Pattern taught by Sonya Elmore at Brasils, May 14th, 2008. All errors my own. Go take her classes at La Luna Dance Studio.

This pattern is a variation on the "pepsi-cola," a familiar pattern for most intermediate and experienced salseros:

Man's left turn, changing hands behind the back to handshake hold, right to right (let go with the left).

Outside turn the lady.

Pepsi-cola: on one take your right hand and arm over her head, and bring your right hand (still holding hers) to her left shoulder. By three, open up for a cross-body lead and claim her left hand with your left, leading her out and across. On five-six-seven: let go of her shoulder, releasing her right hand. With your left hand, inside turn her as she comes across. She is now facing away from you. You have her left hand in your left, loosely, above her left shoulder.

Her part for the pepsi-cola:

1-3: basic step. Remember: you don't know this is coming. Don't anticipate. He might do something completely different.

5: Oh look, he's leading me across (forward into the space he formerly occupied). That lead he gave you on three was your first clue this was going to happen (even if it wasn't really). Step forward on the left foot. If he's good, he's bring your hand forward a bit more than usual to "wind the spring" for the turn he'll lead on six and seven.

6-7: he leads you in a left turn as you complete your walk across. On 6 you're in his former location facing him, by 7 you're facing away.

Flick: on one-two-three, she finishes turning left as you turn 180 degrees to the right. On one step forward with your left foot and sweep her left arm down and to the right. By two, you are pivoting right on your right foot and flicking (tossing) her hand up and to her right so that you can catch it behind you with your right hand on three. Your right hand should be in the "pizza" position: palm up, perpendicular to the arm.

The usual exit from this is a cross-body frisbee lead, in which you open up and "frisbee" her across in a free spin or checked spin with your right hand. Sonya's ending was different: make sure you block her unambiguously on three. On five-six-seven, outside turn her (right turn her) behind you. On six-seven, turn yourself 180 degrees left to face her again. This ending is simple stuff, but for the fact that she expects something else. So make sure she knows she's not coming across. If it doesn't happen, no big— just complete your turn and return to dance pose.

On the floor from 9am till 1am... wh00

Tags: dance, philly, salsa

This Saturday night I'll be at a restaurant (A) in Fairmount, Philadelphia. Later I'll be at a dance hall in Pennsauken (B).

It's possible to get from (A) to (B) in an hour by taking just two buses.

Unfortunately, it took me nearly an hour to organize the information well. Another possible reaction: "forget it, I'll just drive." That's not what anybody wants to see.

Both NJT and SEPTA have trip-planning web sites. Within their own domains, they work well— although the absence of a "return trip" button on the NJT trip planning site is a very time-consuming misfeature, and SEPTA scores extra points for the inclusion of maps in walking directions.

But as you well know, people in New Jersey work and play in Philadelphia and vice versa. Unfortunately, your trip planning sites are utterly separate, and neither takes PATCO into account. Speaking as an end user: this is a bug. Please fix it.

One possible fix, on the cheap: all three organizations could provide their data to Google Transit, which should be capable of planning a trip by the best combination of routes on any service.

I've been lobbying SEPTA, NJT and PATCO to fix this for some years now, and I know I'm not the only one. Why is there still no combined trip planner that reflects the reality of so many Philadelphians and South Jersey residents?

Tags: new jersey, philly, politics, transit

How walkable is your neighborhood?

My house scores a 92. It's not perfect (it doesn't notice the full-size grocery stores within a quarter mile of my house) but it's pretty amazing given the ambitious goal of rating arbitrary addresses for their viability as a place to live without a car, or at least get some freekin' exercise as a normal part of your life OMG.

South Philly is insanely walkable and real estate here is holding and even gaining value in an otherwise crappy market. It's a cool place yo.

Ganked from Atrios, via opadit.

Tags: cars, health, politics, urbanism

By and large I am immune to this sort of manufactured nostalgia toy. But.

If you ever cared for Star Wars at any point in your life, you need to watch this video.

Whee!

Now, check out the price tag. Jeremy (from whom I ganked the link) feels it's surprisingly low, not "oh that's practical I shall buy one" low, but low given the high quality and niche marketing. I tend to agree.

However, if someone were crazy enough to buy me one— not that this is at all likely to happen— I would immediately ebay it and invest the dough in forty hours of private salsa lessons. Or, like, Eleanor's tuition.

Of course, I'd have to sell it before Eleanor saw it.

Tags: star wars

One of my coworkers linked to it this morning

Sriracha, hoisin, kikkoman and tea
Can't save a dish that's empty from the start.
I am direct, and answer truthfully.
I have the nose to tease the notes apart.

A bowl of minty basil leaves? A lawn,
Reclining on a vermicelli bed.
Send in the prawns. There ought to have been prawns.
The body's lust is coming to a head,

Which isn't far behind. Forget the soup.
Forget the salad greens and summer rolls.
Our favorite meal feeds an endless loop.
And basted in a liquor rich and old

We light the bird, and hear the neighbors shout,
And watch it fly away, or flicker out.

Tags: monday fourteen, poetry, sonnets

I'm fairly cautious with the buxx0rs these days. I have a great job that suits my life but doesn't spew money out of the ground go-go-nineties style, not yet anyway.

This weekend, though, I splurged. Sometimes you gotta remind yourself why you live in the big city; sometimes you gotta enjoy it properly. Though in the end I wound up spending considerably less than I might have guessed.

Friday I hit La Luna Dance Studio for their fifth anniversary party. I got my ass properly danced off and competed in my first Jack & Jill competition, which was good fun and not at all the stressful experience I thought it might be. I got to bed around 2:30. Eep.

Saturday morning I ate a very tasty portobello hoagie at Cafe Ole, an excellent Israeli-owned coffee and sandwich shop in Old City. I had two hours to kill during my daughter's ceramics class, not enough time to get home and take a proper nap and get back again. They also serve an enjoyable "chocolate chai," which was not at all the cloying experience I feared it might be.

Saturday afternoon I shot pool and played foozball with xtingu and mrl24 and ms_violet, jeremym, swingchickie and the LJ-less Vince and Jack. There was Jack-related cake involved.

Shortly thereafter I met mah pal noisefootprint's Chinatown bus and we walked to the art museum, arriving just in time for the Frida Kahlo exhibit.

How is it? Well it's freaking incredible, yo; it's Frida Kahlo. In this woman's brilliantly creative life, an affair with Leon Trotsky was a mere footnote barely deserving mention.

Her marriage to Diego Rivera holds considerable fascination for me. So I think I'll have to see the movie or maybe even (gasp!) read a book.

Frida Kahlo was a lot of things but she was not an existentialist, that's for sure. The word "acceptance" doesn't appear to have been in her vocabulary. Heart on your sleeve? How about this:



Frida #2 is holding a photo of her husband as a small boy.

Then again, cathartic art is both therapeutic and... if you don't suck... beneficial to others. And acceptance can be a bullshit excuse for cowardice. Acceptance of death is one thing. Accepting your husband's charming decision to bang your sister is quite another.

Note to Diego Rivera: okay, so your wife was a maninizer and a womanizer in her own right, and she liked her drama served extra-large. But sleeping with her little sister? C'mon. That's just tacky.

Two gripes about the show, one serious, one casual:

1. The museum gives out timed tickets... and then lets you enter the exhibit as late as you want, as long as it's after your ticketed time. Which means that a 4pm ticket is a ticket for painful overcrowding. This is stupid and it should be fixed.

2. Y'know those cheesy polarized photos that show you a different image depending on the angle at which you view them? Whose bright idea was it to fill the gift shop with these?

Floor to ceiling polarized Frida paintings, and every size down to wallet size.

Wow.

I confess, though, I was tempted to grab a wallet size and hide it someplace unexpected. "Your underwear drawer," noisefootprint suggests. But now you all know, so even if you should someday scrutinize my underwear drawer, there won't be any sense of surprise. So it's just as well I left it on the shelf.

Honestly, these are pretty cool if you're 17, and I wouldn't smirk at a college student for having one of these in their dorm room. But for grownups... shudder.

Saturday evening we splurged on, surprisingly, our one and only cab ride and hit Horizons, Philly's only foodie-grade vegan restaurant. My appetizer and entree were inspired reinterpretations of picnic food. I had at least one "I'm sorry I can't talk right now" moment.

noisefootprint's appetizer was on a similar plane of awesome, but her pan roasted tofu failed to meet the life-changing standard set by the first course. For dessert, the chocolate cake and peanut butter ice cream were tasty without the overwhelming sweetness common to bad vegan desserts.

Saturday night we hit Japas, currently Philly's only dedicated karaoke bar, offering both private lounges and an open bar with a dollar-a-song policy. Although our party was smaller than hoped, we had good times. noisefootprint put me up to singing "Sunshine on my Shoulders," which was my favorite song in the world at age four. So that was awesome for the first two choruses. By the eighth chorus I was making fun of the lyrics as a quasi-apology to my very patient audience. Those Japanese karaoke tracks do run on the long side.

I had the pleasure of meeting some charming friends of hers before we realized that the enormous party taking up the majority of the bar seating contained virtually no one with any intention of singing karaoke. Which, well, meant it wasn't that much fun.

So we lit out for Moriarty's Pub (1128 Walnut Street), where good karaoke can reliably be found Saturday nights on the second floor with DJ Bob.

(Note to Moriarty's: you guys rule. Truly. But I'm not gonna link to a web site that still advertises the wrong DJ three years after Bob arrived. C'mon now.)

(A friend who appreciates the value of all of the aforementioned activities? Worth vastly more than her weight in gold.)

Sunday morning I showed up for salsa class with the proper amount of sleep under my belt and shot a halfway decent video of the routine to practice with. Apparently all that 48 hour movie making is good for something.

Sunday afternoon I watched Star Wars with Eleanor. Really a lot.

Sunday evening I blogged. Hi.

Tags: art, dance, food, frida kahlo, karaoke, noisefootprint, philadelphia, salsa, tom's life, vegan, vegetarian

Eleanor has entered the "Star Wars is awesome" stage of child development.

In her opinion, Leia and R2 are the principal badasses.

Tags: children, eleanor, geek, movies, star wars

I competed in my first salsa competition last night! Holy crap, where does he get off?

Last night was the fifth anniversary celebration at La Luna Dance Studio. As part of the festivities, Sonya Elmore threw in a Jack and Jill competition.

It worked like this: the ladies' names went in a hat; each gentleman drew the name of a lady. We had half an hour to mess around and just maybe come up with something impressive or at least get to know each other's strengths (i.e. hers) and weaknesses (i.e. mine)... and then the song began.

Did we win? Naah. Did I belong in the competition? Oh, definitely. Did I have fun? Surprisngly, yeah, a whole lot. I was concerned that stress over competing might put a damper over the rest of my evening, but that did not happen. And while I was nervous and a little sloppy, I was not OMGWTFBBQ nervous. Because, well, I was dancing and I know how to do that. I wouldn't have a fatal attack of nerves in a breathing competition either, y'know what I'm sayin'?

I'm pleased with what I did out there, especially for a first time— it took me an hour to think of a good move I know well that I didn't bust out. I just don't have a performer's dance vocabulary— I am a social dancer and I speak dance in a way that just about any social partner can understand. But, y'know, it would be fun to win. And to get to dance more with amazing partners like Luce (sp), my randomly selected heroine of the evening.

So I'm thinking the urge to compete again will motivate me to commit more truly impressive moves to memory. Finding someone to practice them with is similarly motivated wouldn't hurt. And I hope Philly will have more jack and jill competitions, more often, because it's a relaxed, fun approach and everyone enjoyed it so thoroughly.

Somewhere West Coast Swing jack and jill champion swingchickie is smiling.

Tags: dance, la luna dance studio, salsa, tom's life

Link: The Which Shakespeare Play Are You? Test written by macbee on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test View My Profile(macbee)