Back in November, in Not Exactly Lord of the Dance, I reported on some of my travails at attempting to learn a few line dancing routines. Since then, I have persisted and learned most of the routines that they do ... well, that they do routinely.
While I get up there and dance, however awkwardly, with the rest of them, there is a sense in which nothing has changed. I still learn differently than everybody else. While absolutely everybody else, and her sister, can pick up the routines on the fly, I get totally befuddled. I have to bring it home, drill the first set of steps, then drill the second and so on.
It's harder for me to pick it up and much easier for me to lose it too. In the simplest dances which I have done many times, I'll, every now and then, forget how a certain step sequence goes, and I'll lose all sense of rhythm and flow. Not that I have much to begin with, mind you.
But it's fun anyway, and it has all led here to this picture and the rest of the story.
Yes, I am in the process of obtaining cowboy boots. And they're not that easy to obtain in these parts. I am a running shoe type of guy, in part because I have bad feet and need to wear orthotics, but now I have an excuse to buy myself a pair of cowboy boots. How much fun is that for an old city slicker who was weaned on Roy Rogers, and The Lone Ranger, and Wild Bill Hiccock, and Hopalong Cassidy? (Okay, weaned is strong as we didn't have a television until I was about ten, but you get the idea.)
That leads me to the final part of this ramble. It has to do with the nature of small towns.
I found the boots in the picture above in a local but dusty, dilapidated and decrepit little store. When I couldn't make up my mind about which size fit best, they urged me to take them both home and give them a whirl. "Bring them back when you're done: no hurry." They wrote my name and phone number in a little spiral notebook. They didn't ask to see ID, didn't ask for a credit card number. None of that. "Well, you're not going to skip town for a pair of boots. Are you?"
Of course, I'm not.
How refreshing to be trusted like that!
I think there are lessons for me in this. What about you?