Amazing Lives

I met Frankie dancing in Port Townsend, Washington.  He was one of those amazing people who are talked about - with a love approaching awe - but are too busy to toot their own horn.  I was on a steep learning curve to catch up with my partner and stick with our class.  Frankie and the other instructors helped put me completely at ease, so I didn't fret about keeping up, just learned and enjoyed everything as much as I could. 

That was a part of his gift, of course: such a welcoming, gentle presence that even novice dancers could relax and enjoy, if only for a few moments, the feeling of dancing effortlessly.  So much fun, why bother looking at your feet anyway?

Nobody gets the nickname "Musclehead" without earning it.  I'd love to hear about what he was like in his younger days.  That story about his wife from the '70's was nice.  Anybody know more about his earlier years?  Please speak up.

What I remembered best was just doing it.  Learning about swing, black-bottom, or other "historic" dances, not in words, but by trying them.  I treasure the balance, adaptability, and poise I learned while dancing, and use it for my ongoing work in hands-on teaching. (I'm looking for good rhythmic "working songs" if you know any.)

I had an Uncle Julian, about the same vintage as Frankie.  While Frankie was dancing, Julian was playing the trumpet: in dance bands, or standing on his head on "Ripley's Believe It Or Not." Later, when he "lost his chops," he took up drums and kept at it with an old-timer band.

When I was in my early twenties, Uncle Julian passed away.  He played a gig the night before he died.  I always thought that's how I wanted to go: singing, dancing, smiling, and laughing. It's not over 'til it's over. 

There's something marvelous in the hearts of people who survive into their 90's and beyond. A friend calls them "spiritual elders:" people who've passed through the known stages of human life and are still with us on the great adventure.  Everything they planned to do is done, or doesn't matter now: the rest is gravy!  That's the best I can put it in words; I suspect they know quite a lot I don't, and there may be more to it than that.  I do know that their presence is an immeasurable gift. 

A smile from one of these folks lights up their whole face and yours too.  Words fall by the wayside: I can't remember what (if anything) was said, but I carry that glow through the rest of my day.  That grin says: You know, life is too good to waste.

My grandmother was starting to get there, but she died a little young to fully enjoy it (82).  Now I'm actively seeking out older folks through volunteer work, and listening a lot better than I used to.  Frankie did more for the world, just by being himself, dancing his best, and enjoying people thoroughly, than he could have by a million paper arguments.

When someone smiles more than he talks, and laughs more than he sleeps, you just know he's got a secret and you hope it's contagious.

Thanks, Frankie. 
See if you can hook up with Uncle Julian and Grandma Enid, and get her to Shaddish with you.  Tell them and all the folks up there we miss 'em, and we're doing fine.
-Erica Wisner 

www.ErnieAndErica.info