high-bar baking

I’ve written about these cookies so many times that I’m taking the liberty of not actually writing about them. Alison’s shortbreads, “the cookie,” go make it, they’re good. 

Now…. Back to my hunch!

Not actually. Just keeping you on your toes. A little light John Mulaney. 

Today I’m just going to tell you why I love line dancing. I’ll start with the line I’ve quoted before, Eric Church’s, “It’s about doing it for nothing / ’cause it lives in your soul.” It does live in my soul.

Then there’s the dumb thing (sorry, skiers) that people say when you ask them why they love skiing. To a man, they tell you that they like going fast. As I do not like skiing, I cannot relate to this sentiment. 

The more universal human truth, though, is that we are earthbound creatures. Who have only ever wanted to fly. Swimmers, skiers, pilots (duh), pole-vaulters say it. There are certain things we do to escape gravity’s net, and dancing is the one that lives in me. On a good night, during a good song, for just a moment. I feel like I can fly. 

I don’t even know how it’s possible, some of the moves. It doesn’t feel like I should be able to baby Charleston into a double heel raise twist — where does my weight go? 

And then there’s the mental side of the fun. There’s an expression that football people use, about sophomore quarterbacks. Ones who played as freshmen, maybe started, but have improved in their second year. They say, “The game’s slowed down for him.” The game hasn’t slowed down, of course. He’s just learned to process faster. Read coverages, work through his progressions, make decisions. Make plays. When it clicks, the game feels like it’s slowed down. 

Every dance is a fresh start. I have a vocabulary now, but nothing saves me from having to learn each set of steps like it’s my first time. And then after a while, maybe next week, maybe weeks after that, I’ll get it. Really get it.

I’m addicted to the feeling of the game slowing down. I get to put in quarters over and over again.