The other day I took to learning salsa. First impressions? It’s HARD. I think it’s significantly more difficult than tango. It doesn’t help that the tempo is ridiculously fast, either. The main issue is that there’s a lot to pay attention to. With tango, everything is sort of connected. Your upper and lower body are always kind of doing one sort of unified motion, and your partner is literally attached to you and forced to do whatever you want her to do. With salsa, your feet and hands are much more disconnected, and so is your partner. It’s just a lot to keep in mind and I find myself getting distracted and losing the beat. Nevertheless, it’s a lot of fun. It’s such a fast paced dance that it ends up being a pretty good cardio workout too. There’s salsa nights at a local club around here on Saturdays, and I’m all about embarrassing myself so I’d like to check that out.
“So I wandered up on the balcony, and sat on a hard-backed chair there. It must have been something I used to do in the carriage house when I was genuinely innocent and twelve years old — to sit very still on the balcony, and to appreciate every sound that floated up to me. It wasn’t eavesdropping. It was music appreciation.
And thus it was that I overheard the final dissolution of my brother’s second marriage, and some unkind character sketches of Felix and myself and our parents and Genevieve, and some others I did not know. Genevieve came bursting into the apartment first, so angry that she was spitting like a cat, and then, half a minute later, Felix entered. She had come in one cab, and he had chased her in another. And down below me, and out of my line of sight, an acrimonious, atonal duet for viola and string bass was improvised. They both had such noble voices. She was the viola, and he was the bass.
Or maybe it was a comedy. Maybe it is amusing when physically attractive, well-to-do great apes in an urban setting hate each other so much.” – Vonnegut, “Deadeye Dick”