DANCING WITH THE SQUARES

If you've ever seen a lamp trying to walk, you've seen me dance. It's just one in a long list of things for which I have NO aptitude.

Back in the 6th grade, the last hour of every Thursday was Square Dance time! We'd all move our desks in a wide circle to form a dance floor. We alternated between boy-ask-girl & girl-ask-boy.

Square dancing was considered just as corny back in 1963 as it is today. I don't understand why they forced us to do it.

Worse, the son of a multi-millionaire happened to be in the same class. My mother went bananas when she discovered this! According to my mom, I had been handed a gift. I was encouraged to flirt and be extra special nice to him. "It would pay off when we got into High School," she assured me.

This boy looked like husky version of Howdy Doody. He was hardly a little girl's dream prince. I had zero interest in him and vice-versa.

But every Thursday when I returned from school, my mother waited by the door inquiring if HE had asked me to dance. "I want to tell everyone a multi-millionaire's son asked you! Why hasn't he?" she complained.

I told her, "Just forget it!" Doody was one of the popular kids. He never once looked in my direction. Plus when it was my turn to ask, boys often just ignored me. I was left standing there until the teacher forced them to get up. None of the other girls had this problem. I was that unpopular!

I had no desire to dance with any of those boys, either! However, I would never have publicly humiliated anyone that way!

I did NOT tell my mother that part! She would have blamed me for being such a pariah.

Half-way thru the school year, a boy named Walter would drag his desk clear across the room to be beside me. Walter was also an unpopular kid. But unlike me, he knew how to fly under the radar. Walter and I danced only with each other.

Due to numerous issues, (I will spare you details this time.) the following year I ended up in what they call a "Special School" in West Palm Beach. (It was for kids with physical or emotional problems.) This is where I spent my 1st year of Junior High.

Since we lived in Stuart, my parents rented an apartment. (My family was still affluent then.) Mom & I stayed there during the week. We came home on weekends.

My mother instructed me never to admit I was going to THAT school. When asked, I was to reply that I attended the local junior high. I went along with this for the 1st month, before refusing. The kids at the "Special School" were nicer to me than what I was accustomed. I'd already made lots of friends! I SAW NO SHAME IN GOING THERE.

Often, rude people asked WHY I went, because I didn't look handicapped. I was always tempted to cross my eyes, wag my tongue in their faces and loudly declare, "I am crazy!"

Quickly my mother would reply, "She's a slow learner!"

Early in the school year, my mother signed me up for dance lessons at The Grace A. Thomas Dance Studio in Lake Worth. It was every THURSDAY evening! This was unwelcome news, to say the least! Mom swore it was only a 6 week course. -- She lied! It was closer to 6 months.

My mother seemed to think I would be attending formal dances when I returned to "normal" school. After all, the future Mrs. Doody needed to know how to dance.

We had a screaming fight! My mother slapped me! I was ordered to shut up. In frustration, I turned and kicked the screen out of the door!

My mother was clueless in more ways than one!

The Dance Studio taught only Ballroom Dancing. In 1964, it was already out of fashion with the young crowd. Only dorks & squares still did it. Everyone else just got up and shook their booty to the music.

Now that I am old, Ballroom Dancing has become popular. -- Go figure!

The only dance I managed to learn was the Waltz. I could never remember the steps to any of the others. So I just created my own! Naturally, I received strange looks from my partners. But I was the kid from the "Special School" so no one was really surprised.

After about 12 weeks, the owners of the studio phoned my mom and offered to refund her money. Usually, they didn't give refunds, but in my case, they were making an exception.

When I returned to regular school, I never attended a single dance! I didn't even go to my Prom. Walter was long gone. And I'm sure Waltz music was never played!

Fast-forward to October 2012, I went to the Zombie Formal with my great friend Rose. All tarted-up in zombie make-up, I took the dance floor and shook my booty with wild abandon! It was a memorable night to treasure. At 61 years old, I was having more fun than I ever did in school! -- No one did the Waltz. I've forgotten how, anyway.