The audacity…

…of youth.

So. Had an altercation or two with a youthful person last night. Or, as I like to call them, rugrats. And yes, anything up to and including 30 years old, will be classified as a rugrat. Unless they prove the opposite.

Back to the altercation. I did not fight, or punch them out, much as I would have liked to, but it rankled me and threw me off my game for the rest of the evening. Such little things having such a huge impact – silly actually, but sometimes it’s the little things that hits the hardest!

We did the Viennese waltz, which I enjoy, and the jazz swing which I don’t enjoy. The latter I’ve only been doing at this studio – learned something else when I danced before, but it’s similar enough for me to have picked up the basic rhythm and managed the step, but I still don’t like the particular dance well enough to really bother getting good at it. The waltz, on the other hand, I am good at. I’ve been waltzing for the past 30 years – both as male and female. I would say I got it down just wonderfully. The one teacher often comments on how well I do do it.

Last night though, one of my partners was the short shit I spoke about before. We’re supposed to dance in patch. That means close body contact. And apparently you have to dance through the man. I’m sorry. In the first place, if you can’t go backwards on your own, far be it from me to push you. I don’t need you for balance unless we do an oversway or a ripple or maybe a fan. Otherwise I’m quite capable of balancing myself. I don’t LIKE the full body contact thing. I don’t know you, usually don’t like you, and my personal space is hugely important to me – not just anybody is allowed in there. So, last night’s waltz was not as successful as it might have been with a taller partner. If I’m going to dance through you I would appreciate it if your black and tackle does not tickle my leg. Know what I mean? If I’m to dance through you, I would like there to be some space for my legs to go through to! As it is, the only way I can maybe almost dance a ballroom with this young man is to do it on my haunches. The latins are not that bad – no body contact, just loose moves. I’ve been dancing longer than you’ve been alive prat. Literally. I don’t really need you to come and tell me how the effingwill do it!!!

I was not happy.

And then. There was this chick rugrat. As we get told to change partners, the young thing moves aside and says sweetly, but with venom dripping off her teeth like green snakes : “Tannie se beurt” Meaning – it’s your turn Aunty. GRRRRRR!!!!!  A bit of background. The word Tannie, is the name you call somebody that’s married to your uncle. Supposedly. In the Afrikaans vernacular though, Tannie is the word used by younger people when talking to older people. And mostly it’s not appreciated. Personally, when I talk to an older person that I don’t know from adam, I call them Meneer & Mevrou – sir and ma’am. Much more respectful, and it makes you feel a whole lot less like an old curmudgeon than the word Tannie. Alas, in the Afrikaans community, in certain aspects of it in any case, the word Tannie is widely used. But not something I will ever get used to being used on me! I’m not that old! And I don’t think I really look that old either!

Apparently I do.

So, I still enjoyed most of the dancing, but i was visibly off my game last night. oh well, better luck next time.

Saturday at least was not a waste so far. The dog got his check up and injections, we got a bag of quite expensive dog food for the rest and another complimentary bag of food for young Ben, with a bone to chew on. Had breakfast, and I got my shoes. Now, just waiting for the car to be washed, and then I’m off to Builders for my next project. Now that I can’t wait to start. List of stuff to buy has been made, list of possible bits has been made, I’ve looked to see what bits I do have so I know if I have the correct fitting for the bit – this is so exiting! Let’s hope the shop will not disappoint with lack of service. Think maybe I should go to Chaimberlains rather than Builders. Have gotten better service from the former than the latter. I’ll go to one, and if they don’t have what I need, I’ll just go to the other one for the rest.

Also been thinking. Maybe I should do something with the pond and it’s surrounds now that warmer weather is/are? in the cards. It is spring after all, time to try and make your garden look as good as it can. But I don’t have a plan just yet. Until I do, and while everything’s working the way it should, it can carry on as is a while longer. If any of you have any ideas as to how I can make the area around my pond look more than an area around a pond than the desert around an oasis, I would much appreciate it!

 

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27 comments on “The audacity…

  1. I remember when we first arrived in SA, and a neighbour’s kid called me ‘Tannie’. It made me feel like an old crone, even though I was only twenty-three. 🙂 All this dancing talk really wears me out, but I agree that a tall dark, handsome man would be far preferable to a “short shit.” 🙂

    • It is a form of respect, a very Afrikaans thing – back then even more so than now, but I know it makes you feel ancient 🙂
      As for the tall, dark & handsome, yes well. Suppose I’ll have to settle for dancing with the instructors 🙂

  2. Perfectly understandable about the partner and the Tannie-spewing young ‘un. Ick.
    I always hated dancing with a short partner and I found one too tall was also difficult. The best fit was one a couple of inches taller. I had a dance partner for ten years and it took a while to get used to the intimate body contact required and then I was okay because he was my partner. No way would I dance that way with just anybody.

    • We have a tall dude at the studio. And for shoes, he wears the QE2. No way you’re going to avoid those while doing a quick waltz! he has no rhythm, just does the steps and bugger if you can;t figure out what the heck he wants to do because there’s no lead to speak of either.
      My kingdom for a good dance partner!!

  3. Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Ins’t it there is so much body contact on ballroom dancing, not for waltz. Boy o boy, words… never the mind. Enjoy the pond, Ms. g.

  4. There is always somebody. Try a large choir D: I get particulary naffed off with bitchy sopranos think they’re the greatest, make snide comments all the time, and pierce my eardrums with they’re shrieking and warbling. Fortunately, the height of the male singers doesn’t effect me!

    Poor you, having to put up with a titch dancer, as well as lack of respect from your youngers.

    • Only my thin veneer of rationality stopped me from doing just that Col 🙂
      It was a close call though. You should have seen my face!!
      Priceless 😉

    • Can’t imagine you would call anybody Tannie chickpea – it’s not in your culture. And yes, I know a lot of Afrikaans kids use it, and mostly I don’t mind it. In some cases I even insist on it. But in that scenario, not so much. Oh well. I suppose I’ll have to get used to it!

  5. And to think I almost didn’t play the tune – does “scat” have the same meaning in S.A. as it does here in the U.S.? (hint: you would find it in the litter box) – coupled with your description of your partner and adinpardise’s last line… grin!

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