This could be the start of my life story. I love to dance! My earliest memory is in our kitchen as a young child, tapping on the linoleum floor and begging my mother to let me take dancing lessons. In her post depression frugality mode, she rummaged a pair of tap shoes that were three sizes too big for me. I clopped around till my parents finally signed me up for lessons. The classes were a few blocks up Park Avenue in a woman's basement. For our "recital" we danced in her dining room on wood floors while the "audience" watched from her living room. It was Christmas time and we wore flannel snow flake pajamas for costumes. Eventually I graduated to a real dance studio and was chosen to be the star's partner. I was in heaven, tapping away to the likes of Honey Bun from South Pacific and Franky and Johnnie. My partner Lou Ann and I performed all over our town with Swanee, our piano player to accompany us. I recently reunited with my dance partner after 50 plus years. We can still cut a rug. More to follow.
Granny Renotta
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A wonderful story - I can see (and hear) you performing on that wooden floor in your snowflake PJ's. Look forward to hearing more - maybe there are photos.
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