It was a Friday morning. The day of the minstrel show had arrived, and I was in it. Getting ready that morning, I took out my shoes and started to shine them. The brown polish slid over the leather like a sled on ice. Suddenly the applicator slipped out of my hand and struck the cuff of my clean white shirt. It was too late to get another shirt ready in time and still catch the bus for school.
Mr. Jones, my seventh grade music teacher had arrange for the show, and had auditioned all the seventh graders for certain parts in the show. Not only was I one of the minstrels, I also had a song and dance to do with a cane and straw hat. Broadway, here I come!
Nervously I waited back stage for the curtain to rise. After months of rehearsals, I hoped I was ready. Suddenly someone handed me my props and we all sat at our assigned places. We all had a joke to put on the audience of fellow students and teachers.
After the fanfare, the curtain rose, and I looked out at the assembly. There they all were. Waiting for me to screw up, then I would have to suffer the indignity of their jokes, just like I would do to them. I, was Mr. Bones.
“Mr. Bones, how’s it going with you?
“Oh, Mr. Interlocker!” I replied. “My wife doesn’t love me any more!”
“Why Mr. Bones, what ever makes you say that?”
“Well Mr. Interlocker, every time she makes me lunch, she wraps it in a road map!”
A drum roll and crash of symbols.
Time for my dance number, and conscious of the shoe polish on my shirt cuff, the curtain rises once more. I go into my dance, tiptoeing and swaying to an old southern minstrel song. My right hand paralyzed because of the shoe polish, and Francis Kreamer sitting up front, watching my every move. Francis was a horny fellow, who when he wasn’t making lewd comments about the girls, would be eating or joking. I had to keep him from seeing the shoe polish!
Dancing and singing, the suit jacket was not going to raise an iota, if I could help it. One arm went about freely, while the other was stiff and inflexible.
After the show, Mr. Jones came up to me and said: “Nice job! But you seemed a little stiff. I thought; “Well you didn’t see the stiff out in the audience!
Please remember my buddies Joan and DD, and all those in need of our prayers.
1 comment:
This depends on what style of dance the shoe was designed for. Regular men's dance shoes have suede soles that make the dancer glide across the dance floor. This kind of men's dance shoes are good for doing turns and spins. Just a reminder, don't wear dance shoes outside. You must always put them on a carrying case whenever you are traveling. Also, brush the nap of the suede every once in a while.
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