Ahh, Youth

Yesterday I went to get my hair cut since I am heading to Michigan tomorrow for work and a visit with the familia. I was greeted at the salon by a new hairstylist, Nick. Cute as a button and barely past his teens, Nick said that he was available to cut my hair since my regular stylist wasn't available.

As we began talking, I asked Nick how long he had been at the salon. He said that he was there for about a year, but took about 6 months off to travel. I laughed and told him that he was too young to be taking a sabbatical already. He stared at me as he had no idea what a sabbatical was. I explained it to him and then inquired, "So, six months. That's a lot of time. Where did you travel?" I knew a whole slew of fabulous places was likely to follow. Having done some traveling myself, I always find others' adventures and travel stories fascinating. "So where did you go?"

His answer: "New Jersey and Queens."

It Must Be Monday

Ever have one of those days when everybody passing you on the street is looking at you, and you begin realizing you've still "got it" and start strutting around like you're hot stuff? Then you get home and realize people were actually staring at you because you left your fly open.

Things That Make You Go "Hmmm"

Today, at the very moment I opened the door to my physical therapist's office, the Weather Girls were on the sound system, and the song was right at the point where they sing "It's raining men..." I have made some grand entrances before, but this couldn't have been timed more perfectly. The whole office team, some clients sitting in the waiting room, and I began laughing. It's good to smile before someone twists you in a pretzel for the sake of making you feel better.

I Had My First White Lady!

No, it's not some crude and race-based reference to a recent sexual conquest. It's a cocktail made by mixing gin, cointreau, lemon juice, and egg whites, and we made them over the Labor Day weekend! All I can say is "pucker up" because this baby packs a sour punch to the taste buds, but is still quite tasty...and potent! If I knew white ladies were this good, I would have tried them much sooner. (Yes, still talking about the cocktail.)

Have a Great Weekend!

I love you all, but I've got to get me some beach time while I can. I'm heading to the Jersey Shore tonight and will be back on Tuesday. Hope everyone has a great Labor Day weekend!

Billy Elliot or Midlife Crisis?...You Decide

I have always secretly wanted to study dance. I ventured to take some dance classes during high school in the small, rural farming community where I grew up, but I felt I had to do so under the cover of night and while wearing huge sunglasses and a wig (okay, so maybe I actually enjoyed this part). The secrecy and the cost of taking private lessons finally caused me to end my dancing career before it ever began. (Insert moans of compassion here)

I tried again in college, where I perceived minds to be a bit more accepting, but ended up in a jazz class that was taught by a professional tuba player. That's right, you heard me. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. The regular jazz teacher was out on disability, so they hired a substitute who "liked to dance" but was more focused on her tuba career. In all fairness, she did have a background in dance. There I was, one of only two guys in the class (the other guy insisted on wearing a full-body unitard through the whole course even though the teacher kept insisting this was not really appropriate jazz attire). The class wasn't that fun and not taught very well. I again decided I wasn't going to go any further.

Well, fast forward about 20+ years and countless seasons of Dancing With the Stars and So You Think You Can Dance and here I am, starting my fourth month of study at the Joffrey Ballet School here in NYC. That's right, I threw caution to the wind, grabbed my dance belt and headed off to dance class once again. It's been quite exhilarating and has revived the old feelings of how much I love dance. I'm still one of only a few men in the class, but I really don't care. I'm just enjoying myself. And there has only been one major mix up where, at the end of my first class, the teacher instructed us to curtsey to the piano player. Being the obedient and over-eager student although feeling a little strange, I assumed the pose. That's when the teacher started yelling, "Not the men! Not the men!" It was a damn good curtsey though, I must admit.

So where's the smash-hit movie and musical about MY life?