, Firpo, Dany, Natacha, Tete, Silvia, Samantha, Pablo, Silvina, Sergio, Alejandra, Fabian, Carolina, and company.

People from that list who are actually in category B: probably Pablo. He seems like kind of a poop. Everybody else is very gracious in declining, or very gracious in dancing, which puts them back up in Category A.

People who are in category B and shouldn't be: almost everyone besides those people.

When someone agrees to dance with you, you're enjoying the dance together. It's not a one-man show, it's not an embellishment class, and it's not a practica redux. It's a conversation set to music. If you want to be a stand-up comedian, a debate-club member, or a lounge singer, go for it, but tango is not a solo act, and the person dancing with you is not a prop. If she's trying to feel Fresedo and you're hitting the traspie, you're not listening to her.

Huh. This was supposed to be gender-neutral, but come to think of it, I've danced with women way out of my league and they never made me feel like they were doing me a favor (even though they obviously were), so it's back on the dudes. Get the hell out of category B, man!

It's not you, it's me.

Recently I've thought about some projects for the blog that might be funny, or useful, or good for picking your teeth with, or something. The problem is, I hesitate to turn this blog into a Real Project. I get caught up enough in this crazy tango blog world without attempting a serious endeavor, and I'm pretty sure I could be putting energy into my job or my house instead of contemplating a parody of Jennifer Bratt's embellishment series, you know?

On the other hand, I have these hilarious tango shoes I could use...

See? See what happens?! *sigh*

Fridaywheee!

Oh, how I love Jorge Firpo. He's part of my tango crime-fighting team! In this clip, he's doing a class demo with one of his students, and as usual when Firpo dances, he's awesome.

This is what a weekend should feel like. Dance, my moustached pretty! Dance!

Where's my Cure CD?

Was feeling a little emo earlier this week about my leading plight, and even wrote a post to that effect before I realized I sounded, by turns, emo and arrogant. No one comes here for the emo, and if you want blogs from arrogant tango leaders, I think any tango blog written by a man is pretty much taking care of that, so have fun! (Exception, as always, for Tango and Chaos.)

Instead, I have decided to bring you another installment of "The History of Tango Music." Part 3 of 34,985.

3. "Umbrella", Rihanna and her eight million ghostwriters

Lyric sample:

No clouds in my storms
Let it rain, I hydroplane in the bank
Coming down with the Dow Jones.

I have no idea what this means. Any takers? Okay, so that's not fair, it's from the intro rap. We'll try something from the body of the song:

Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we'll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
You can stand under my umbrella
(Ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella
(Ella ella eh eh eh)


Oooooookaaay.

What makes it tango?: Not a thing. I just don't get this song whatsoever, and you guys all have to suffer, too.

Playable?: I don't know. Let's ask the eight million people driving around with their windows down and their subwoofers shaking the ground under your feet who have been playing this song on repeat for six weeks.

Actually, there are acoustic versions of this song that are "tango" in that they keep 4/4 time, but the eight-count phrasing is missing, so dancing to it would get boring, and seriously, nothing is sadder than a soulful, earnest, acoustic version of a terrible song. Nothing.

If you, lucky soul, haven't heard this song yet, the video is here.

Things to note:

1) They're not even trying with the en pointe stuff. It's the legs of an en point dancer, and Rihanna's top half. They do not even try to fool you on this.

2) Good girl + top hat and shorts = bad girl. Warn Liza Minelli!

Milonga

Campeonato, baby!

Second round of the Milonga division. I have my favorites; do you?

(I also have some least favorites that make me question how they managed to squeak through into the second round, though what I can find of the first round is inconclusive and so I can't see how good the pool was prior to this.)

(This is, of course, on the context of Best Milonga Couple in the World; any social leader could look like any one of these guys and that would be absolutely fine with me. Aaaaabsolutely fine.)

PS. My favorite couple won. Yay! (I had no idea what their names were, and had to identify them by their outfits. I am clearly very knowledgeable. They're the couple in tan/leopard.)

PPS. These guys had to perform for the judging panel of: Marta Anthon, El Flaco Dany, Aurora Lubiz, Julio Balmaceda, Graciela Gonzalez, Teté, Gachi Fernandez and Juan Fernandez.

HAHAHAHAHAAHA how did they manage to even dance in front of that panel? If confronted with all those people, I would have a heart attack and die. And then worry they would critique my death technique. I am having a panic attack just looking at that list of names.

Sigh.

Every once in a while, it all comes together.

I played hooky with a project yesterday - just got fed up, grabbed heels, and ran for the door without spending half an hour debating my outfit, debating if I should go, what it would mean if I led first rather than following for a while first.

Ended up having one of my best following nights ever. My weird head thing is magically fixed, I was able to relax and wait without trying to second guess my leader, and the music was perfect (well, there could have been a little more Di Sarli, but you could play nothing but Di Sarli all night and I would still be like, "There could have been a little more Di Sarli..."). And apparently, putting no thought into tango is the best thing you can do for it? I mean, I have a solid axis all of a sudden! I'm getting amazing compliments on my musicality and feeling!

This is not me, but it felt like that! Photo by Nadasdy, click to go to the Flickr.

I had the option to stay longer, but after a while it felt like tempting fate and I packed it in and left.

In conclusion: best night of hooky EVER. It's like playing hooky from school, except that instead of you spending all day sitting around watch TV and then your parents finding out and grounding you, you play hooky and end up meeting a rock band by accident and they take you on tour with them.

With Wolves, I Say!

I have found another charming gentleman in the tango blogosphere. "Milongas/No hay luz/Ask Aleandro" (yes, that's the actual title) features, among other things, Ask Aleandro, where Neil's alter-ego Aleandro answers tango questions "from readers". Except, he sort of doesn't answer them at all.

Aleandro,
Why do women want to lead?
Gracias,
Sampson, a strong man with long hair

Dear Sampson,
If she chooses to dance with women that's up to her. But for me, it's better to dance with wolves than to dance with a woman who leads other women.
I'm old fashioned . . . like an Old World Gentleman . . . like a Milonguero from Buenos Aires.
Be careful. Don't let your guard down or fall asleep. She may cut your hair or other parts of your body that keep you strong.
Chau,
Aleandro

Okay, a few things.

1) The English major in me is totally stressed out that he didn't answer the question. Address the topic! Your "reader" wants to know about the motivation, not your aversion! It's like Composition 101 over here! Gah!

2) Dude has a castration thing going on that I don't really understand. Ew.

3) I am going to start using the "dance with wolves" thing everywhere I go, in all situations. It's priceless.

"Planchadora, would you like a second helping of potatoes?"
"I would rather dance with wolves than eat more of your potatoes!"

"You should come out with us!"
"I would rather dance with wolves than stay up significantly past my regular bedtime!"

"Welcome to Macy's! What can I help you with today?"
"I would rather dance with wolves than wear your casual career clothing!"

(This all must be said in Bombastic Renaissance Faire Nobleman Voice, obviously.)


ETA: I'm seriously practicing it. "I would rathah dahnce with WOOOOOLVES than wear your causal careeah clothing!"

ETA 2: The one pointed out in the comments is even funnier. These are the fakest "readers" in the land.

A Guide to Invitations, by a Traumatized Dancer.

Ways Guys Should Maybe Not Ask for Dances, with Commentary Entirely in Punctuation:

"Hey, you're a lot thinner than the last time I saw you!" (!)

"Have you worked on your volcadas any? We could try them out." (??)

"Hey, for a second I thought you were Jake! New haircut?" (...)

"Let me just rub your shoulders." (!!)


Now look, I am as sensitive to anyone else as to the horrors of making conversation with people from whom you want something. It's why I am a terrible salesperson, because my mindset is: why the hell should I make people buy something I'm not enthusiastic about myself?

However, hearing all of these things within 24 hours of each other really makes me despair as to the level of conversation people can expect at milongas. Two of these are embarrassing, one is sort of hilariously challenging, and one is just creepy. When you walk up behind someone and rub their shoulders, you had better be a blood relative or a romantic partner of that person, you guys. Seriously. I should not have to spell this out for anyone.

(Can you tell I got the fourth guy? Still shuddering. No touching without express permission, people; it's common courtesy.)

Best part? He was surprised - nay, hurt and confused! - when I declined the dance.

Gentlemen! When asking for a dance, maybe something a little more innocuous? When in doubt, please feel free to print out and refer to this handy guide.

TOPICS TO AVOID:

Weight loss, weight gain, visible cleavage, extreme youth, extreme age, skirt length, our inevitable mortality, your desire to rub her shoulders, body odor (hers or someone else's), how much better you are than her chosen partner, this great new move you learned in class and wish to try out, your desire to rub her shoulders, politics, your cousin Bob who's doing 3 to 5 for car theft, this weird rash you have on your knee, your desire to rub her shoulders.

ACCEPTABLE TOPICS:

Shoes, the weather, the music, the crowd, puppies, personalities of recent guest teachers, anticipation of upcoming guest teachers, ice cream, YouTube tango videos, and economics.


QUIZ

Name the unacceptable topic in the following invitations.

a) "I love this orchestra! Would you like to dance?"

b) "I'm on my way to dance at the moment, but I would love to have a vals tanda with you later, if you'd like to?"

c) "This lighting is really flattering to you! Would you like to dance?"

d) "Nice to see you! Would you like to dance?"