Do I Hear a Waltz?

Dum te dum, dum te dum, dum te dum, dumte dum. I love a waltz. Its alwys been my favorite dance and my favorite rhythm. Its been a life-long dream to go to Vienna for the Strousse concert on New Years Day. Theres something about a Strousse walts that reaches my soul.

My love affair with the waltz began when I was in my early teens. There was a show on TV in the late 50s called the Arthur Murry Dance Party. Arther and his elegant wife, Kathryn, opened and closed the show with a waltz, which they executed with such grace and beauty that I longed to be in her place. To dance with such a dignified man and to wear such a lovely and flowing gown was to be my dream that I would pursue forever.

I spent a month at my sisters house in Pennsylvania one summer, and I became friends with the girl down the street. We spent hours together, going to the pool, listening to records, hanging out on the front porch with other kids in the neighborhood, and playing with my sisters babies. On Saturday nights, just before the Arthur Murry sho came on, wed run upstairs to my sisters spare bedroom and rifle through the closet. There were all the old prom dresses and bridesmaids dresses. We were allowed to wear them while we watched the show. We pretended that Arthur would be asking us to dance the next dance. I dont know if Jody was into it as much as I, but its one of my favorite memries of that summer. I heard a Strousse walts on the radio this afternoon, and immediately, I was transported back to those prom dresses and the Arthur Murry show. Maybe someday, Ill get to Vienna. Meanwhile, Ill say this. Dear Kathryn, when I get to Heaven, may I have just one dance with your husband, and can it please be a waltz?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s