Shuffle off to Buffalo

Somehow I was convinced over margaritas to teach tap to a group of professionals at a friend's company. That's right. Tap. Why does lady tequila make me say these things? Once I volunteered to decorate a Mexican restaurant we were eating in for Christmas. The next thing I knew the restaurant manager was sitting at my table asking me what kind of budget I had in mind.

Note to self: Tequila + Me = Dancing Lessons and Wreath Hanging.

I used to teach tap to kids when I was in high school. I guess I just wanted to make absolutely sure that I wasn't cool. It wasn't bad enough that my birthday cake was decorated like an "Evita" poster. It wasn't bad enough that I was choreographer for our show choir's medley from "Oliver!" It wasn't bad enough that I volunteered to sew sequins on my sister's prom dress. No, that just didn't make me feel gay enough. I had to teach tap.

My stepdad was the athletic director at my high school and was really upset when I quit track so that I could play Moonface Martin in "Anything Goes". Imagine how thrilled he had to be that his swishy stepson was teaching dance in his garage. But hey, the guy sold Amway products, so it's not like he could point a finger.

I'm thinking this whole tap thing came up as a way to avoid thinking about the show. There are rewrites to do. And I've got another big project breathing down my neck. So maybe I'll just go teach tap! Tap. The answer to all of life's problems.

Stomp-hop-step-flap-step!