Blame it on bad reception. We were driving home from Washington, D.C., last year when someone from the Phillips-Strickland House in Bangor called to ask me a question: “Would you consider … [static] … sometime in 2015 … [static] … for a good cause … [static] … it should be fun.”
“Sure,” I said. “And what is this again?”
It’s like the local version of “Dancing With the Stars.”
Oh.
The last time I danced in front of an audience was when I was 8 years old and participated in a “Hello, Dolly” recital. My mom had to take me to the bathroom five times before I went on stage, and I almost missed it.
I probably danced a few times in college, but never sober. And I’ve certainly never volunteered to dance in a contest.
In the back seat of the car, however, Lindell flung a pair of earphones at his brother and screamed for him to stop looking in his direction. So, obviously, at that moment, I’d sign myself up for anything that meant time away from home.
Even dancing.
And especially dancing for a good cause.
The Phillips-Strickland House is the only Bangor nonprofit that serves senior residents age 65 and older, regardless of their ability to pay. Many of the Phillips-Strickland residents receive MaineCare support, but that does not cover the cost of the organization’s services. To fill the gaps, the Phillips-Strickland House hosts a yearly fundraiser in the form of a local version of “Dancing With the Stars.” Local, familiar faces are paired with professional dancers from the University of Maine, and then you all get to vote on our performances. You vote by purchasing a ticket in the name of a specific dancer or by filling the voting boxes the night of the dance.
My competition includes: Dr. David Koffman, an internist at Bangor Internal Medicine; Dr. Peter Ver Lee, a cardiologist; Philip Henry, an Ironman competitor and hockey player; Buffie McCue, assistant director for athletic advancement at the University of Maine; and Kate Hills, a real estate agent at ERA Dawson-Bradford.
Our partners are all talented students from the University of Maine’s School of Performing Arts who have graciously agreed to overlook our nonprofessional status and dance with us anyway.
When Lindell heard that I planned to dance with another man, he was not happy.
“I’m putting my foot down about this, Mom,” he said. “You cannot dance with anyone except Dad.”
This is particularly remarkable because Lindell has seen his dad dance.
“No,” Dustin said. “Mom can dance with this other — uh, what’s his name? — guy. It’s fine.”
His name is Ian, and he used to teach at the Arthur Murray School of Dance.
Lindell flung himself onto the floor and cried. By this point — two weeks into practices — I wanted to join him. Ballroom dancing is tough. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. My left sock, covered with the black marks of my dancing partner’s shoes, is proof that I tend to lead, not follow. And ballroom dancing involves being in the personal space of someone you don’t yet know well.
One night, Dustin came with me to dance practice. My partner wanted someone to videotape our routine so that I could study it (as if that would help). After the practice was over, Dustin got a brief instruction as well. (Phillips-Strickland House: I’m volunteering Dustin for next year!)
After an hour and a half of dancing with my partner, I got to dance with my husband. Lindell would be happy to know that holding onto his dad felt like putting on an old shoe: comfortable, familiar, an extension of myself. But that’s just the way it felt. What we looked like was two middle-schoolers at their first boy-girl dance: unsure and stepping on each other’s feet. Which is to say, my professional dancing partner definitely makes me look good — if I remember to follow his lead.
At 6 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 21, you can come see our performance at the Morgan Hill Event Center in Hermon. There will be appetizers and a cash bar before the show and a dance party and silent auction after. I hear that box seats to the Boston Bruins are on the table.
Tickets are available through the Phillips-Strickland House ( www.pshouse.org), and you get to choose a pair to receive your vote. I’ll just be glad to have your applause … or sympathies, and if I can get through this without falling off the stage or needing an orthopedic, I’ll consider it a job well done.
Maine author and columnist Sarah Smiley’s writing is syndicated weekly to publications across the country. She may be reached at facebook.com/Sarah.is.Smiley.