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Her voice was surprisingly clear, bridging the miles between Rome and Atlanta as if she were calling from down the street.

My wife, Susan, was excited. After all, this was her first trip abroad. Her first night in Europe.

She had returned from a long walk through a city full of celebration. This was the summer of 2006. Italy was on its way to winning the World Cup, and Romans were in a good mood.

Soon, Susan would link up with our daughter, who was completing a University of Georgia study abroad program. But she had a few hours to herself before then.

I checked in with her late that night. It must have been after midnight her time. Somewhere in her descriptions of the cafes, the historic streets, the people, she slipped it in.

“And I danced with Marco.”

Marco?

She had my full attention now.

“We did the tango,” she said.

Tango?

Within minutes, I was satisfied with the explanation.

Susan had passed a group of couples dancing near the Tiber River. She had asked them what dance they were doing. One of the individuals, Marco, asked if she would like to try.

A bit shy, Susan finally said, “yes.”

Our conversation lasted a few more minutes. After I hung up, I sat at my work station and smiled.

Susan. Rome. Dancing.

This must have been Heaven for her.

My wife has always loved to dance. Buck dancing. Rock. Pop. Hip-hop. Disco. Country. She even led our rookie group effort at the Atlanta Greek Festival a couple weeks back.

Dancing also resides in our three children’s DNA.

Those dancing genes didn’t come from me. I can feel rhythm, but just can’t emulate it on the dance floor. There are times I make a passable effort; often I come up short.

It isn’t for a lack of trying. In my youth, I knew it was a way to get the ladies’ attention. So I was motivated to give it my best shot. But I never seemed to get past an E for Effort. Then, time moved on. With marriage, raising a family took priority. We never got to those dance lessons.

Over the 30 years of our relationship, I’ve been up for dancing about once a year, generally at a charity benefit, wedding or a trip to Oktoberfest in Helen, Ga.

I do it because it makes Susan happy.

This may sound strange, but I actually like it when a talented dancer asks Susan to the dance floor, or vice-versa. I enjoy her smiles as she learns new styles and matches the moves of an accomplished hoofer. I’m not the jealous type.

Susan especially values the skills of older gentlemen who know the steps from a bygone era. She has danced the polka and waltz with them at Alpine-themed Helen and the jitterbug at a big band-themed benefit in Gwinnett County.

Still, my wife appreciates me trying to overcome my clumsiness and my fear of the dance floor, even if she has to lead.

And so it was this past Saturday. The family went to the beer-fueled Helen Festhalle to celebrate Susan’s birthday to the sounds of the Sauerkrauts and Roland Kurz.

And, of course, to dance.

We whirled across the dance floor. I did my best to keep in time and give the appearance I knew what I was doing.

It must have worked. Susan complimented me and said I was dancing well.

If only Marco could see us now.

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8 Responses to “Dancing with the heart”

1. Amanda Miller Allen says:

   October 14, 2009 at 9:45 am

   Hi Phil
   Loved your piece on Rome and dancing, and can’t resist commenting. All the dance teachers say the same thing, and they’re right: If you can walk, you can dance. It just takes a little help. Go for a group class, or two, at a dance studio — costs a measly $10-$12 — and you’ll be surprised how much you’ll pick up, very quickly. You know Susan loves to dance, and this is an inexpensive gift she’ll love. Studios also sell dance packages for couples — the perfect holiday gift.
   Amanda

   Reply
2. Phil says:

   October 14, 2009 at 9:51 am

   Thanks for the advice, Amanda. I may now be out of excuses for not getting lessons.

   Reply
3. C Smith says:

   October 14, 2009 at 10:42 am

   Phil the dance lessons sound great and being able to watch your wife have fun and enjoy it as much as she does sounds even better. So here comes the but- Some day you will wish you had danced every dance with her no matter how clumsy or out of step you feel. Trust me, lessons or no lessons, Dance.

   Reply
4. Kay Powell says:

   October 14, 2009 at 12:12 pm

   Phil, your piece makes me dance in my heart.

   Reply
5. chrys says:

   October 14, 2009 at 2:38 pm

   Phil, you are a trooper– keep dancing.

   Reply
6. Visser says:

   October 15, 2009 at 7:48 am

   Nicely done both on the keyboard and the dance floor, Phil

   Reply
7. Dallas says:

   October 16, 2009 at 12:22 am

   You speak for more of us and many of us would admit, and it helps. Well done. Thank you.

   Reply
8. Cliff Green says:

   October 18, 2009 at 9:04 pm

   I got off to a bad start with this. At first, I thought you were merely expressing surprise at how good the telephone connection is between Rome up in Floyd County and Atlanta.

   Reply

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