Sunday, February 19, 2006

Judge Judy, Judge Rheinholt, Bud Cort . . .

Oh my God, I laughed out loud as Micheal's droll description of the mock trial sequence on Arrested Development played itself out. And even as I watched, I couldn't help but think about the terrible judge's dilemma developing on Dancing With The Stars. What the hell are they going to do when Jerry Rice wins the competition because he receives the most popular votes? Each week the judges have scored him lower, and each week the voters have placed him higher. It's tough enough that both Drew Lachey and Stacey Kiebler are very equal but with Jerry in the mix the show's really liable to end up even worse than last time.

Meanwhile, I really feel that the show itself has matured well beyond expectations. The Barry Manilow version of Unchained Melody with the slow motion montage of the competitors dancing in the background made me feel as though the screen was in fact dancing with me. And the developing dialogue between the dancers and the judges is absolutely educational to any dancer wanna be. Something you rarely get in real competitions is a direct conversation with the judges. You may get their scores sans comments but never get to explain what you and your choreography were about. So Jerry with his broom sequence and George with his Zorro mask, and Stacey with her angry countenance are all quite useful to a dancer watching the show in order to learn. And I like it that the pros are starting to talk back too.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Things get worse . . .

I have begun to limit my dancing time. I think I'm hoping somehow to avoid the past. When my shoulder began to ache year around, I had to give up beach volleyball. Before that, when my knees were so sore that I couldn't land from a jump or walk up stairs, I gave up surfing and sold my car so I could continue to play basketball. Through it all, my driving need has been to keep on being athletic. So I've reached a point where it takes two days for my body to recover from a night of full out dancing. But as the saying goes, if I ain't dancing, I'm dying.

So things get worse but with luck I'll be on the dance floor when the light flickers out and the bluesman wails his last song.