Saturday, January 14, 2006

Dancing in My Trusty Smalltown Boots

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.



The pair on the left fits best and has flames coming off the heels. Pretty funny, eh?


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?


 

17 comments:

Dale said...

No great surprise there, AC. I can guarantee you wouldn't flee too far in a pair of those. These boots are NOT made for walking, believe me.
But it does feel good to be trusted, doesn't it?

tom said...

dang..I need to move there...like you, thick rubber bottoms are my shoe of choice, although I will someday own some boots.. except my right ankle is so much bigger from osteoarthritis that I will have to buy two pair, one 10 1/2 and one 11, so I can get the right one on..maybe I need to come to your store there... would they let me buy one boot at time?

Heather said...

That is TOTALLY cool! Both the fact that you're getting cowboy boots AND the fact that there are still small town values out there. Sometimes I miss those small town values.

Have you seen the movie Brokeback Mountain? I think you should hitch on those boots, slip into a cowboy hat, and go see the movie! :-)

Simply Coll said...

Funny how trust begets trust. Very encouraging to hear that this still happens.

If you are looking for a comfortable cowboy boot.. I recommend Ropers. This is what I wear when I ride and the comfort level is similar to a running shoe except you have a nice heel. :-).
I wear the laced up ones.. but they come in other styles also.

Gina said...

If the boot doesn't fit....

Sorry, AC, I've got nothing.

Chelsea said...

I love the fact that you're embracing what scared you so very much. Feels good, huh?

PBS said...

Nice boots! Good to be trusted, too.

madcapmum said...

Obviously they've only had good folk in looking at their boots, and that says something about society in general, too. Or maybe they were struck by honest mug and just KNEW in the depths of their souls that you were A Man of Integrity.

Now, there's no way I could get my feet and my orthotics into a pair of c'boy boots, and I'm jealous.

Norma said...

You're going to cut a fine figure on the dance floor in those boots.

Bonita said...

I rarely see cowboy boots, but when I do they stop me in my tracks. They are a true icon of the West.

Dee said...

I am no expert on cowboy boots but my fil always wore them. He did not consider himself dressed up without them. This is where he got some of his boots and my husband has bought some hats from http://www.sheplers.com/home.cfm?source=google_sheplers_content_terms

annie said...

I remember when I was little and I kept begging my parent's to buy me a pair of cow-boy girl boots. I didn't know they could be called cow-girl boots. When I finally did get them I loved them to death! :) That is really great how they trusted you with the boots! I wish that we all could be able to trust eachother and always be honest.

Turtle Guy said...

Are we kindred spirits? Much of what you've written here I relate to in a BIG way! Firstly with the dancing... oddly, because I DJ for a living, I don't dance... all that well anyway. And much like you, my learning style is such that I pick up slowly and lose quickly any new procedure or technique. On the plus side, once i "get it" I have it for life, there's no looking back.

Orthotics... I, too, wear them and they're great! I haven't come upon any situation where they have posed a problem. I was told that running would be more difficult, however I don't run athletically - perhaps to catch a bus or something...

As for trusting you with the boots, I should share a story with you from back in December. It's posted at http://turtleguy70.blogspot.com/2005/12/trust.html

Hope you're well!

Darlene said...

Good for you, with the dancing. Keep persevering! Sometimes they say that if you try to concentrate less on what your feet are doing and lend yourself more to the music, it helps. (Not for me, though, but you still should try it.) And don't worry, if you're with good people, the goof ups will make it more fun.

I live in St. Paul, definitely a large city, but we still have some people with that small-town trust. How I love it; one gas station comes to mind. Even in the major supermarket where I shop, I've befriended so many people who work there, that I've gained their trust. Yet it's amazing that this was your first time in the shop and they extended their trust to you. Does the soul good.

Judy said...

I could not dance to save me life.

I hate to wear shoes of any kind, and even though I live in west Michigan, I do not own a pair of boots at all.

I admire your resolve!

My own trouble seems to stem from the fact that it is a rather long distance from my head to my feet, and some how, the message just doesn't get through.

Although, that might not be it, as it isn't too long of a distance between my head and my tongue...

Must go rethink all of this...

Linda said...

I remember as a kid going to "Becket's Red & White" grocery store for my mom. All I had to do was say "charge it" to the clerk and she would write the amount of my purchase in a small spiral bound notebook. I felt VERY important.

Karla said...

Those are some sexy boots! Don't you just love that small town mentality. Back home, in penetang, I get a kick out of the fact that you always meet someone you know at the grocery store. My parents and Mark's parents learn about what's is going on in our lives through our mother's hairdresser (same woman), and you can actually pay someone to do a side job under the table and not feel the least bit weary of getting ripped off. My cautious, untrustworthy, dot every "i" and cross every "t" mentality from living in a more urban area seems very weird and cold to my folks. Heck, my mom was buying all her Christmas booze and had no cash on her so the liquor store clerk paid for it out of HIS pocket while my mom ran to a bank to get the cash.

Ok...that was long and probably totally boring. Gotta love small towns (and sexy boots) eh?