Well, that was different. But I should have known that from Lynnette’s “adrenaline face.” While we stood in line, Lynnette’s face boasted this kind of glow coupled with a permanent silly grin. It’s the same face she makes while doing things like shopping for knockoff designer handbags on Canal Street in New York City’s Chinatown or parking the car at Ward Warehouse during an Eden in Love sale.
We attended Madison’s dance performance last night and it was a completely new experience. I don’t know what I was expected – maybe something like a summer fun finale or grade school Christmas or May Day program. It wasn’t anything like that.
The first group to hit the stage was comprised of the studio’s instructors. Four of them danced while a fifth sang. I was slightly taken aback because I had only expected kids. They were doing things I would consider complicated. Then again, I can’t spell and I can’t dance, but at gun point to save my life, I would rather try to spell
perserverance perserverence perseverance than dance anything. Anyway, I assume my facial expression during those first four minutes were similar to the ones Christine Taylor made during her first walk-off in Zoolander.
I don’t have any pictures of her actual performance because I couldn’t get a decent angle to shoot from. The seating was such that I couldn’t take a picture that wasn’t 73% people’s heads or backs while I was seated. This pre-show shot and the one I posted to Instagram of Mad getting into the groove are the only dancing pictures I have, but maybe that’s for the best.
Whenever Lynnette pressed Madison about her performance, Madison voiced the unusual (for her) reaction of apprehension. She generally falls on either side of the love/hate scale. The source of her apprehension was very specific: she was worried that she would not be able to remember her moves. Her fear was comically deserved. Like I said, I can’t dance, so I suppose I shouldn’t be a judge for anything like this, but as compared to the rest of the girls in her group, she was somewhere between “noticeably behind” and “horrible.” She was cute as hell and she tried her very best, but there was something wrong about the way she moved. The best way I can explain it is like this: it was as if she could only remember where she had to be/move to OR the dance moves, but not both. Whenever she had to stand still, she was fine. Whenever the choreography involved running or jumping, it was over. She even broke character once to wave at the audience, but not at Lynnette and I. When we asked her later who she waved to, she said she didn’t know.
After the show, the three of us, Lynnette’s parents, and her aunt and uncle went to dinner at a nearby Zippy’s. I carried my dancing queen through the parking lot. “Do you know what my favorite part was?” I asked her. “What!?” she shouted excitedly. I lifted my free arm out in front of me. “When you were on your back and your legs went like this,” I said, moving my arm up and down. “Oh, yeah, yeah,” that was a fun part she said. “You know what the funniest part was?” I asked. Her eyes grew and she shook her head from side-to-side. “It was when you did this,” I said, exaggerating a frozen moment. “Because you forgot your move.” She closed her eyes, smiled and shook her head. “I did, I did,” she said. “Well, did you have fun?” I asked her. “Yeah, yeah, the lights were so bright!” she said.
Over dinner, Madison expressed her desire to continue with the dancing classes and it pleased me. Honestly, I cannot see myself ever getting into or going all-in on dance. I am unlikely to waste away hours of my life Googling dance styles and famous dancers like they’re integral parts of the Star Wars universe. I am simply happy that Madison has a hobby that she genuinely enjoys. She has my undying support so long as she doesn’t start choreographing her own routines to Miley Cyrus tracks so she can book weddings and first birthday parties.