The
other day, after working out at the Y with Delycia, I was waiting for her near
the indoor racquetball courts, when suddenly she swept around a corner with one
of her irresistible smiles and said, “Let’s practice our swing moves in here.” “Here”
was one of the racquetball courts, and before I could present a protest, her
friendly persuasion had me on the court and we were swaying and swinging where
racquetballs usually fly. The only music was in our heads, and it must have
been good stuff, because our moves, I thought, were among our best ever. We’re
very new to dancing, and there are stumbles among our swings, but as long as a
racquetball court at the Y is available, we’re going to grow as smooth
senior-citizen dancers.
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