i listen to BBC radio three at work. it plays great classical music and from time to time updates me on all the worlds current events. i love it and it drowns out the otherwise aggressive yelling of cantonese.
as i sat and tapped away on an email, i heard the immediately familiar sound of the...wait for it...wait...waaaaait...the nutcracker.
for those of you who know me, know i did several seasons with a semi-pro (i use that term loosely) ballet company which performed the nutcracker annually. the sound of nutcracker music used to strike the fear of God, or scottie, as we called him, into me. he was one of the two artistic directors and was fantastic. he was a real classic ballet person. scarily anorexic and lived off of cigarettes and dunkin' donuts coffee. he could dance the $hit out of anything though. and although very slim, could lift any wannabe ballerina above his head and onto his shoulder for a classic 'shoulder sit' move. scottie was slightly insane and would blow smoke in our faces telling us 'faster' and 'turn that foot out - that is ugly!'. he would blatantly flirt with guest performers all whist wearing a Province Town pink crop top, which he clearly cropped himself. (side note: those of you unfamiliar with P-Town - it is the tip of massachusetts where gay men frequent in the summer time). at that age, we didnt know about sexuality and it didnt matter - still doesnt - scottie was magical to us.
when i used to hear nutcracker music, i would immediately slip into some sort of catatonic state and memory smells of cigs, very sweet heavily creamed coffee and cheap cologne would waft over me but now, it brings back fond memories of my days travelling around new england dancing as a mouse or boy or doll or a flower.
as i sat and tapped away on an email, i heard the immediately familiar sound of the...wait for it...wait...waaaaait...the nutcracker.
for those of you who know me, know i did several seasons with a semi-pro (i use that term loosely) ballet company which performed the nutcracker annually. the sound of nutcracker music used to strike the fear of God, or scottie, as we called him, into me. he was one of the two artistic directors and was fantastic. he was a real classic ballet person. scarily anorexic and lived off of cigarettes and dunkin' donuts coffee. he could dance the $hit out of anything though. and although very slim, could lift any wannabe ballerina above his head and onto his shoulder for a classic 'shoulder sit' move. scottie was slightly insane and would blow smoke in our faces telling us 'faster' and 'turn that foot out - that is ugly!'. he would blatantly flirt with guest performers all whist wearing a Province Town pink crop top, which he clearly cropped himself. (side note: those of you unfamiliar with P-Town - it is the tip of massachusetts where gay men frequent in the summer time). at that age, we didnt know about sexuality and it didnt matter - still doesnt - scottie was magical to us.
when i used to hear nutcracker music, i would immediately slip into some sort of catatonic state and memory smells of cigs, very sweet heavily creamed coffee and cheap cologne would waft over me but now, it brings back fond memories of my days travelling around new england dancing as a mouse or boy or doll or a flower.
