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Dancing through generations

Compléter

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

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Âge recommandé: 17 ans
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Adriana Pérez Vieira
Adriana Pérez Vieira
Spain

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Dancing through generations

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

Adriana Pérez Vieira
1

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

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 .

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