Tagged - 8 - The Dance Meme

No Nonsense Girl tagged me for this meme which asks for a story that's happened personally to the blogger which involves dancing in some way. I've mentioned this one before on comments at another blog, but it's worth resurrecting.

When I was in grade 11, I was involved in quite a few of the onstage numbers in our annual end-of-the-year show for the Prince Andrew Chorus. Our music teacher, James Farmer, used to step back and let the students organize, rehearse, arrange and perform our own variety show. Interspersed would be full choir numbers that he would conduct. But basically it was our own show. Luckily for us, we had a future maestro as our arranger/rehearsal conductor/accompaniest - Mark Morash. We had a very efficient 'company manager' in Shelley MacDonald, who took care of all the business aspects of the show. And we had a very eager bunch of choir members who were more like the kids from 'Fame', if you remember that film.

Anyway, we had the theme of 'one' for our show that year. It was the graduating year for a lot of my closest friends, including my first boyfriend (by that time my ex-boyfriend - oh, the heartache.) It was a pretty emotional show for all of us. Mark did a choral arrangement (at age 17!) of 'One Voice' to open the show, where we had a single singer walk onstage, to be joined by more and more of us until we finished the song as a full chorus. And we closed the show with 'One' from 'A Chorus Line', with a four-member high-kicking chorus line co-choreographed by moi (and danced by moi, as well.)

Besides that dance number, the biggest highlight for me was the three-member Can-Can that I also helped choreograph and danced. I borrowed my best friend's mom's square dancing petticoats to poof out my skirt. I had a white blouse on top and a black corset my mom had made for me (it wasn't boned, just a lace-up vest, really, but I loved it.) Everything was perfect for performance night. We'd rehearsed it and I knew all my quick changes in between choir numbers and individual performances. We had a lot of solo vocalists, as you can imagine from a choir - but we also had a flaming baton twirler! And a highland dancer. So the three of us - Alanna, Dawn and I stood in the wings as the applause died down from the previous performer. The stage crew cued up the recording of the famous Offenbach Can-Can Gallup from 'Orpheus in the Underworld' and off I dashed, kicking up my heels as high as I could, flouncing my skirt and smiling away.

I was the first one onstage. The plan was to kick away, flounce my skirt and turn, back to the audience, bend over, flip my skirt up and wait there for the other two to do the same. Cheeky yet not as funny as the audience seemed to react to it. Alanna danced out and I looked down at my forearm while I tried to catch my breath.

That's when I realized the last quick change had gone a little too quickly.

There was my blouse sleeve. But where was the bodysuit sleeve that should have been beneath it? The giggling from the audience continued, even picking up speed. As Alanna turned and flipped her skirt beside me, she looked over at me and I knew by the shock and pure laughter in her eyes that it was true.

I bent there onstage in just my regular, non-costumey underwear.

Nylons, too, grant you, but it was obvious that I was nearly flashing everyone. This is a good 20 years before it seemed boring to show one's underwear in public. So, as Dawn did her kicking and skirt flipping, I just resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing I could do about it and the rest of the dance beckoned. I didn't even feel that mortified - the adrenaline of the Can-Can filled me with recklessness.

Now, who shall I tag for this dancing meme? Akelamalu, Carrie Lofty, Jill the Acadian, Seeley DeBorn, Sparky Duck

I leave you with with a fun and flirty version of the Can-Can that I found on YouTube. Our version also had cartwheels, plus splits, and a bit more hopping-and-kicking, with those little circling-from-the-knee kicks. We were in good shape, but we found that Can-Can to be the longest two-and-a-half minutes we'd ever experienced. Bon soir mes amis!