<!– @page { size: 8.5in 11in; margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08inI don’t think it’s a big secret that I love to get out and enjoy a fabulous polka experience as often as I can. Just something about that accordion music that puts a smile on my face and causes an irresistible urge within in me to skip and slide and bounce while moving backwards…what more could one ask for in life?

I went to one of the local bars-turned-dance-hall-for-the-evening recently, to take in one of my favorite bands. A few of my friends happen to have been sitting in and playing so all the more reason to listen and enjoy. I’ve found, as I’ve gotten to know a some polka band members, that each and every one of them has the habit of not taking themselves too seriously and a sense of humor is an absolute must. I’d say my friends in the band fit that bill to a tee and just watching them sing and play was entertainment worth the cover charge for me.

I’ve found that it takes about an hour at one of these smaller venues, for folks to eat their meals and have a couple of sips before they stand up and begin to pair off and hit the floor. A favorite past time of mine has been to watch them, once they do. I’ve always been envious of those friends and couples that could hop in there and make it all look so easy. I think about how some of them have been dancing with one another for 40 or 50 or even 60 years. The gentleman’s hand in that familiar place on his wife’s back, above her waist, just below her shoulder blades. Their right and left hands clasped in the same gentle way as they have for decades, the woman’s left hand reaching up to her husband’s right shoulder and both looking off to the side without a need to communicate with their eyes nor voice. The music begins and they start off on the correct foot every time and dive seamlessly, perfectly into their dance, with no more effort than they put forth to breathe. Some have stoic faces with no expression; not matching their feet that are telling a whole different, happy-go-lucky story. Some always dance cheek to cheek and glide along together around the dance floor as one unit. There are women dancing together: maybe best friends, maybe mother and daughter, and that’s okay too because finding a man willing to trade the farming discussion at the table for a dance, isn’t always easy and should never prevent a girl from doing what she came their to do. Some, my favorite to watch, kick up their heels and laugh and twirl and chat through the entire song, unaware that the rest of us exist.

Back in the Spring I put an invitation out to some of my close friends to join me at Starlight for some dancing. I had an ulterior motive….I was desperate for someone to take the time and patience to teach me how to elevate my current self esteem on the dance floor so I can convert this observation-type past time to one of participation and put an end to my wallflower days for good. I wasn’t able to convince too many of my friends to join me but my Uncle Leonard, Aunt Kathy, brother Jason, and sister-in-law Juanita took on the challenge of “Educating Robin” on the ebb and flow of the fine art of the polka dance and others. My friend Jill was also there for moral support and some laughs, only a few of which were at my expense. Leonard and I spent a few hours out there on the floor and I learned so much more than how to polka. Here’s some of his lessons that can definitely be applied on a grander scale:

Lesson #1: Never look at your feet. Of course, that’s obvious right? Yeah, yeah, it’s a bad habit; Mr. Watson taught most of us that one in Jr. High…remember? Seriously, if you are always looking down, trying to anticipate your next move, you might miss the surprises that are right under your nose and can take you in a more enjoyable, unplanned direction.

Lesson #2: Relax Robin; it’s supposed to be fun and no one is judging you. That’s a tough one for me, I tend to have performance anxiety and am generally wound a bit tight due to the day-to-day stresses that, for the most part, don’t really matter to anyone but me. As the lessons went on and the night progressed; I learned that Leonard was right, life is much more fun if you force yourself to relax and just let it happen. Did I say “life”? I meant “dancing”.

Lesson #3: If you screw up, don’t put too much emphasis on it, correct yourself and keep on moving. You are the only one who will have noticed most of the time. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Lesson #4: Experience multiple partners….Ha! Okay, so I don’t recommend we all apply that one, literally “on a grander scale” but it made me giggle when he first told me that….how much more amusing life is due to the immaturity of my simple mind. The point is: there’s more than one way to skin a cat, or interpret a dance, or fix a car or whatever. If you only dance with one person; it limits your playing field as well as your ability to adapt. Every dancer brings to the floor, their own pace, stride, rhythm, and experience; it’s all there for your taking if you are willing to branch out and give them a try. I think it’s important to take it slow, learn a person’s rhythm, pay attention to how they think and gain a respect for it. You’ll find that this time spent makes it easier to understand where the other person is coming from and how they interpret “the dance”. That way, one is not overpowering the other and both can benefit.

Lesson #5: Never give up. The only way to learn is to practice and anyone can do it. This one, surprisingly, even applied to me. I never thought I could learn…but I did once I gave it a try.

Lesson #6: When you bump into someone….apologize.

Lesson #7: “Smile Robin; always smile.” I’ve gotten the most mileage from this one, and didn’t realize how often throughout my day, I had to tell myself to do it. It sure changes how people receive and perceive you. I love it when someone says to me: “What are you so happy about?” Even on a bad day.

Lesson #8: If you need a break, take one. You can always begin again where you left off and the music won’t stop playing if you sit one out.

Lesson #9: Be generous. Someone may suggest a step you’ve never tried before and you may risk looking uncoordinated or foolish; put yourself out there anyway. A “comfort zone” is for the complacent, unadventurous, and those that are finished with new experiences in life. Be generous and who knows what you may learn.

Lesson #10: Always, always, always be grateful and thankful to your band. They provided the canvas for your art, the rhythm for your heart, the joyful noise that moved your body and your feet for a few hours and they usually are doing it for little more than their love of the music. So they deserve a hand, an appreciative word, and a free beverage never hurts either.

I was moved to share this with everyone because I’m assuming we have all learned these lessons and can all relate to a few, if not all of them, to some degree. If you are one of the wallflowers that hasn’t; I encourage you to get out there and attend one of the local performances at one of our local establishments. You’re friends are all there; some you know and the ones you have yet to meet. We will all be glad to see you and look forward to sharing these lessons with someone new.