what do you do if you cannot run?
it's a lot like learning to be left-handed.
in this case I cannot go out and ask the nearest left-handed person how they would do such a
thing because no two people dance alike.
What I am doing instead is well, first I wait until nobody is looking, then I get a good dancing
song on my ipod (which is well worth the money I paid for it)and then I stand out on our patio
and dance a little bit; then I stop and try to get my right leg to do what my left leg has been
doing for a long time.
or thinks it has been doing. maybe it misses dancing so much it thinks it was a star because it
dreamed of this once.
i have learned a thing oe two so far: the legs demand a sacrifice!
no, waitaminute, that's someone else. The legs demand that my hands switch also.
I can do this.
t'other week I was in the city. I traveled around and came upon a wonderful couple dancing
their asses off right by a nifty back window that was open perhaps for that very purpose. I
went around, counting doorways and constructuction materials, and came to a place I'd
dismissed earlier that night as wine-and-cheese-and-they-don't-want-me.
It was still wine-and-cheese, and I may always regret not sticking around long enough to find
out who the band were. Woe!
I scarpered. went back around where the cool people were, and I watched them dance.
eventually I noticed that the woman was missing a footy.
I said "Oh my goodness, you're missing a footy!"
She asked her man, smiling and sweating during a pause in the dance,
"what did she say?"
He beamed into her lovely face and said "She said you're missing
a footy"
She turned to me and rolled her eyes just a little and said "yeah, that's what the wheelchair's
for"
Oh.
here's the math:
if I cannot run, I'm gonna wanna die: I may not do so: please don't ask me why but it
just isn't allowed right now.
pppttthhhpt. hmph. well, shit.
-If she can do it, I can do it too.
Dancing lessons. i figure her for about 120 soaking wet; I'm a good bit bigger so I'll need to
carry myself most of the time.
if I do this properly, I can kiss my own hands, dropping tears and waving truly frightening
teeth of gratitude.
fuck that, I can do that anyway...
...see what I mean?
in this case I cannot go out and ask the nearest left-handed person how they would do such a
thing because no two people dance alike.
What I am doing instead is well, first I wait until nobody is looking, then I get a good dancing
song on my ipod (which is well worth the money I paid for it)and then I stand out on our patio
and dance a little bit; then I stop and try to get my right leg to do what my left leg has been
doing for a long time.
or thinks it has been doing. maybe it misses dancing so much it thinks it was a star because it
dreamed of this once.
i have learned a thing oe two so far: the legs demand a sacrifice!
no, waitaminute, that's someone else. The legs demand that my hands switch also.
I can do this.
t'other week I was in the city. I traveled around and came upon a wonderful couple dancing
their asses off right by a nifty back window that was open perhaps for that very purpose. I
went around, counting doorways and constructuction materials, and came to a place I'd
dismissed earlier that night as wine-and-cheese-and-they-don't-want-me.
It was still wine-and-cheese, and I may always regret not sticking around long enough to find
out who the band were. Woe!
I scarpered. went back around where the cool people were, and I watched them dance.
eventually I noticed that the woman was missing a footy.
I said "Oh my goodness, you're missing a footy!"
She asked her man, smiling and sweating during a pause in the dance,
"what did she say?"
He beamed into her lovely face and said "She said you're missing
a footy"
She turned to me and rolled her eyes just a little and said "yeah, that's what the wheelchair's
for"
Oh.
here's the math:
if I cannot run, I'm gonna wanna die: I may not do so: please don't ask me why but it
just isn't allowed right now.
pppttthhhpt. hmph. well, shit.
-If she can do it, I can do it too.
Dancing lessons. i figure her for about 120 soaking wet; I'm a good bit bigger so I'll need to
carry myself most of the time.
if I do this properly, I can kiss my own hands, dropping tears and waving truly frightening
teeth of gratitude.
fuck that, I can do that anyway...
...see what I mean?