Tapped Out

         When I was very young I decided that what I wanted to do with my life was become a dancer. Even though I didn’t know how to dance yet I knew that I wanted to do something which would allow me to wear my tap shoes every day.

         It was during World War II and while my father was overseas  my mother and I were living with my grandmother.  I think it was her idea for me to take dance lessons as a way of working off some of my rambunctious energy. Once enrolled, I wore my tap shoes from morning till bedtime, even on days when I didn’t have dance class. This wonderful new life lasted for several months until one day my mother told me I would have to drop out because when she had written my dad to tell him what I was doing he had written back that he would rather I stopped. (I learned later that he had actually used some bad words in his letter and wanted to know, by the way, what had happened to the closet full of balls he had left for me to play with).  For me the most devastating part of the dictum was I would have to give up my tap shoes, since they were rented from the dance teacher.

         My father was more open to my next dancing opportunity because he considered it more manly. Several friends and I were invited to be a part of a square dancing group that would perform at various functions in our small town, mainly parades. We would dance on a truck trailer as the parade moved through town, simultaneously trying to keep time to the music while not falling into the crowd. I couldn’t help noticing there seemed to be more laughing than applauding but I continued performing until my other friends convinced me I was making a fool of myself.

         But then when I reached sixth grade Mrs. Monday and rock and roll came into my life, and I discovered that dancing could be a lot of fun even without tap shoes. She taught us a few steps and I became so obsessed that I talked one of the girls into bringing her record player to school so that we could dance during the noon hour. Even though some of the younger kids would stare through the window and snicker at us, we were having a great time until the principal, ironically Mrs. Monday’s husband, told us it was inappropriate.

         As I got a little older I began to notice that there were a number of dancers on TV and some were tap dancing. I wondered: might it be possible to fulfill my childhood dream of wearing tap shoes every day and make a living doing it? I decided to ask my mother if she would approach Dad about my giving up a sport or two so that I would have time for dance lessons. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she said, “the only thing that would accomplish would be to get us both killed.”

         Then she told me she thought it was time for me to move on. I decided she was right so for the remainder of my junior high and high school years I concentrated on sports. When I received a scholarship to play college football, I thought my dad took too much of the credit for having suggested I not let dance lessons get in the way.

         I continued to enjoy dancing during my college years and would mention to friends that when I was younger I had fantasized about making it a career. I knew I was probably mentioning it too often when they began to respond by telling me that every time the word ‘dance’ was mentioned I would repeat the story.

         About the time I was finishing college I had the opportunity to meet and visit with a woman who had had an outstanding dancing career in New York City. Just making conversation I said, “I’ll bet your workout schedule was as rigorous as our football training.”

         She smiled and said, “Well it was every day, all day long, beginning when I was nine years old.”

         “That’s definitely very rigorous,” I said.

          “Yes, and the sad thing is that after all of those years of hard work the majority became discouraged and gave up,” she added.

         “Did you do some tap dancing?” I asked.

         “Mainly ballet, but some tap,” she said.

         “So you obviously owned a pair of tap shoes.”

         “Of course. Why, were you a tap dancer?”

         “No, but I sometimes thought I would like to be, however the way you’ve described the path, I don’t think I would have made it.”

         In a kind voice she said, “probably not.”