Road Trip

(Editor's note: it has been suggested that this blog would be more compelling with a little more drama. As a result, this entry contains 30% more drama than our regular posts.)


June 16

Rolled out of bed at 7, finished packing the car, stopped off at The Fire Escape for coffee, and off we went. It seemed like a normal trip, on our first leg of vacation to visit the Goettlers in suburban Chicago, and then: (dramatic pause) we arrived safely and without incident.

I got a KanJam set for the Goettlers, and the kids wanted to try it. So, got it set up, then Cara, Owen, and two neighbor boys started to play. If you've never played, or even necessarily heard of it, it's sorta like horseshoes with a Frisbee, where you try get the disc into a can with or without the assistance of your teammate. So, the kids set about to try it, and after a few throws (dramatic pause,) I decided that maybe we should just throw the ol' Frisbee around for a while to get used to throwing. So, we did that for a while, until (dramatic pause) it got dark, and everyone went home.
(Ed.: Wow, huh? This drama thing is really working!)

June 17

Friday's big adventure included skype-ing with Chris, going to the pool, and (dramatic pause) having dinner with some friends of the Goettlers. (Ed: Ok, I'm tired of this drama thing already.) We skyped with Chris at 11CDT(2030AFT), which was nice but uneventful. After lunch, went to the pool. Very nice, very uneventful. Back for dinner at the Goettlers, for which Ron grilled dogs and burgers, and their friends and their kids came over. Then the house almost burned down. (Ed: stop it, you're embarassing yourself, there was no drama, the house did not almost burn down.)

June 18

We got up at 7 to go to Cara's feis. This will be our third jaunt to the Mullane Healy Godley  Feis, because (a) it's a nice stop on the way to Wisconsin, and (b) it is coincidently maybe a mile from the Goettler's house.


So, off we go, Cara, Johnny, and I, and Emma came along, too, because it is really neat to see the costumes and all the dancers and everything. Johnny had his DS, so we're all set. We get registered, and we find a spot on the indoor soccer field where we can get ready. This consists of hair, dress, socks, and dance shoes. I'm actually pretty good at hair, particularly now that she wears a wig, because I just have to tell her to put her hair up in three or for pigtails. But on this morning, she can't get a good tail, so I had to do it, and it took several tries. Never a good sign...But, we got it, got the wig on, dress, socks, and ghillies. And I got to try the new shoe-tying trick I learned from a TED Talk. Ready to go.


Now, when we registered, we got her card with her competitor number on it, and on the reverse was her name, along with the three dances I had registered her for: a reel, the light jig, and the slip jig. Before you ask, reels are counted in 4/4 time, jigs in 3/4. That's all I know. Anyway, the printing of the dances on the reverse figures into the story shortly.


We waited a bit. Her first dance was supposed to start at 8:45, but they were just starting the 8:00 dances when we got there at 8:40. Johnny was, in his words, "starving to death," so I took him to the concession stand, which was above the field and we could watch Cara wait for her dance. Johnny is not the fastest eater, so of course Cara eventually came up to insist that I come down and wait with her and Emma, which wasn't unreasonable, so down we went, and as we got there, they were taking the girls up for Cara's first dance, the reel. I sat down next to Emma, and waited for them to start.


Now, the nice thing about these Irish Dance things, especially at the beginner level, is that I don't get a huge 'stage mom' vibe from it. Sure, there's a little, but it's not the norm. For the most part, everyone is there to see their kid do their best, and when their best is better than others, good for them. I can't imagine putting pressure on kids under the age of say, thirty, anyway. I try to encourage Cara, certainly, but I'm not there to harp on her or anything. "Point your toes," and "lift your knees" is about all I know to say, technique-wise, so I try to make those reminders as gentle and infrequent as possible, though I do want her to do well, of course.


Ok, so, finally they start to dance. The way they do the dances is that they line up maybe 12 girls, then they pull out two (or in this case, three) as a time, count them in to the step, and send them on their way to do their little 16-bar dance. The trick is that every school teaches a slightly different reel, so what you end up with when you have these girls dancing around in different directions is what I like to call "complete anarchy." Occasionally, you'll get two dancers from the same school, and it actually looks a little odd having them mimic each other around the dance floor.


Cara's turn. No chance of any mimicry here, she's the only one from Bell School of Irish Dance at the feis. Off she goes, and though it wasn't the best I've seen out of her, it was still good, and she's done. But Emma leans over to me and says "It looks like she wants to cry!" (Real, actual drama!) (Ed: nobody cares) So I make my way over to where the dancers will come off of the dance floor, and, sure enough, she starts to cry. I pulled her out of the crowd a bit, and she explained that she had forgotten what dance she was to do, and looked at her card, which listed her slip jig first, even though the first event was the reel. She was beside herself for a bit, but after a drink of water, I tried to get her to set that aside and just do the best she could for her next two dances.


Well, she was clearly distracted, but she did fine. The funny thing was that she ended up tied for sixth in the reel, didn't place in the others where she did the right steps. I attribute that almost entirely to the fact that (a) at her level, the judges are really just looking at form and whatever, and only at each dancer for a few moments, really, and (b) she was in a tizzy for the other two. Poor thing. But, she bounced back after the event, and really didn't let it ruin her whole day. 


After that: back to the Goettler's for lunch, then off on our 5-hour drive to Black River Falls. The only event was that I nipped the "when will we get there" questions in the bud early: "We'll get there when this clock says 6. If we aren't there by six, you can ask me again at that point. Once." Surprisingly effective.


I'll give you a break. We'll talk about Wisconsin in the next installment...