So what am I supposed to write about when everyone comes to class wearing everything correctly, not looking like either you got dressed for class in the dark or your coming off your shift at Hooter’s. Damn it!
My plan for this post was to rip, that sounds mean, lets say critique the decision making skills of some of my fellow students like I did last week, unfortunately the girl who met the wrath of my pen and her friend were no-shows. Maybe there was an American Apparel photo shoot for slutty ballet students that I wasn’t aware of.
A cheap shot BY American Apparel. *
Anyway, so much for that idea. Then I turned on the tv after getting home from class and I saw the televised train wreck, Dance Moms, check your local listing for time and channel. If this dance, what the fuck have I been doing? Yeah, yeah I know, apples and oranges. This is obviously an orange, for one if you watch close enough something will squirt in your eye and make you cry. Second, it seems that nobody involved in this show has any grasp of reality. Well maybe the kids, to a degree. By the end, I felt dirty and in need a shower like in Silkwood.
I had no plans of watching this show, I just happened to stumble across a scene with two seemingly grown women screaming at each other, something about her kid being stupid because she’s wearing socks, I’m guessing socks aren’t allowed, as I’m flipping through channels. I guess I’ll see where this goes and if it’s as bad as I imagined it would be (it was).
Who knows where this show goes from here. Just another sad tale of parents trying to desperately relive their broken dreams through their children’s lives. At least it isn’t about six year old girls dressed up like hookers and paraded around in so called beauty pageants. Give it time, I’m sure it will sink to that level, I did hear the word “prostitot” in the teaser for next weeks episode. Way to keep it classy, Lifetime Network.
It actually reminded me of my sisters dance experience when we were young. I got to see more of a dance studio than most boys my age, it was on the way home from my soccer or baseball practice. Normally I would have waited in the car, but for some reason mom’s car only had an AM radio and all the good stations were on FM, plus I wasn’t allowed to stay alone in the car after the incident at the lumber yard when I started playing around with the gear knob. I remember the plus sized owner / teacher with the plus sized ego and an army of little girls covered a shit ton of sequins in tutu’s and more than enough make-up for an 80′s hair metal band, learning this odd hybrid of every genre of dance all at once, ballmodgymtapazz all for the big recital.
Even though I wish I had tried dance as a kid, I’m soooooo glad that I didn’t go to a place like that. I wanted to learn ballet, and that was wasn’t even close. It seemed terrible enough just to watch, much like Dance Moms. Zing!
* Caption suggested by a reader, much better than my original idea.
