The Bulldozer

This is the guy who will knock you into every single couple in your dancing radius. Forgetting that leading is also spotting for the little top in heels that you are spinning left and right, Bulldozers will charge you through the dance floor without any control or regard for those around you. Identify them quick  and early on in a dance ladies, so you know to tighten your steps and focus on what’s around you. The dance will probably be lame because you won’t be free, but your objective in dancing with a Bulldozer is to finish the dance in one piece to move on to a Fred-Astaire. Bulldozers are cousins of Topsy-Turveys (keep reading).

Columbo

Salsa dancing is very much like wearing a mask over our every day lives. When we hit the dance floor, we are simply salseras and salseros. Sometimes though we wear evidence of our outside lives that our partners pick up on during a dance that make a person go, hmmmm…. The worn hands: hardened with callouses, dirt under the fingernails not from neglect but from labor, the scratches and scars. And the muscular arms that go with them. The t-shirt from a company or product. And sometimes it’s the work clothes and equipment you bring to the class or a social discarded in the corner. It brings out the Columbo in you, so we’ll call the salsera/os that inspire this Columbo. Some things are better left unasked. Enjoy the dance.

Shy-But-Why

These are the dancers who are diamonds in the rough. They have a salsa soul but doubt their Jedi powers. They come as leads and followers. If you spot one, it is your duty to guide them to the dance floor and help them overcome the cloud over their salsa brilliance.

Ghosts of Past:

Mambobot: Idea submitted by JPLogan. Oh it is painful how many of these there are… The salsa folk who dance like the letters off a class syllabus. They execute moves in exactly the same manner without individual flair. Unfortunately you’ll see plenty of this at the congresses. Not to be confused with, Have No Rhythm, Don’t Count, Don’t Care.

The Throwback: Whip out the toupee, 70’s bells, ruffled tux, and a pair of aviator shades. With low lights it’s hard to spot this aging Salsero. He’s probably been dancing since salsa’s birth, and has the entire Fania record collection at home. This doesn’t stop him from coming out at night, bless his dancing heart. One way to identify this character is to examine the smile he’ll flash you during a rumba move- those perfectly shaped shiny bright teeth are probably grandpa’s dentures.

The Leper: Anyone who has unidentified body odors, marks, or open wounds is a bio-hazard to a fellow dancer! Usually you discover the identity of this character way too late (like when the doctor is diagnosing you with some rare hand disease that is only transmitted from 3 minutes of palm-to-palm hand holding). It’s hard to be a salsa dancer in the age of swine flu. Perhaps that’s why we dance with dimmed lights.

The Tease: Submitted by JPLogan. Usually a female (sorry girls, but it’s true) but some men also play this game; this is the salsa dancer that will give you some major “I want you off the dance floor ” signals, but will leave you stone cold on the dance floor, laughing at you like a shrew. Categorizing someone with this name is very risky- sensual does not equal tease (it is dancing, after all). But if your dance partner whispers sweet nothings in your ear, unleashes heavy winks or gives you some x-ray vision stares across the dance floor, beware! This salsa character might leave your head spinning long after your turn patterns are over.

Ghosts of past…

Narcissus: Let’s start with you, Narcissus, as you’re so easy to spot. You are the not-salsero who asks a girl to dance, but spends the entire time watching yourself dance in the mirror. You are fond of the side-step because it allows you to position yourself at an angle where your dance partner doesn’t obstruct your view of yourself in the looking glass. When you do remember you have a dance partner, it is only for a moment, because you adjust the girl’s grip on you as a queen would rearrange a diamond bracelet so that it better highlights her wrist.

Predator: As vulgar as the one in the movie, you don’t salsa to dance. You salsa to get a quick feel and three minutes of hand-holding. Your favorite target are the beginners, not so much because they are your choice; the more advanced girls don’t have to dance with you anymore. And besides, those girls already got your predator number. You come in all shapes, sizes, ethnicities, and ages. Guys, it’s less frustrating on all of us to just drop the money on a good lap dance at Hustler. They have a taxi stand right outside their doors to take you home when you’re done.

Frog to Prince Charming: Oh, you’re a delight! You are the guys whom most would least expect to be great dancers. Either because you’re no Fabio in your outer shell, you emit a rhythmless vibe off the dance floor, or you’re straight out of Revenge of the Nerds. When the clave sings, POOF! You bedazzle us with the smoothest moves, showing us, indeed, there is such thing as Clark Kent and Superman.

Romeo Don Juan: Ahh… you are dangerous. You have a mix of moves, sultry eyes, a sexy smile and good looks. Dancing with you is not just a dancing pleasure… it’s a woman’s fantasy. Your dancing plays a narrative in our minds. Don’t burst our bubble by opening your mouth or telling us of life off the dance floor. Keep counting with us, and next time, can you wear an all white linen suit and straw hat?

Fred Astaire: These are the salseros who are just outright dancing demons. Fred Astaires: All other categories you may fall under melt away because your dancing is that good. That’s what we think about during and after the dance. Fred Astaires can also be Frogs and (a very deadly combo) Romeo Don Juans.

Zorro: Who was that masked man? That’s what you’ll ask yourself if you should find yourself dancing with a mystery man who wow’s you during one dance (or evening of dancing), whom you never see again. You can spend the rest of your life going from social to social, wondering if you’ll ever see him again. He leaves you only with memories.

Rag Doll Boogier: These guys are pretty annoying. They are the ones that are just plain rough and uncouth. They throw you around the dance floor left and right, almost dislocating your arm from its socket. They are not gentle in any way, and forget that the woman should be the highlight of most of the dance. See also Predator, Topsy-Turvy, Borracho and Have no Rhythm-Don’t Count-Don’t Care.

Topsy-Turvey: These are the spinners! Most of the time these are the guys that like to spin YOU, and nothing more. Take a Dramamine, ladies, before taking their hands. Rarely though you’ll get ones that like to spin themselves mostly. In this case, brush up on some shines and women’s styling so you have something to do while they’re into the fourth triple turn.

Borracho: The drunk. You are almost automatically dismissed from most ladies’ dances, except when you mask it until it’s too late (for us). You are dangerous because like an octopus with many arms, in each move you have us do, you can be so many other characters. See Predator, Topsy-Turvy, Rag Doll Boogier, and Have No Rhythm-Don’t Count-Don’t Care. Being tipsy is fine. It’s just flat out dangerous to be drunk and salsa-ing.

I Really Despise Women, and That I’m Not a Woman: Just pretend while we dance.

Have No Rhythm, Don’t Count, Don’t Care: You best get off the social dance floor too. You can do your thing at parties and family events, and maybe even clubs. But don’t ask a real salsera to dance with you! I’m all for inventing your own salsa dancing if it is in synch with the music. Maybe you’re the next Eddie Torres for your own count. In this case, clarify this first with your dance partner (or at least make an attempt to work with her own feel of the music).  But don’t feel shuffling here and there constitutes salsa at salsa events with serious dancers.

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• Bobsledding is Nascar driving on ice.
• Ice-skating: Most skaters either look like they are skating with their partner (pairs), skating to the music (ice-dancing) or skating by themselves (individual). Kim Yu-Na, female Gold Medalist, skates as if the ice is her partner. Most elegant skaters look like performers showing off their stuff. I get goose bumps seeing Yu-Na because she skates as if the ice is her lover, the audience is simply there as a silent witness.  Truly the queen.
• Speed skating short track is great. Roller derby on ice.
• People should back off from trying to make Snow-boarders into suits. Telling them how to act, what to do, blah blah. They are what they are, that’s their sport!
• Basically, the Winter Olympics is great for anyone who likes fast sports.What makes it funny is that some of these guys look like couch potatoes, unlike the physique of the summer Olympians.

What are some urban Olympic Sports that we can add?

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Like it or not, some New Yorkers treat Central Park like a Galápagos Island. It’s either a free pet store or an orphanage. We’ve racked up a dog, iguana and parakeet from its forests, all with the thrill of catching them with our own hands. How many of you will fess up to taking your Woolworth’s goldfish to a local pond to either to spare it the spin down the toilet bowl, or because you imagined that it would have a better life there?  Keep it up and we’ll spawn some new weird urban species.

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Alright, this confession comes from a barista/cook/waiter/owner all in one type of worker behind the counter of a Greek diner. It’s SCANDALOUS, I say, for a Greek or Greek diner coffee lover. Now I truly believe the magic behind the Greek diner coffee is the temperature. See my Cecil-ware conversations about this. But on two separate occasions at two different diners, I heard a fellow addict ask the Greek magician if he used “the Greek coffee”, as she sipped her black elixir with a smile. He nodded, and then mumbled, “Venizelos…” Venizelos, is it you in there?! How is that possible, you are the dark demi-tasse kind. Perhaps the diners are using this as a “secret sauce”, a variant of a potion I am convinced a certain donut chain uses to make their coffee taste so darn good. Or is the coffee in some of these places exclusively brewed from Venizelos beans? If any of you try to make a cup of joe with Venizelos from a drip machine and not a briki, let us know how it tastes.  We’re close to unraveling the code of the king of urban coffee.

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Part of Urban Confessions Week

…These are not the words you’d expect from someone married, partnered or involved… but it’s true! C-mixto finds me in bed with him every night like clockwork. He has come to recognize his voice when the covers block out his face,  and rolls his eyes when he realizes that I am in bed with Craig Ferguson. Craig Ferguson! How I’ve developed quite an appetite to stay up late and watch you! How can it be avoided? You are truly a gifted comedian from what I see from your show, and the philosophic words of your theme song have convinced me that “tomorrow is” truly my “future yesterday” so I might as well stay up and be entertained.

You are one of the few celebrities I’ve actually taken an interest in learning more about, even buying your memoir (which sort of provoked this series, because I feel a little shame in this). It is probably your ability to keep my attention and evoke a sincere laugh from me that has spawned this regular habit of watching you.  Your performance is fluid, jokes are spared the staleness often inherited from rehearsals. You are truly a one-man-act.

I have to say (does this constitute a double confession, one now to you?)… lately I have been watching your shows online the day after it airs at a time more convenient for me. It’s fun, but, sigh… not the same as the intimacy of sneaking off with you at 12:35am while others are asleep.

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Part of Urban Confessions Week

Those in the confessional:

Nova is making a guilt-free declaration: She dances “on-two”, mambo style and makes no apologies. No, dears, it isn’t snobbery, I’m not part of the gang taking salsa away from its Nuyorican streets and “legitimizing” it in ballrooms with white academics. Dancing “on two” is a practice of cultural preservation of a distinct style of salsa dancing. It fits me like a glove, fills me with a joy of living, and does the same for others too. And practicing a certain form of salsa dancing sort of makes it an exciting hobby.

Does being an on2 dancer make it harder to spontaneously go out and be able to express your adopted art form? Sure… so you try to learn to manage to celebrate salsa’s other forms. But in your heart you ache… you can’t become one with that second explosive beat that drums along with your heart.

And for all you non-counters out there that think the passion of music is lost in numbers… it can be said that numbers are the fabric of everything- we forget or don’t realize this because numbers speak in different languages. And, as JPLogan so astutely pointed out to me one salsa night, the biggest counters are the ones making salsa itself: the musicians! Does this mean you need to go out and buy an abacus to bring along with you to the dance floor? No… after awhile the numbers are dressed differently, sort of like when you stop “translating” a foreign language slowly in your head after you have a fundamental command of it.

So take those salsa shoes out of the closet, get to Iguana, a social, whatever floats your boat and when the music starts, if you’re a lady, step out with the right on one, a man, break back with the left. Doesn’t that feel good?

For more about this, visit: salsanewyork.com

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