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EB ET mmm TT Pr I Tr DO YOU KIDS THINK YOUR PARENTS ARE MEAN? HA! Parents are nowhere near as mean today as they ~ were when I was growing up. If you kids don't agree with me, try this on for size. In the sixth grade, my parents made me go to Mrs. Payson's Dancing School. No kidding. About thirty boys and an equal number of girls attended this awful school on Saturday nights for about three months. It's hard to believe that parents could be capable of such cruelty, but there you have it.... and it was even worse than it at first appears. Many of the girls, prior to Mrs. Payson's Dance, would host exclusive small parties at which uncomfortable boys in wrinkled suits and awkward girls in bright dresses would eat little sandwiches and desserts. Of course the mother did all the work, hovering like a deranged buzzard over the proceedings, while in theory training their daughters for a future life of giving before-dance soirees. The daughters, as most women, were fated to marry know- nothing, good-for-nothing boorish men who would be an enormous embarrassment at a party, even should desperation cause them to construct an occasion to give one. My moment of glory occurred at Ann Fleischauer's party when I finally worked a loose tooth free and hawked the bloody stamp on my plate to the undisguised admiration - and pleasure of the boys at the party. I hope this gave Mrs. Fleischauer pause for thought as she planned Ann's future. At the hall where the dance was held, there was a little band with an accordion, and Mrs. Payson would strut about with some kind of clickers in her hand and instruct us in the two step, the waltz, the fox trot and rhumba. It must have sad to witness our inept shuffling, guys pretending to dance who would have felt more comfortable punching the girls on the arm or getting their admiration and attention by blowing our noses into our fingers. If Mrs. Payson had tried to teach us sexy dances like the lambada or the tango, she would surely have faced insurrection. She taught us nothing useful like the swim or the bird or whatever else was in vogue at the time either, though to be truthful I wouldn't have cared because, in the sixth grade, girls were strange and unattractive creatures to me. The boys perched on wooden chairs along the wall ES SRI RRS SER RST on one side of the eal onien, the en on de other rem When the band struck up a tune, every boy was compelled to ask a girl to dance. This was done by approaching them, bowing from the waist, and enquiring, "Would you care to dance?" No boy was permitted to sit out a dance. No girl was permitted to refuse an invitation. Think of it. The dumbest and weirdest guy could dance with the prettiest and most popular girl....if he could get there first. Mrs. Payson would not allow the boys to cross the dance floor in the centre. A boy must walk around the perimeter. It was deemed rude to run across the dance hall and she would nullify your dancing choice and force you to take whatever girl was left if she felt your approach had been indecorous. There was much jostling and jockeying for the prized end seats where access to the girls' side was quickest, because while none of us wanted to dance, we knew we would be compelled to do so and therefore sought out the least unfavourable gitls. The characteristics that would make a girl a favourable dancing partner would be girls: 1) who weren't a lot taller than us, 2) who wouldn't make fun of us, and 3) girls who weren't a lot smarter than us. These criteria eliminated most of the girls, thus the hard fighting for the end seats. It must have been agony for some of the girls, too. Tall, bespectacled, or smart girls were invariably last Continued on page 6 PAINTING 15 Years Experience Versatile & Reliable Free Estimates Lyle Cole Box 112, Milford, Ontario, KOK 2P0 Phone: (613) 476-8264 Cell: (613) 961-3845 Remember: "It's a small world - until you try to paint it!"