Tag Archives: Dance

Dancing Shoes

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photo (1)On my way to New Orleans six weeks ago, I was pleasantly surprised at the TSA check.

“You don’t have to take off your shoes,” the lady said.

It was like Christmas and my birthday rolled into one.

Imagine how such a small thing can mean so much.

I prefer to travel in tennis shoes. They are comfortable enough to be worn for long periods. The drawback is they don’t slip on and off.

That means that besides having to hurry and stuff my laptop and tablet back into my carry-on, grab my purse before it whizzes by, all while holding onto my boarding pass and ID with one hand, I have to go find somewhere to sit to put my shoes back on.

It’s a travel nuisance, but when you have fingers that have a tendency to not cooperate the second you want them to, it seems to be a little more than that. Stress makes my fingers sluggish. Or maybe they just get sluggish when they have to do things I don’t want them to do.

As luck would have it, I had to go home for a few days after three weeks of being here. And again I got the same gift. I began to feel special. Wow! I rated being on the OK-to-not-take-your-shoes-off list.

But returning to New Orleans once again, I was rudely awakened to reality. No more special treatment for you, RA Lady. This time I not only had to remove my shoes, I had to submit to being x-rayed. At least I didn’t have to wear one of those designer gowns they hand out at doctor’s offices and hospitals.

It must have been a fluke, both times. I’d hit the shoe lotto and now I was broke again.

But you know what? After almost two months of being away from home, I’ll take my shoes off and walk barefoot all the way to my gate if they want me to. I’m tired of seeing green grass and green trees out the windows. All the windows. A big green 360.

I want to kick off my tennis shoes and slip on my dancing shoes.

I want to go to a club and hold a drink in my hand.

I want to dance to slow reggae.

I want to feel the dizzy creeping up from my feet all the way to my head.

I want to close my eyes and sway the night away.

I want one more blissfully . . . blissful . . . moondance.

 

 

Dancing Away, Away, Away

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Wouldn’t you know it. Just when I get in the mood to go dancing, my foot starts acting up. I haven’t been out dancing in a few months, what with my trip to see my new grandchild and then the holidays, and then all my deadlines cropping up. Every time my husband brought it up, I was like, “No, not tonight.” And no, I didn’t have a headache.

Now I have both a foot ache and an itch to go dancing. I can dance fine, at home, barefoot. But, I don’t think I can go out that way. I’ve been relegated to using my daughter’s left-behind flip-flops for the past few days. Normally, I can’t stand anything between my toes, but I have to suck it up.

Today I had to go visit the vampires in preparation for my rheumatology appointment next week. Gotta keep tabs on all those pesky little numbers that tell you if your meds are helping or hindering. I didn’t want to go out in flip-flops, as nice as these are. So, I tried my tennis shoes and wallah! they didn’t hurt! It made me fall further in love with those shoes.

They cradle my feet and I can walk without having to favor my right foot. The foot is still sore, but tolerable. As long as nothing presses down on the top of it. As happened the other night in my sleep, when I pressed it against the bed. Almost jumped out of my skin, let alone the bed. Next week I’ll consult with my rheumatologist, see if I can play with the steroids some more. Anything to avoid the podiatrist. I go to the doctor enough already.

Now I just want to go dancing.There’s nothing like losing yourself to the music and leaving your earthly cares behind. The beat pounding in your ears, the music flowing up from the floor through your body, filling your lungs, racing through your bloodstream. The ice clinking in your drink as you sway, sway, sway, unable to stand still. Letting go, you close your eyes and are transported away, away, away. So far away you don’t want to come back.

As JLo says:

Dance the night away
Live your life and stay young on the floor
Dance the night away

Tonight we gon’ be it on the floor

Well, not tonight exactly, but this weekend maybe. I’ll have to figure out what shoes to wear with my slinky little dress. It can’t be my tennis shoes. But then again, maybe I’ll start a new trend?