Last season, I vowed that I was done with Dancing with the Stars. But tonight I can’t remember why.
The very kind man who married me would not want the world to know that he’s watched the previous 22 seasons of DWTS with me, so don’t tell him I told you. Sometimes he gets into it even a little more than I do, and he critiques the dancers and the judges all over the place! Like he knows a diddly squat thing about dancing? We both made C’s in our college western dance class! I think I could’ve pulled a B if I could have danced with someone who had smaller feet.
But, here’s the thing. Rick Perry, past governor of the Lone Star State, the man who graciously shook my hand at a Chamber of Commerce banquet in Muleshoe, the man who wears cute glasses and who used to live down the street from me, is a contestant. And Maureen McCormick!!!! For crying out loud, I have to watch. I just have to.
That means that I have to go back on my word, though. I’ll have to DVR it, talk about it, think about it, and berate myself for spending 2 hours every Monday night on something that doesn’t increase my intelligence one iota. “That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back,” I’ll say. I’ll go to my Monday church meeting and then speed home like James Hinchcliffe so I can watch the recorded episode with my man.
We’ll root for our former governor, we’ll cheer for “Marsha Brady,” and we’ll critique all those dancers to our heart’s content.
My favorite dancer is Derek Hough – but Mike, for some reason, doesn’t like that Derek’s sister, Julianne, is a judge. At the start of tonight’s episode, he actually said, “I haven’t missed her.” As in, oh, crud, I forgot she was a judge. I glanced across the couch at him with that “are you for real right now” look. He then did what he always does when he knows I’m about to disagree with his comment.
He looked straight ahead and delivered a hilarious one-liner. “She probably didn’t miss me either.”
Oh, my goodness. He makes me laugh so hard.
There’s a chance I won’t watch the entire season, because, really, they do go way overboard in all kinds of inappropriate ways, but as long as at least one of the overfiftyers are still dancing, I’ll probably stay glued. I mean, it’s really a little inspiring to think that maybe after all these seasons, my man and I might have learned enough to fling ourselves expertly around the floor at the Broken Spoke. I just hope Julianne Hough never sees it.
You go, Rick Perry, Marsha-Marsha-Marsha, Marilu Henner and Babyface! Overfiftyers everywhere are judging – and we all give you a great big 10!
Encouraging intentional adventure and maybe a little boot-scootin’ around the dance floor,
PS – I want to hear – are you a good dancer? Taking dance lessons now??