First, I missed the deadline for the test application by one day. Ugh. So I had to pay a late fee and drive over to the other rink to drop the application off.
Second, my blades are at the end of a sharpening. I can barely hold an edge. Fortunately, as I told Dance Coach "I'm getting them sharpened tomorrow."
As usual, Dance Coach goes immediately into his typical Mr. Suspicious third degree interrogation. It must be a Russian thing. Maybe it's in the genes. The Cheka, NKVD, KGB, FSB have a lot to answer for.
|"Who sharpens your blades?"|
I was coy. "He does Evan Lysacek's blades, and used to do Johnny Weir's, so I guess he's good enough for me."
Dance Coach gets a laugh out of that. Then he starts pumping me for Mr. X's location. So, score one for me.
With the dull blades (the right one is completely dead) I just can't get any depth on my edges in the Canasta Tango. It takes three times to get a clean pass. I don't want to tell you the lectures I got. I finally said defensively, "You know what they say, bad dress rehearsal, good performance."
From the furrowed brow, frown, and piercing eyes on Dance Coach's part, apparently they don't say that in Russia.
We did start on the Mohawk pattern in the Swing Dance. Of course, the mohawk is on my weak side. Still, I'm able to step through it without a. falling, b. embarassing myself. "Not awful, needs work." Dance Coach said. I threw up my hands in disgust at them. But although they're a tiny bit hoppy, they have nice crossed tracings and I maintain posture throughout the turn. So, 'not awful, needs work' is probably true--along with the unstated 'needs more power'.
The problem is in the back swingrolls. I'm supposed to turn my head to the opposite way to the leg that's swinging. And swing my leg. And skate backwards. And do it again on the other side. After a couple I feel like this.
|I'm pretty sure this is not an approved Swing Dance position.|