Showing posts with label rockettes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rockettes. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Rockin' with the Rockettes



Our family jumped into the Christmas season with the Radio City Christmas Spectacular show at the beautiful Fox Theater in Atlanta.  We enjoyed two hours of holiday music, bright costumes, and precision dancing. 

If you want talented women with Gumby-like flexibility, the Rockettes are hard to beat.

The Rockettes have been an American institution for 77 years.  During that time more than 3,000 women have danced as Rockettes.  To be considered, a woman must have a bright, sunny personality that beams from the stage.  She must excel at modern dance, jazz, tap and ballet.  She must be between 5-feet 6-inches and 5-feet 10.5-inches in height. She must be able to cook an eight course meal in stilettos and a Santa hat.

Okay, I’m kidding about the eight course meal. 

Anyway, the height variance is interesting, because on stage they appear to all be identical, leggy, 10-foot-tall beauties.  This illusion is achieved by placing the tallest dancers in the center and decreasing height out to the ends. Pretty slick, huh?

I watch talented dancers with awe because dancing is a skill at which I do not excel.  My dance floor moves are best likened to the wagging tail of a Labrador Retriever—going every direction at once with no discernible rhythm.

In the late ‘70s when every female in America wanted to be Olivia Newton-John in Grease, I planted my butt on the disco dance floor just like my contemporaries.  My hair curlicued a la the Streisand Sizzle (remember Barbra’s do in A Star Is Born?) and I had a stretchy, black pant-and-jacket get-up that would still turn heads today (“Holy cow, Bubba, look what happened to your old Corvair seat covers!”).  I was a sight to behold.  Really.

For the good of mankind I deep-sixed the disco outfit and swore off dancing.  I still twirl around the kitchen with my dogs every now and then, but they’re Labs and they think I rock.  My moves, their wagging tails. . .we’re perfect dance partners.

For the real deal, however, I suggest you stick with the Rockettes.  Synchronized to perfection and jingle-bell rocking the night away, they are the perfect kick-off to Christmas. 

Only 15 days 'til Santa!
Lisa