SOMETHING'S ALWAYS WRONG

When it comes to tango venues, we’ll almost never be 100% satisfied. Often, we’ll grumble that:

the floor’s too small (or too wide or too narrow), the floor’s too sticky, the floor’s too slippery, there are metal poles in the way, there are too many chairs around the dance space, there aren’t enough chairs around the dance space, it’s too hot, it’s too cold, it’s too dark, it’s too light, it's too crowded, too noisy, too quiet...

...you get the point.

There are generally two reactions to dealing with an unavoidable issue at a milonga. One is to whine, complain, and make ourselves look like a bunch of self-entitled asses. The other is to view the problem as an opportunity to improve our dancing.

I’m not suggesting that we go out of our way to look for bad venues or experiences. Sooner or later, they’ll find us. But without the challenge of imperfect circumstances, we won’t be able to perfect our dancing.

POWER HAS ITS PRICE

Many years ago, I was watching one of those National Geographic nature shows, and on that particular night they were focusing on this weird fish. I don't recall exactly what kind of fish it was, and the only part of the show that still sticks out in my mind was when they started talking about its behavior during mating season.

While trying to attract a mate, the narrator pointed out that the male fish would raise (or flap?) his fins. This would display a beautiful shade of red that ran along the entire length of his sides. I’m fuzzy as to whether the red was the fish's natural color or the result of bioluminescence. But the point is, the flashier and brighter the fish was, the better chance it had of finding a mate.

Let me stretch the analogy a little.
Being recognized as a good dancer (male or female) is something we all strive for, and it's a great feeling when we start to achieve it. We hear compliments, get more dances, and even gain some influence in our communities.

And then what happens?

Continuing on with the flashy fish story...

The narrator went on to mention that there was a serious downside to this fish’s behavior. The healthiest, most vibrant fish - the ones most likely to garner attention - were also the ones most likely to be spotted and picked off by hungry predators.

Now, I’m not saying that getting better at tango means we're more likely to be eaten. But think about what it takes to improve our tango. We joke about it being an "obsession," and we pretty much have to treat it like one if we're going to be serious about advancing. Therein lies the danger.

At this point your brain is thinking one step ahead, possibly coming to the logical conclusion that the adrenaline rush of being an admired dancer makes us vulnerable to symbolic predators, such as arrogance and an inflated sense of self-importance. I guess that’s true enough, as I’m sure we’ve seen it happen.

But I think there’s more.

We're often told that, in bad times, our true nature comes out and we show others who we really are. But in good times, and in this case, the moments of social "success" we achieve because of our tango "obsession," the same thing happens. Whether we get “eaten alive” or not doesn’t depend on a change in character. Instead, it has much more to do with who we’ve been, deep down...all along. Outside circumstances, whatever they may be, merely expose us.

Might be a good idea to keep one foot on the ground at all times.

DANCE FOR, NOT JUST WITH, YOUR PARTNER

Our dancing, if you use your imagination, is a little bit like running an ice cream shop. We can't dance the same way (offer just one flavor) with everyone. For every tanda, we have to get a sense for our partner’s skill and adapt to the way he/she moves.

Doing a bunch of ganchos and volcadas with someone you know is fine. But throwing those steps around with either a novice or stranger isn't going to feel so good. That's like going to the ice cream shop, ordering vanilla, and having the guy working there jump over the counter and cram a scooper-full of butter pecan down your throat because he thinks it’s a better choice.

Customize your dancing to every partner’s comfort level instead of doing the same set of steps with everyone. You're likely to be remembered for your level of consideration rather than your level of dance.

EVERYONE'S AS SCARED AS YOU

Why sit through annoying commercials and run the risk of hearing bands we can't stand when we can call up hundreds, or even thousands, of songs that we do like on our MP3 players? And why pay a monthly cable bill to have access to a bunch of shows we'd never want to watch, when the internet allows us to focus on the few programs that do interest us?

Hopefully, many of you reading this can probably relate. We're able to easily tailor and filter our interactions with the world to suit our individual interests. In many ways, that’s great. But we can’t go on living in our own bubbles forever, and it isn’t healthy to try.

Chicago Tango Week kicks off today (July 4), and big tango festivals elsewhere are also coming up. Strangers from all over the world will be meeting for the first time. Many of us will be going to big milongas where we’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people whom we never met before. For many of us, this'll bring back memories of the high school cafeteria.

And for less experienced dancers, it will be very tempting to want to stay close only to the circle of friends that they came with.

Don’t.

This is an opportunity to dance with people you’re never likely to see again. Break down a few social barriers and strike up a casual conversation with some people around you. It will feel a little scary to try (especially for someone like me), as we’re all hard-wired to fear social rejection.

But this fear often isn’t grounded in any sort of reality.

These strangers don’t have to end up being your BFF, of course. But if several hundred people can believe that there’s a high statistical probability that the individuals around them are friendly, or at least non-threatening, the festival atmosphere will be even more fun. Chances are you’ve invested a good amount of cash for the rare opportunity to take classes with world-class instructors. But there’s a lot we can do as attendees to help make the experience priceless.

A friendly ‘hello’ and a simple question (where are you visiting from?) is where it starts.

AVOID RHYTHMIC DIARRHEA

Sorry for sounding gross, but that’s the best I could do for the title of today’s topic. For leaders, learning new steps is definitely a blast, and it's totally understandable to want to run to the nearest práctica or milonga to try them out on someone. We've noticed people, sometimes even our own friends, getting carried away. They become totally wrapped up in what they’re doing, throwing in every advanced figure they can think of (or learned on Youtube) while the follower rolls her eyes and/or struggles to avoid getting kicked in the face. It's a little embarrassing to watch, and perhaps we've been guilty of doing this ourselves on a few occasions. Rhythmic diarrhea. We’ve all seen it, but maybe didn’t use those exact words to describe it.
"But I don't want my partner to get bored," is the usual justification (or excuse) for having it.

Okay, fine.

So let’s equate dancing with someone to having a conversation, which is a common but useful analogy. Now imagine that someone cornering you in an elevator, and then proceeding to talk not with you, but at you, about some subject. For the sake of argument, let’s assume this person is going on about a topic that probably doesn’t interest you, like his extensive collection of rare garden slugs and mold spores that live under his mother's front porch. Oh, and this person happens to be a close-talker.

After a little while, you try to make it clear via body language that you’re not interested in hearing more. But that doesn’t help. You try to get a word in edgewise so you can politely end the conversation, but you can’t. You keep getting cut off because he keeps blabbing, and then you wonder if he’s ever going to stop.

The elevator arrives at your floor and you try to move past him. But amazingly, he blocks your path because he still wants to talk. When you finally get a chance to ask why he’s still flapping his lip, his answer is that he’s afraid that you’ll be "bored" unless he fills every millisecond of silence.

Whether it’s in conversation or dance, those who try way too hard to be exciting or interesting never end up being those things (at least not in the way that they think). Effective leaders in tango don’t have to be the most experienced, dynamic, or talented dancers in the room. For the entire tanda, they can be doing something as simple as walking.

But if they’re leading clearly, moving to the song's rhythm, and paying attention to the follower's comfort level, they’ll be anything but boring.

TEAMWORK WITHOUT BACKUP

Isn’t it strange how your job, and probably every other job you’ve had, always entails doing more (sometimes much more) than what the actual description specifies? We all have our reasons for taking on the extra challenge, and a common one is having to be on guard in case a co-worker screws up, right?

In tango, we learn our roles as leaders and followers. With the intention of being good partners, we naturally take the same work ethic that makes us effective employees from the office to the dance floor. We want to overachieve and believe that it's right to go beyond our "job descriptions," to prove ourselves and to show that we care.

But that's where trouble happens.

If your dance partner messes up, you can’t "fill in" to do the other person's job while still doing your own. And if you insist on it, even with the best of intentions, you’ll likely be mistaken as a control freak who’s not very fun to dance with. The most you can do is make things easier for the other person and maybe cover up a few mistakes. But beyond that, there’s no fail-safe or backup.

While dancing tango, giving up half the control while blindly giving your partner all the trust is one of the most difficult things to do. But at the same time, it's one of the few areas in life where it's the best thing to do.

So give it a try. There’s no describing the feeling when it works.