Cool Tango Move Saves Baby

This story is to Brigitta Winkler’s credit. Glenlivet’s too. But mostly Brigitta's. If she hadn’t inspired Glenlivet to get tricky with his tango lead, there would be one banged-up baby today.

This story is also to Grisha’s and Nina’s credit. If they hadn’t persisted until my cool new hip action took its tentative hold, there would be one banged-up One Heart today.

It is to my credit, too. I am the Clark Kent of Tango!

Here is the story …

Some time ago Glenlivet advertised for a practice partner. I cautiously volunteered. Cautiously because I don’t like the idea of practice partners and I had sworn off my sole partner to date, The Man on the Wall.

Still, I wanted to dance well with Glenlivet, who had progressed much more quickly than I had in the year since we were beginners together. Also, I wanted to undergo the experience so I could write about it.

We agreed to meet before a Sunday evening milonga. We would practice a bit, then join the fun.

He didn’t show. The milonga began. I joined the fun.

Sometime later Glenlivet appeared. He apologized for arriving late, but he was not sorry. He was glowing.

Tell me!

I just had a lesson with Brigitta Winkler, he said. In an isolated corner of the enormous ballroom, he showed me his new way of dancing. In no time, I was glowing, too.

Glenlivet has never looked back. He has become utterly, fiendishly inventive. His lead says, “Let’s do this … no, oops, let’s turn that into this and how about this, too?”

The key to dancing with the new Glenlivet is to be poised on a dime. Don’t relax into thinking you know what’s coming next. At any moment you will shift-shift-shift weight, change direction, transition to a wholly new concept of the music, all on that one, tiny dime.

This is crazy good fun!

Fun, but not easy. I struggled for months until my cool new hip action kicked in and I found my balance.

One week ago today Grisha and I worked on ocho cortado and, yet again, hip action. At one point, it all came together. He said, “You have perfect balance.”

Later that night Glenlivet appeared at the practica after a long time away, and …

Whoo-hoo!

So it’s thanks to Grisha and Nina and Glenlivet and Brigitta and all that crazy good fun that today in the Denver airport, a little kid’s face got saved from an escalator’s shark teeth.

Mom had three bags, two kids. I waited while she got the first kid situated on the escalator, then herself. I didn’t notice the toddler until she turned around to help him on board. She was already four stairs down and he had decided to follow. Now he had one foot on the top landing, one foot on a step and was doing the splits, clawing for a handhold on the Plexiglas wall. As the escalator dragged him down, the foot on the landing lost its grip. Slowly he tipped forward, his face heading straight into the serrated edge of the stair between his legs.

I have long arms and I know how to snatch up a child. Now I had one foot on the landing, one on a descending stair. Now there were two stairs between me and the upper landing, now there were three. Now I was doing the splits. Now my suitcase and briefcase on the landing above began to teeter. Now the mother was reaching out.

Handing off baby, I used my cool new hip action to do a little rock step--shifted my weight to the foot on the landing, collected ever so slightly to land my left foot on the next step up even as it descended. Three or four quick rock steps and—voila!—both feet were back up on the landing, nicely collected, suitcase and briefcase upright, and me too.

Wow! Who knew tango could give you superhero powers? Somebody, get me a cape!

Why credit tango?

Despite the awkward, off-center, half-splits position, the quick grab came straight out of heightened, turn-on-a-dime awareness; the shift-shift-shift-rock-step maneuver was Brigitta-Glenlivet’s tricksy ocho cortado; and all was made possible by the hard-won technique of cool new hip action and the voiced blessing of Perfect Balance.