Tonight is the night when we fulfill a personal dream that began a year ago while totally unexpected I found myself being wheeled to the operating room of East Jefferson General Hospital. Conflicted and uncertain of the outcome, I was haunted by thoughts of life after the unthinkable. My dearest love and life partner continuing the journey without her Tangoman was a thought hard to formulate. A cynical New Jersey housewife wrote later, “Bud, she’ll do OK,” projecting in the reality of her statement a possible lack of partner intimacy, the kind I have been so fortunate to nurture with my dancing butterfly.
Most social tango dancers I know reach a level of mediocrity where they begin to view the way others dance in a negative way, passing judgment and lamenting their shortcomings on account of others behavior. I stopped playing the game of judging the way others dance when we began to dance together. I realize now how much I love the way we dance, the way we economize movement and milk the three minutes of any tango, and how each time feels like a new beginning. It’s almost sinful not to share it.
During the recovery process I promised myself to enter the US Salon Tango Championship held annually in New York City in July, the birth month of my dear Valorie. What could be better than to treat my dear Mariposa with a reunion with friends from the previous life while doing what we love the most in our current life. The perfect birthday present that keeps on giving.
So here we are getting ready to head for the Stepping Out Studios, pouring rain or not. We will be dancing three pieces with eleven other couples in front of a panel of three judges. All the preparation, the long walks, the late night milongas, have got us ready to go out on the dance floor and dance tango, our dance.