Friday, March 21, 2008

Tahoe Tango?

My Dad & I just made the four hour drive over to Lake Tahoe today for 3 days of skiing, which of course I'm excited about.

There's only one thing missing: tango.

As we barreled over here today I kept checking my phone with growing envy as my tango posse exchanged emails about whether to go to El Valenciano, La Pista or the Verdi Club tonight. Damn, we've got it good in San Francisco.

So, in my effort to ease my pain of the tango I was missing in SF, I searched online for Tahoe tango, but only found ads for the Chevy Tango truck. I'm getting anxious for any tango, so I watch the Chevy Tango ad on YouTube and not only isn't there any tango dancing in the ad, but they don't even show one person in the entire ad. Tango without gotta love those advertising geniuses.

But I digress.

I resume my search for Tahoe tango by asking the woman working at the front desk. She very politely tries to hide her chuckle at the absurdity of my question.

I head back to my room where I'm alone working on my blog (my Dad's losing his lift ticket money over at blackjack). I give up on finding a milonga and turn on my phone and start playing "Perfume" by Bajofondo Tango Club. I notice my reflection in the mirror fifteen feet away and, getting desparate, I cabeceo, but my reflection turns away, pretending to not have seen my invitation. I'm annoyed--who else is that person going to dance with here!?! And on top of that, that is definitely the worst dancer who has ever rejected my invitation to dance. I let my frustration pass and pretend the rejection doesn't bother me. My reflection looks around the room and finally seems resigned to the fact that it's me or nobody. I cabeceo again and this time my reflection accepts, but with a forced half-smile. We walk towards each other and immediately we both try to lead. Finally, we give up in frustration and walk away from each other.

If I hop into my car right now, I can still make it back to the Verdi club for the last tanda.


Sappho Kuzan said...

You poor, poor dear. I used to go to Tahoe all the time, but never for the tango dear. Probably why I don't go anymore. I'm currently stuck in the middle of a frickin' snow storm in a state that's never even heard of tango. So I feel ya.

Mark Andersen said...

Touche, Sappho! You're right--I have no reason to complain. It's just hard not tangoing for almost a week.

And given that you're in a state that's never heard of tango, I think it's a perfect opportunity for you to start teaching there. I'm sure you'd be a great teacher!

Anonymous said...

Mark, what an awesome post. Your reflection turned away from your cabeceo. There is something so very Albert Camus about this post....

Mark Andersen said...

You're too kind, Johanna. I do feel like one of Camus's characters, though (Sisyphus). Tango is the rock I carry and every day it rolls down the mountain. But this is my lot in life and I accept it. Absurd, I know.

Anonymous said...

I don't care what you say, Mark. That was a very existentialist moment with the mirror.

Tango is just an existentialist existence.

Bandoneon said...

Ahhhh .. Lo siento my friend ... and for me ... as I sit in my Monte Bleu hotel room in South Lake Tahoe surfing for a Milonga, and what comes up is your blog. I guess I will wait untill I get to Ashland, Oregon where I will see if the usual Milongas are still happening over the July 4th weekend ... hmmm ... wonder if I can make the Verdi Club and back before the sun comes up.