The bad news is that I didn’t get to dance with Frankie Manning as I’d hoped to. He didn’t do the social dancing at night, which is fair enough given that during the day he continually amazed me with the dexterity and exertions he was still capable of. So if the man wanted to take it easy at night, I was happy to let him. Perhaps I still have a tiny chance at the Esplanade library tonight, where he’s giving a talk (is there anyone else who can give a talk entitled “91 Years of Lindy-Hop” except this man?), but only if there’ll actually be any dancing at the end of it. Anyway, I’m just grateful I got the opportunity to attend his classes – that alone was worth the price of admission.
The good news is that after lindy-hopping on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday (with Saturday and Sunday involving 6 hours of classes during the day, then social dancing on punishing concrete for several hours more), today my body is still mostly none the worse for wear. This is a nice change from post-wakeboarding Mondays when my body is a symphony of pain. Also, in the course of the camp I had the best slow dance and the most exhilarating fast dance I’ve ever had. Thank God the fast “dance” was only 45 seconds or so (during a class, with our hot Swedish teacher), or I don’t think I could have survived the entire thing.
So here’s to another fabulous weekend, and hopefully a lifetime more of lindy-hopping to go.