Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Rumba Here
I see that Jimmy has drunk the Corté Kool-Aid and is now taking dance lessons to make points with his wife. The thing is, after only one lesson he seems to think he qualifies for sainthood. Let me tell you, Boxstep Boy, you'll know when you truly merit that recognition, but at this point your descent into the Nether Regions has scarcely entered the foyer.
Come talk to me when your dance-related expenditures have moved well into four significant digits (including a digital camcorder for taping lessons); when you can discuss the timing of "promenade, rondé, lock and flair" with the same facility that you employ in computing slugging percentage; when your time at the dance studio exceeds your time in Big Bend (including drive time to and from); when a good friend tells you that she dreamed about watching you two dance (and adds that, in her dream, she remembers thinking "well, they're not very good" [we assured her that was no dream]). We'll be ready to listen when you are able to admit that you actually bought a new pair of shoes just for dancing. You'll know you've arrived when the appearance of a newspaper ad for "social dresses" at Dillards strikes fear into your heart, and causes your wallet to shrink to a size that could be concealed in Emmitt Smith's DWTS partner's dance costumes.
Yeah, Jimmy, I applaud your romantic motivations -- even as I also understand the complicated calculus that you're trying to employ to compute a potential payoff -- but I hope you don't find that you might have been better off selling a couple of semi-important organs and buying your wife a nice gemstone. Because, frankly, at least that way you get to pick the organs.
Happy dancing, amigo!
Exactly. On all counts.
Posted by: Eric at February 7, 2007 08:43 AMI admire both you and Jimmy for putting on such a valiant game face while being "forced" I mean "urged" to go to dancing lessons.
Posted by: Wallace at February 7, 2007 10:55 AMBoxstep Boy
Heh. Both you guys deserve a lot of credit, if not actual sainthood. ;-)
Posted by: Gwynne at February 7, 2007 11:44 AMI knew a guy once. Real gentleman. Humble, gracious, had a heart the size of his home state. Used to write this blog.
What'd you do with him?
;-]
Posted by: Jim at February 7, 2007 12:47 PMRead the title of the post again.
Dante did a killer two-step. Didja know that?
Posted by: Eric at February 7, 2007 01:00 PMI would like to publically thank everyone for their warm wishes as I embark on this difficult endeavor. I will keep you all in my thoughts as you will no doubt be doing the same to me.
And please remember, the real reason I decided to do this is that all the hours I spend on the dance floor will actually be credited to any time I have to spend in purgatory upon death.
At the rate I'm going, at the end of the lessons, I hope to be able to go straight to, well, uhh, wherever.
As for the organs, I really have no more to spare. Mine are a little taxed. I am glad I was able to conjure up the spirits of your conmpleted time spent on the dance floor.
You have any used spats I could borrow?
Posted by: jimmy at February 7, 2007 01:08 PMLOL. You guys are both special guys - I applaud you both!
Posted by: Rachel at February 7, 2007 01:15 PMJimmy, I can assure you that you'll generate all the spats you can handle if your lovely wife decides that you're not leading the steps just right.
Rachel, Jimmy and I both married way over our heads. If this is what we have to do, this is what we'll do.
Posted by: Eric at February 7, 2007 01:34 PMSpats... aren't they shoes?
Posted by: jimmy at February 7, 2007 01:36 PMSee, it's getting to you already.
Next thing you know, you'll be at a Chaps game and think, "my, that's a big dance floor..."
Or you'll start daydreaming in church while the choir is singing, musing "would you foxtrot to that, or is it a waltz?"
I hope you fully understand the journey you've embarked upon.
Posted by: Eric at February 7, 2007 01:40 PMmy big toe has actually begun to wiggle in my sleep and i found myself critical of Prince's outfit the other night during the halftime show. i guess you'd be the first to tell me those are troubling signs, too?
Posted by: jimmy at February 7, 2007 01:46 PMFilm! Film!!!
Posted by: Janie at February 7, 2007 09:05 PMAt 11 my good woman, at 11.
Posted by: Jimmy at February 7, 2007 09:45 PMAbout the publisher
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Social Dresses?
Are these dresses that talk? Or help you make friends? Or ...something, well, social? Or do they just get along well with all the other clothes in your closet?
And what does it say about me that I don't know this?
Posted by: beth at February 7, 2007 08:38 AM