Even though I've been back for awhile, it's taken some time to get back to blogging. It seems like so much has happened both in the world and on the home front that I've been feeling overwhelmed. I even stopped reading my favourite blogs and forums. I forgot how blogging can be therapeutic at times like this.

So here are some odds 'n sods that have been on my mind lately.

I seldom post anything political on this blog, but came across the following video on Tamarika's blog, Mining Nuggets. It's a piece by Keith Olberman talking about Sarah Palin and pretty accurately encapsulates my thoughts and feelings about the Governor of Alaska:




I've been following both the Canadian and American election campaigns.

The Canadian election was called on September 7th and, thankfully, we get to vote next week on October 14th. We've had to put up with just over a month of political campaign rhetoric and we're already talking about voter fatigue.

Yet, I wonder if it's so much about voter fatigue due to the Canadian election as it is about having had to endure the seemingly never-ending U.S. election campaigns - from party politics to primaries to party conventions (and why do they have conventions anyway when the nominee has already been chosen?) to VP nominations to Presidential debates to VP debates, ad infinitum. How can the American public stand it?

Canadians really can't avoid any of it. We're constantly inundated by the media telling us about the latest Dem v. Rep polls, the mud-slinging, Sarah Palin's latest gaffs, McCain's age, Obama's supposed links to terrorists (thanks to Palin), etc. And to be truthful, even though we can't vote in the U.S., the choice Americans make at the polls affects us greatly. And so we watch and listen. With bated breath - long after we've voted and know the results in Canada - we await the U.S. outcome in November.

A few weeks prior to the free-fall that's overtaken the world economy, George Dubya said, "The fundamentals of our economy are strong. ... Job creation is strong. Real after-tax wages are on the rise. Inflation is low." I laughed then, thinking, what universe is he living in? I'm closer to crying now. Being self-employed, dh and I don't have company pensions or benefit packages. We must rely on our investments and self-contributed retirement savings plans that are, by and large, dictated by world stock markets. And we all know how well those are doing. At this rate, if we "ride it out" as the pundits say, retirement is fading further into the horizon, or on the bright side, looming - oh - another ten years away?

With all the doom and gloom, it's good to have Joy at Babble On around to discuss Dancing With The Stars and feed my addiction to all things dance-y. I've also started watching the first season of So You Think You Can Dance Canada. Tonight is the first performance show for the top 20. I'm looking forward to it.

Confessions of a dance junkie

I love watching So You Think You Can Dance. There. I've admitted it. I not only love watching it, I think I'm more than a tad addicted.

These past few weeks, I've planned my Wednesday and Thursday evenings around the airing of both the performance and results show. Not only do I watch the original broadcast, but I watch the numerous re-runs throughout the week. If that weren't enough, I go onto YouTube and search for videos of my favourite performances. Once I find them, I replay them over and over.

It's all rather pathetic, I know.

I've been watching So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD to the diehards) since the first season (it is now season four).

In past seasons, during the early rounds, I enjoyed watching the dancers adapting to different styles and choreographers; seeing who improved; who didn't. It would usually take me awhile to decide on any real favourites . However, this year, I picked out Katee Shean and Joshua Allen as my favourites from the first Top 20 show.

There are other very good dancers on the show, but what sets Katee and Joshua apart, for me (as Nigel would say), is their total commitment and passion to each and every piece of choreography they are given. They have this fearlessness and ferocity that the others don't quite have. That's not to say they have no fears -- because they do express trepidation of new pieces in their pre-dance interviews – but they seem able to put those fears aside and perform each new piece in a way that is thrilling to watch.

Well, I've gushed on long enough.

Here are a few of their dances:

Their first performance together – Top 20 (hip hop)


Top 14 performance (contemporary)


Top 12 performance (Bollywood)



The couples are split up when they get to the Top 10 (next week), so it will be interesting to see how they look with other partners.

I wanna dance

For our recent vacation, my husband and I took a cruise. You can do as little or as much as you like and it's one of the most relaxing types of vacations I've been on - a great place for a people-watcher like me. I love dancing and watching others dance – all forms of dance - ballet, jazz, ballroom, it doesn’t matter. As long as there’s music and movement, I’ll watch. So while on this vacation, I mostly watched the sixty-plus crowd dance. Why this age group? Because they can really dance.

Almost every night and on every special occasion, they’d be the first on the dance floor. They did it all: foxtrot, cha-cha, rumba, salsa, waltz, jive. They did it with verve, enthusiasm and energy – especially the jive. I was in awe. All these grey-haired seniors dancing and boogying as if they were still in high school. Then it occurred to me – they’re probably the last generation who really learned “how” to dance as a matter of course when they were young.

I grew up in the fifties and sixties. The music of the times ranged from Patti Page, the Mills Brothers and Doris Day to the beginnings of rock ‘n roll with Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper and Elvis, then The Everly Brothers and Roy Orbison, eventually segueing into The Beachboys, Beatles, and the psychedelia of love ‘n peace and hippies. Other than the early rock ‘n roll years, the music of my youth was not very conducive to couples or touch dancing.

Admittedly, the fifties music I listened to was a result of living with much older teen cousins. They had frequent rumpus room parties and after school get-togethers listening to 45s. It was during the parties (where I lurked behind doors and around corners, well past my bedtime) that I’d marvel at the crinolines, ponytails and couples jiving. They slow-danced, too, but I thought it was pretty yucky at the time. It was the jive I loved. One of my cousins even tried to teach me. It didn’t stick.

At about the same time, I started watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies. I loved them. I was a sucker for the romance, the tentative meeting, the falling in love, the “I’m-mad-at-you, never-see-you-again” misunderstanding and the eventual reconciliation by way of a glorious dance number. No Gene Kelly for me. No sir. He always danced by himself except for those Cyd Charisse-type numbers from American in Paris. Too tough and athletic, not at all romantic. I wanted to dance like Fred and Ginger. I imagined myself as Ginger - floating feathers and trailing sequins in my wake.

By the time my own teen years arrived, it was the sixties and the jive had given way to everyone for themselves, no-touch, freeform dancing. There were no “steps” to speak of, just a self-involved flailing of limbs and a movin’ to the groove style of dance.

At school, we had so-called dance lessons in gym class to learn the waltz, foxtrot and square dancing. I suppose the teachers thought it would be good for our social development. But for the life of me, I still can’t figure out why they taught square dancing (when was the last time you did a “dosey doh” or “swing your partner” at a wedding or party?). Maybe they were caught in a time warp of their grandparents’ barn dances and hoedowns.

For my part, I thought it would be cool to learn ballroom dancing (visions of F & G still beckoned). But I was in the minority. At that age, few were interested. It was more of an embarrassment and ordeal to endure. For the girls, the main objective was not to get stuck with a truly obnoxious, sweaty-handed, smelly boy who had to count under his breath in order to keep time. I’m sure the boys had other objectives. Did anyone learn to dance? No.

By the time university rolled around, I had reconciled myself to a life of non-ballroom dancing. Then, along came Sam. He could really dance! He knew how to do a proper waltz, cha-cha and jive. He was patient enough to teach me. Alas, our relationship didn’t last (though in retrospect, I probably stayed with him longer than I might have if he couldn’t dance) and I never dated another guy who could dance as well as Sam.

Fast-forward to my current husband. He dances – sort of – in the late sixties, shuffle your feet in time to music kind of style. He tries, really, he does. He even went to ballroom dance classes at the community centre with me – twice. But like the jive of my childhood, it didn’t take. He’s promised to take private dance lessons with me after he retires. He figures all he needs is some individual attention. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, I live my dance fantasies vicariously by watching others. On the formal nights of our cruise, if I squinted hard enough, the grey-haired gentlemen with their lovely wives could pass for Fred and Ginger. Really.