I read an article about a woman who does ridiculous activities and reports the antics to her blog followers for entertainment purposes. It seems she has done everything from dogwalker to fish scaler, but this week she was an "inspirational dancer" at bar and botmitzvahs. WHOA THERE! Playtime is over. I DID that and it is no laughing matter. (smile)
Many often ask me about my past life as a dancer and how I got started. Well, once and for all, here is the TRUE story....
FONZO THE DANCER (not stripper)
Once upon a time in a galaxy, far, far away, there was a guy named Alfonso, well, FONZO, for short, who was a decent student but a better organizer, creator, worker, and risk taker. The time was 1993, ancient history. Internet, small personal cell phones, TWITTER, FACEBOOK, or MYSPACE weren't even in existence in everyday society yet. (How did he survive?)
Anyway, he was a country boy (lived in Columbia, SC for years) and fresh out of college. He had decided, on a whim, to move to Miami, FL. Why? Because he was having dreams about a place where tropical breezes blew, ocean water was blue-green and clear, and everyday was like a vacation.
Unfortunately, the reality of the situation was that he was young, with no corporate work experience, and struggling to get by. He found out quickly, that a degree means nothing if you can't pay the rent.
Through faith and diligence, he was able to make "something out of nothing" on a daily basis. This kept a roof over his head and food in his belly, but he always felt he needed more. For you see, in Miami, it's hard to see the glitz and glamour around you and not want to experience the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Yet, it always escaped him because due to his upbringing, crime was NEVER an option; he wasn't in the right circles to take advantage of the up and coming "dot com" boom, and he was never lucky enough to find that lost "bag full of money" on his many walks through the city streets and alleys.
One day, after years of struggle in the City of Style, he saw that his situation was beginning to take it's toll on him. His job was full of pressure, his hair was becoming gray, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his mood swings and temper were out of control. (At this time, there were no commercials for Prozac and Lithium) Basically, he began to show signs of stress and he felt like the there was no way out. He couldn't go forward and he had too much pride to go back.
He went to a local hang out on South Beach, one night, feeling depressed and dejected. He was broke, girlfriendless, and just plain miserable. He didn't even have any money to order anything, in fact, most of the time, he just drank water all night. All of a sudden, he heard a beat. Not just any beat. HOUSE MUSIC!
Now, stress has a way of keeping you down and can even have you doubt yourself and abilities. There was no one on the dance floor and wouldn't be for a while but he felt the urge to move. He never wanted to be the corny guy at the club who dances by himself while other people look and laugh, but don't worry, faithful readers, he wasn't. (smile)
I guess he felt like Popeye, the cartoon character and said, "That's all I can stands and I can't stands no more!" and he jumped out into "his future." All at once, years of frustration, anger, self-pity, etc melted away and he became "a dancer".
Dancing, soon, became a way of life, because he did it everyday without fail, for hours upon hours, literally. He would leave work at 5:00pm and head to the beach and dance until 5:00am almost non-stop, every weekend.
Now, it was weird to him that he did moves and routines without ANY formal training but it was even weirder that crowds actually liked them and decided to make him a "part of the Miami experience."
It just seemed to come naturally. If he could envision a move in his mind, his body would do it. Life was good, he was doing something that he loved and his health began to return to normal. The gray hair disappeared and he began to look younger, like "Benjamin Buttons".
He never did the "audition thing" but ended up obtaining 3 agents who saw him in the nightspots, liked his dance style, and booked him everywhere; from Prince's (yes, the Purple Rain/Little Red Corvette guy) GLAM SLAM club to high paying celebrity events to various business openings and functions. Dancers were a hot commodity "back in the day".
He counted himself "blessed" that he never fell into the drug and gigolo trap that many of his fellow dancers did. He guessed God really did protect the fools and the children. (smile)
He won't say that he was a complete angel, in fact, far from it, but he kept a clear head and stayed down to earth which is why he felt he survived 10 years of South Beach, Miami, FL.
In conclusion, this is some advice he wanted to give to all of the guys who happen to read this:
#1 - Learn to dance. Women love men who can dance and dance well.
#2 - If a lady agrees to dance with you, do NOT immediately start to bump and grind. This is quick way to lose her respect and any chances of future communication.
#3 - Don't think about anyone else while dancing. Let the music move you. Self-conciousness is a sure way to end up dancing like you can't. Just, relax and even if you can't, remember, it's just a dance, not a marriage proposal.
Read more:http://www.myspace.com/altodd/blog#ixzz15IR8G5BT
No comments:
Post a Comment