Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Those Dancing Feet

tap2.jpg

On Saturday, writer and blogger Billy Mermit is offering a seminar at UCLA titled "Exploring the Core Elements of Storytelling in Film and Fiction." which will deal with the similarities and differences of "story" in movies and literature.   It sounds like an exciting seminar.  While thinking about the subject matter last night, it occurred to me that one difference is obvious — the writer of fiction must use the written word to convey EVERYTHING, while a filmmaker has many tools, such as visuals and music to manipulate the audience.   We all know the cliche "a picture is worth a thousand words."   One glance of a movie actor can equal  ten pages of description.   Visual content seems to always do a better job in capturing our attention.  As an example — yesterday, I spent a good amount of time writing my "sexology" post.  I spent one minute uploading the photo of the "penis bed."   Can you guess which was talked about twice as much in the comments?

Some of you are amazingly good writers.  You convey all of your emotions and information through Words.  You create imagery and poetry through the English language.  

I’m a lazy writer.  Words frequently fail me.  That’s why I reach for every trick in the book — photos, songs, cheap sex jokes.

Some of my favorite blogger-writers are meeting in New York this weekend for TequilaCon 06.  I’ve been excited about this event for over a month.  Even though I already have an airline ticket, I unfortunately needed to cancel my trip, since I have some pressing matters I need to deal with in Los Angeles. 

I am very disappointed about not going to New York this weekend and meeting some of you.   I hope those who attend will think of me as there in spirit.  I hope everyone has a great time in New York.  I wish I could better communicate my emotions to you, but, as usual, I can’t find the words.  So, I guess I’ll need another way of showing you my love — through the magic of tap dancing.

ORCHESTRA STARTS PLAYING.

I rip off my clothes to reveal a tuxedo underneath.  Sophia throws me a top hat and cane.   I jump on top of my bed.  The entire bed levitates and a staircase folds out in front of me, covered with flickering lights  A neon "New York City Skyline" descends in the background.  I start to SING:

Come and meet those dancing feet,
On the avenue I’m taking you to,
Forty-Second Street.
Hear the beat of dancing feet,
It’s the song I love the melody of,
Forty-Second Street.

Tap Tap Tap Tap
Tap Tap Tap Tap
Tap Tap
Tap Tap
Tap
Tap
Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap
Tap Tap Tap Tap 

26 Comments

  1. That dance routine, alone, should more than make up for your absence.

    Then again, I’m not going to be there, either. But I was never able to be there. Maybe next year. I pray next year.

  2. Oh OH! Can I be in the orchestra!!!!????

  3. Oh Neil, How can you not go and share your talents in reallife…I think you really are just taunting your many fans!

  4. I was looking forward to meeting you…sorry to hear you can’t make it. I hope everything is okay.

  5. You, a lazy writer?! Pull the other one, young man.

  6. *sigh* Why can’t real life be like musicals?

  7. And just there? I could totally picture you doing a musical and it was funny as hell. Excellent.

  8. You had a plane ticket to NY and didn’t tell me?

    Calling Sophia.

  9. Cry, sob! As I started reading this post, I was thinking, “Yay, Neil’s blog! I get to meet him in a few days!” And then you went and pulled the rug out from underneath me. Unless this is some ploy to catch us all by surprise when you actually DO show up on Saturday… Sigh. Well, whatever’s keeping you in L.A. better be good and involve penis beds. That’s right, more than one penis bed.

  10. Pizazz and flash, Neil. That’s you. Are you sure you’re not made for broadway?

  11. Oh, Neil. So, so sad you won’t be able to make it, but I certainly understand real-life priorities taking precedence over virtual ones. Hope all is well.

    And I love that you tap danced for us. I just wish you would’ve been wearing your Captain America underwear instead of a tux. But that’s just me.

  12. When you next make it to New York, your first drink is on me.

  13. i can actually picture that, see, you’re better with words than you think!

  14. Here’s what a drama geek I once was:

    I saw the picture at the top of the post and immediately started humming “42nd Street.” As you broke out into your tapping, my feet were instinctually moving under my desk: hop, flap flap, ball change, hop, flap flap, ball change!

  15. Ummmm, can I have your plane ticket? I can tap dance too!

  16. It takes a good man to admit that a fabulous dance number can pretty much get you out of anything, no questions asked.

  17. There’s just no end to your hidden talents, is there Neil?

  18. Wow, are those jazz hands?

  19. Aw man! Now I totally can’t wear my “Neil for Magistrate” t-shirt to TequilaCon. Dammit, I used up the last of my puffy paint making that thing.

    Hope things are well.

  20. man, i’ve never been able to pull off tapdancing my way through an apology. are you loved, or what? (thank you for the mention, and if you’re not too PRESSED on saturday, come by ucla and say hi!)

  21. I’ve always thought tap dancing was classy and hot.
    For real.

    I still plan to learn to do it.

    Also, I stuck thumb tacks in my shoes in middle school so I could fake tap dance. It’s the the poor kids tap dancing shoes. It does not work with worn out soles. Very bad.

  22. “Visual content seems to always do a better job in capturing our attention.”

    I disagree.
    Words make me hot.
    And I don’t watch TV.

  23. 42nd Street is my favorite broadway musical. And tap dancing is waaaaay cool. Especially when a staircase emerges from your bed.

  24. Neil, the English teacher in me has to do this. Forgive me. You want the word LEVITATES, not “gravitates.” Really. Check your dictionary.

  25. Darnit, Neil! I was so excited to meet you! I hope whatever’s keeping you on the left coast is not-unfortunate.

  26. Thank you, Nance. I told you I was bad with words. I will change it.

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