LEWISTON – Diane Williams has been teaching dance classes for years, so when some of us tell her we have one or two left feet too many, she smiles politely and says, “Everyone can do it.”
She adds something about there being varying degrees of how well each of us will dance, but it’s already too late to protest. For a warm-up, she announces as she hits a button on her CD player, we’ll be doing “The Hustle.”
Suddenly there is disco in the air, and I am stepping to the right (one, two, three, four), stepping to the left (one, two, three, four), and then going my own way, stumbling right out of the general dance area.
This is line dancing with HealthSteps, a program offered through the Prevention & Wellness Services of St. Mary’s Regional Medical Center. I am here because I forgot that embarrassing incident years ago when I laughed myself right out of step aerobics. (Yup. Going the wrong direction all the time.)
I’m also here because I was with friends at Club Texas in Auburn a few weeks ago, and I discovered that the problem with going to a country bar on a quiet night is there is not much to do unless you can dance. Always game to try something new, I decided to take a class – I wasn’t about to flaunt my lack of skills in front of those women with expertly swiveling hips and cowgirl boots, or the men with the tight jeans, big belt buckles and serious-looking 10-gallon hats.
Thankfully, in class, Williams’ rendition of “The Hustle” is slow enough to allow me time to think, and I am able to get back into the lineup after each misstep. This is only the second time she has offered line dancing through the HealthSteps program, she says, but it seems to be popular.
On Tuesday night, there are six women dancing, some of whom have taken similar classes before.
There is nothing intimidating about the group, and despite the session being held in a nursing home, it’s a lively crew of women. Williams says most of her students are in their 30s or 40s, but she also sometimes has young children and teenagers in her classes.
She shows everyone how to make the dances easier or harder (clapping above the leg instead of under in one dance, kicking low or high in another). In the hour-long session, I find myself warming up because I’m actually getting some exercise for a change.
Everyone laughs frequently, and there’s talk about whether it would be better or more embarrassing to have men in the room: no consensus is reached.
After practicing dances ranging from the “Electric Slide” to “Elvira” and “Amos Moses,” most of the class agrees that “New York, New York” is the overall favorite. I am wracking my brain to try and remember what steps we learned 45 minutes ago, but Williams is quick to repeat everything. We step to and fro, crossing our feet and kicking our legs, sometimes in near-perfect unison.
“You did it,” yells Patti Roberts, a Turner woman who has been behind me most of the class, watching me spin in the wrong direction or kick when everyone else cross steps. She’s yelling because I finished one round of steps without a hitch, and I grin.
It was a lucky break, but I’ll take what I can get.
Get out of town, Napoleon Dynamite. Now, where can I get me a cowgirl hat?
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