Tango in NYC: The Final Action

Tango in NYC: The Final Action

Greetings Earthlings!

As my Final Chapter in the Epic Work "Worldwide Tango Trails of Devastation: A Chronicle by El Senor De Rotacion" I went to the Thursday Milonga Dec 29, at La Nacional in Manhattan. I must have been commandeered by space aliens because I showed up at 11, after a swell dinner with friends down in Little Italy. I stayed until they kicked everybody out at 2am.

The room was way nicer than the Bungalow Club here in Los Angeles, the floor having gentle waves instead of a sudden crater. It was packed solid, probably 150 people or so. All my moves got a lot more conservative, but there were some in the room who insisted on running into people. At one point one of the MCs got up and lectured everybody about line of dance, passing, cutting in and all the rest. Things improved after that.

All levels were in evidence, as well as a busload of Canadians. Their leader appeared to be a gangly gent wearing a Mr Rogers sweater vest. Fortunately the ladies in his outfit did not use him as their style guide.

I had a dance with a gal where I knew in 10 seconds that when the song ended I'd be kicked to the curb. In evolutionary terms I was the amphibian 3 places behind the gent carrying the spear. Fortunately I'd packed my chute carefully and had a soft landing. I spent the balance of the evening in most pleasant company, simply working my Native Charm and Impeckerable Manners in the tango Arts.

As the night wore on, the floor began to thin out. Finally at 2AM they called time and that was it. I rode the express subway back to Penn Station, missing my 0219 Pt Washington train by 2 minutes. Waiting at Penn Station 25 yrs ago used to be an exercise in urban terror and damnation, but is now the brightly lit holding pen with multiple feeding locations for drunken adolescents who seem to hail from Ronkonkoma.

I then managed to catch the 0320 train [so far so good] but nodded off until whoa! 2 stops past mine! Damn! Great Neck at 0400 and in the high 30s, no trains in sight until 0500. It was a brisk 4mile hike all buttoned up in a light coat because it had been nearly 55 earlier, snow melted and almost steamy. Finally hit the sack at 0515. Upside--made the flight back tolerable, I slept the whole way.

Peace Out For All My Euro-Homiez,



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