In 2003, Teitur released his first album, Poetry and Aeroplanes. I’ve listened to a lot of music since then, but this album is still the most romantic album I’ve ever heard. (His second album, by the way, did not carry the same tone.) The chorus to “Let’s Go Dancing” contains the following lyrics:
Let’s go dancing
Waltz around the rumor mill
In your faded dress with the daffodils
Let’s go dancing
Let time stand still
I’ve had this song in my head a fair bit recently, probably because Mitch and I have been taking dance lessons for about 8 months. He was in a ballroom dance club in college and taking lessons together was actually Mitch’s idea. We’re most proficient in salsa and cha cha, but we’ve dabbled in waltz, American tango, and bachata (very, very briefly on the latter).
Teitur has been stuck in my head all morning (did you know that’s called an earworm?) because last night was our last class at our studio, Inikori. I really didn’t expect to have such a hard time saying goodbye. We’ve only been at Inikori since March or April and we see our fellow salsa and cha cha learners once a week for an hour and a half. I guess dancing with strangers lends itself to a certain sort of intimacy; it’s hard to remain strangers when you’re immediately forced into partner relationships. A round of hugs and well wishes for our adventure to Malaysia was a clear indication that we had become part of a family, a family that both Mitch and I are reluctant to leave. If/when we move back to Rochester, Inikori will be one of our first destinations.
To ease our sorrows about saying goodbye to the Inikori family last night, we joined a few friends at a local rum bar for a drink. I took a picture of the empty patio behind us as soon as we arrived, and I’m glad I did because it was full by the time we left. Havana Cabana has live music and Latin dancing on the weekends, so Mitch and I are going dancing there tonight.
Saying goodbye to so many people this spring and summer has been quite a challenge. I’ve said goodbye to my students (that was devastating), coworkers, family members, and friends. You’d think I’d be good at it by now. But I hate saying goodbye. Leaving is hard. Life goes on for everyone, no matter who is in the picture and who is not. Sometimes old friends come home for a few days and are shocked by new haunts, new additions to our friend group, new apartments, new restaurants. I’m nervous to go away, but I’m also nervous to come back to totally different realties than the ones I know now. In Hebrew, there’s a word for “goodbye” and another word for “see you later.” There’s less finality there.
Cheers to dance, cheers to music, and cheers to adventure.