Shim Sham Shimmy

I just returned from tap dancing, the first of a ten evening class I enrolled in through Main Line School Night. For some reason, every time I tell someone I'm taking tap dancing, he or she starts laughing. The description of the course promised "Laughs guaranteed!" but somehow I don't think that was what the instructor had in mind. Instead, I think she was referring to the idea of a varied group of adults attempting to coax out their inner Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers on a high school stage. She certainly was true to her word as we shuffled and laughed our way through a great hour long workout.

Two little rants:

#1: Why is it that in every class everywhere on this planet, there is always one World's Leading Expert? Someone who (thinks she) knows everything about the class topic and makes sure everyone knows it within the first five minutes. Good grief, it's a beginner class lady!

#2: Why is it that in every class everywhere on this planet, there are always people that insist on making noise while the teacher is talking? I thought the beginning guitar class I had taken was the worst, but tap just might top it. Sigh.

But to balance it out, a big rave for the darling 80ish-year old Dapper Dan taking the class, with his tailored suit, slicked back hair and infectious energy, he's a real charmer!

In closing, I cannot allow the first day of autumn to pass by unnoticed, so in honor of the arrival of my favorite season, "Autumn Daybreak" by Edna St. Vincent Millay:

Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud

At dawn, a fortnight overdue,

Jostling the doors, and tearing through

My bedroom to rejoin the cloud,

I know--for I can hear the hiss

And scrape of leaves along the floor--

How may boughs, lashed bare by this,

Will rake the cluttered sky once more.

Tardy, and somewhat south of east,

The sun will rise at length, made known

More by the meagre light increased

Than by a disk in splendour shown;

When, having but to turn my head,

Through the stripped maple I shall see,

Bleak and remembered, patched with red,

The hill all summer hid from me.