When I was in grade school, I took dance and gymnastics lessons. I don’t remember how the lessons broke down; I think it was 10 minutes of warmup, then 15 minutes each of tap, ballet, and tumbling, with shoe changes in between. I never got very good at any of these activities, but my favorite far and away was tap dancing. I loved the shoes, I loved the noise, I loved the energy, and I loved that I could actually do it. I never managed to channel a gazelle and jete gracefully, and I never pulled off a back flip without help. But step-heel-turn? I did that that move to get across the kitchen even before I took lessons.

I got into these lessons because my best friend at the time, Kristin, was also taking them. She was like-minded, we both hammered away at shuffle-ball-change and then sort of phoned in the floating like a butterfly portion of the evening. I am sure there were other girls in the class, but I don’t remember a thing about them. Lessons were Monday nights on the second floor of a drafty old building in downtown Moline, with wooden floors and high ceilings and a big thick tumbling matt down the center of the room that you were supposed to run and do handsprings on. I assume someone in my class could pull those off, but it wasn’t me or Kristin. We would show up in our leotards and tights (under parkas, in winter), do 50 situps, 50 pushups, and 100 jumping jacks, and then get to work.

I lasted two years in those lessons. I know this because I was in two recitals. For the first one, I wore a green-and-white striped satin costume with green sequins and a green half-tutu that was reminiscent of an 1800s Old West saloon keeper. For the second one, I got a much girlier pink number with a full tutu, silver sequins, and these detached chiffon decorative sleeves with elastic at both ends. I cannot for the life of me remember the ballet numbers, but I remember very clearly that the tap numbers were Johnny Desmond’s Straw Hat and a Cane and some girl singer’s rendition of April Showers. (I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Judy Garland, but … maybe?) I no longer remember the steps, however.

In the middle of these lessons, Xanadu came out. Nerd that I was (even at 9), I was more excited to see Gene Kelly than Olivia Newton-John (and was way more familiar with Singing in the Rain than I was with Grease). We didn’t have a TV (that’s a whole ‘nother blog post), so I didn’t realize it was a roller skating movie and was incredibly disappointed at how little tap-dancing was involved—but I was gratified to watch the duet scene and think “Hey, I could do that number with a bit of practice.” Not so much at 54 (much less 68, like Kelly was at the time).

Eventually I ditched dancing for flute playing, but I still love to watch it. I was delighted when White Nights came out when I was in high school, and I drove my family nuts when Chicago was finally made into a movie. I still don’t have Apple TV, so I missed Spirited, although it’s on my list. Any other recommendations?