Back in the bad old days when I was a young, virile stud muffin - (Mad Jack waits for the cacophony of catcalls, derisive howls and jejune cries of cough:BullShit!:cough to die down) – as I was saying, back in the bad old days I taught ballroom dancing. Check out Dancing with the Stars or the Ohio Star Ball on PBS. That was me many years ago. I got out and found another line of work when I started getting old. I knew when to leave the party, you see.
Of course most of the ballroom dance professionals that I knew from back then have all retired, moved on or been put in jail for fraud. That's the other half of the ballroom dance business that you don't hear much about. Old ladies, lifetime courses, trials and lawsuits, bad payroll checks and egotistical prima donnas aspiring to become the next USBC American Style Ten Dance Champion. Few make it. Those that aren't prima donnas are busy grabbing all the money they can before departing for an extended vacation in Florida. Why Florida? Check the civil law. Basically any civil suite in any other State stops at the Florida border.
I reminisce about all this because the other day I was talking to Main Lady, who found an interesting flyer on her doorstep.
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| Down South Camp Meetin' |
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| Location of the Main Tent - Alfredo's Dance Studio |
You see, I used to know Alfredo. He was busy pushing old ladies around the floor at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio in Toledo (now closed) while I was working for a competitor. Al's a real charmer with a thick Spanish accent and an extroverted personality. He's married they say, his second wife being an ex-student. The first wife caught Al and the second wife practicing the horizontal bop in the back room at "Alfredo's Studio of Dance!" late one night and turned the whole session into the cat fight tango. Although the first wife didn't promise to drop him with a deer rifle, she refused to give him one more chance so Al married the other woman.
I always kind of wondered whatever happened to Alfredo. Now I know. Well, I guess there's always room for a good confidence man in a cult, which is what the Jehovah's Witnesses are (and if I've offended anyone rest assured it's intentional). The Witnesses took a hard run at my mother and ran into a solid wall – honesty. You see, in order to cheat or deceive someone, the target or 'mark' must have a little larceny in their own heart. Mom has none, and so could not be converted. Impressed with mom's estate and nice home, the Witnesses tried again, bringing out the first string this time. I ran them off, stopping short of a first hand look at the hereafter courtesy of Colonels Smith and Wesson. I am, after all, not stupid.
I can kind of see Alfredo in the role of minister, especially in a cult like the Witnesses. There's plenty of money floating around and as I remember it, Al tends to do well in front of a crowd. He's got the right ethics for it, I'll tell you that.
