
Compléter Dancing through generationsVersion en ligne Read an article from the New York Times and fill in the gaps par Adriana Pérez Vieira 1 remember family sky floor slow marriage taught living hand friends me shoulder who movie teenager blonde dancing black midnight life I hobbies activities As the holiday break comes to a close , think about how you spent your time . Did you see a , attend a sports event , take a hike or enjoy other favorite ? Where , when and with whom did you first do those things ? What about now ? What role did members play in shaping the and pursuits that are today a big part of your ? In " Dancing Across the Generations , " Roy Hoffman writes about , a passion that was fostered by his parents and older sister . For as long as I can , we have danced . My parents began their romance at a dance in Mobile , Ala . , and raised me and my three older sisters in a home where the right song on a scratchy Victrola was enough to set off a two - step or rumba . It's the last night of 1986 , and the band at the Grand Hotel in Point Clear , Ala . , across the bay from Mobile , is playing " Fly Me to the Moon . " I'm 33 , and dancing with my mom . She is light in my arms , following , with patient ease , my clumsy foxtrot . Alongside us , as the clock winds toward , Dad sends my Nancy into a slow turn , bringing her back more smoothly than I ever could . We look out to Mobile Bay , a slender moon in the New Year's Eve . The night is chilly , but in here the dance band is cooking . A new tune begins ? a peppy " Bye , Bye , Blackbird " ? and my mother and I start in . I'm rusty , not sure of my steps , but eighth - grade cotillion training from 1967 is still in my blood . My mom guides me in an easy swing , leading me by deftly following . As she rocks back and I pull her close again she is beaming , exclaiming , " You've got it now . " Then my father is tapping me on the , cutting back in . Nancy and , in our second year of , begin a Cajun step we learned in New Orleans . I look at her , tall and , moving with ease , then over at my parents . In their seventies , their quick step turns back the hands of the clock . I see them not as cute , but stylish , the embodiment of charm . The dance burnishes their aura . They are gone now , but not their dancing . * * * It was my big sister Becky got me started when I was 6 , turning our room into " American Bandstand . " While Dick Clark introduced acts like Jerry Lee Lewis on the - and - white screen , she welcomed boyfriends who pulled up to our curb in freshly waxed Chevys , and girlfriends in saddle oxfords . On her record player in a zippered case , I can still see the 45 - r . p . m . recording of Elvis's " Hound Dog " spinning around . When one finished , another clattered onto the turntable . Becky me the jitterbug to " Be - Bop - a - Lula . " When heavenly Johnny Mathis crooned at her slumber parties I learned the dance , how the woman would lean her head on the shoulder of a man while maintaining a proper distance . As a first grader , I was the practice partner for her 16 - and 17 - year - old girlfriends . Then the big boys showed up to escort them to the Murphy High hop . ? In Mobile , when my daughter was a , we sent her to cotillion , but she and her chafed at what she calls " organized dancing . " The joy of moving as you wanted ? the tribal heat of youth , not the directives of ballroom ? was what was liberating , expressive . For me , though , it doesn't matter whether it's Sinatra or the Stones on my sound system at home in the Alabama woods , or a global beat at a Brooklyn bar . My parents' gracefulness still rises inside , and I take my wife's , feeling her pull , press and twirl as we start a slow swing .

Compléter

Dancing through generationsVersion en ligne

Read an article from the New York Times and fill in the gaps

par Adriana Pérez Vieira

remember family sky floor slow marriage taught living hand friends me shoulder who movie teenager blonde dancing black midnight life I hobbies activities

As the holiday break comes to a close , think about how you spent your time . Did you see a , attend a sports event , take a hike or enjoy other favorite ? Where , when and with whom did you first do those things ? What about now ? What role did members play in shaping the and pursuits that are today a big part of your ?

In " Dancing Across the Generations , " Roy Hoffman writes about , a passion that was fostered by his parents and older sister .

For as long as I can , we have danced . My parents began their romance at a dance in Mobile , Ala . , and raised me and my three older sisters in a home where the right song on a scratchy Victrola was enough to set off a two - step or rumba .

It's the last night of 1986 , and the band at the Grand Hotel in Point Clear , Ala . , across the bay from Mobile , is playing " Fly Me to the Moon . " I'm 33 , and dancing with my mom . She is light in my arms , following , with patient ease , my clumsy foxtrot . Alongside us , as the clock winds toward , Dad sends my Nancy into a slow turn , bringing her back more smoothly than I ever could .

We look out to Mobile Bay , a slender moon in the New Year's Eve . The night is chilly , but in here the dance band is cooking .

A new tune begins ? a peppy " Bye , Bye , Blackbird " ? and my mother and I start in . I'm rusty , not sure of my steps , but eighth - grade cotillion training from 1967 is still in my blood .

My mom guides me in an easy swing , leading me by deftly following . As she rocks back and I pull her close again she is beaming , exclaiming , " You've got it now . " Then my father is tapping me on the , cutting back in .

Nancy and , in our second year of , begin a Cajun step we learned in New Orleans . I look at her , tall and , moving with ease , then over at my parents . In their seventies , their quick step turns back the hands of the clock . I see them not as cute , but stylish , the embodiment of charm . The dance burnishes their aura .

They are gone now , but not their dancing .

* * *

It was my big sister Becky got me started when I was 6 , turning our room into " American Bandstand . " While Dick Clark introduced acts like Jerry Lee Lewis on the - and - white screen , she welcomed boyfriends who pulled up to our curb in freshly waxed Chevys , and girlfriends in saddle oxfords .

On her record player in a zippered case , I can still see the 45 - r . p . m . recording of Elvis's " Hound Dog " spinning around . When one finished , another clattered onto the turntable . Becky me the jitterbug to " Be - Bop - a - Lula . " When heavenly Johnny Mathis crooned at her slumber parties I learned the dance , how the woman would lean her head on the shoulder of a man while maintaining a proper distance . As a first grader , I was the practice partner for her 16 - and 17 - year - old girlfriends . Then the big boys showed up to escort them to the Murphy High hop .

? In Mobile , when my daughter was a , we sent her to cotillion , but she and her chafed at what she calls " organized dancing . " The joy of moving as you wanted ? the tribal heat of youth , not the directives of ballroom ? was what was liberating , expressive .

For me , though , it doesn't matter whether it's Sinatra or the Stones on my sound system at home in the Alabama woods , or a global beat at a Brooklyn bar . My parents' gracefulness still rises inside , and I take my wife's , feeling her pull , press and twirl as we start a slow swing .

Dancing through generations

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Dancing through generationsVersion en ligne

par Adriana Pérez Vieira

remember family sky floor slow marriage taught living hand friends me shoulder who movie teenager blonde dancing black midnight life I hobbies activities