Not A Great Name For A Dance Place

I was glad to learn that UJ has been out dancing, because my big brother can bust a move with the best of them.  At one point back in the ’70s, he actually owned a white suit a la John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.

However, I confess that when I read his post about his dancing exploits I was stopped dead by the name of the place where he is cutting a rug.

Cementos?  As in, Cement Toes?  Really?  For a dance place?  Normally you’d think that a dance joint wouldn’t choose a name that conjures up images of lead-footed people stomping on the feet of their hapless partners.

Still, I suppose there are worse names for a dance hall.  Here are some options:

Macarena Time!

The Awkward Geek Lounge


The Drunken, Sweaty Groper

I’m sure there are others, but Cementos is pretty hard to top.


Once again the great sports analyst, nephew Bob, has failed to comment on his beloved alma mater’s loss, this time to the really evil Northern Team.  It seems to me if one can provide pregame analysis with such assuredness, one should be able to suck it up when the team loses and tell us what went wrong.  Bob’s keen sports analysis comes form his long involvement in athletics.  As I recall, he took bowling (or was it ballroom dancing?) as his P.E. requirement in college and aced the course. 

In any event, my own basketball involvement (watching games)  had mixed results last Saturday.  I watched two live games and two TV games.  On the plus side, the Blue team handily beat the Orange team and my 10 year old grandson scored a couple of points.  In the other “live” game, the White team may have fared a little less well over the Green team, though my 7 year old grandson scored twice in that game making it, also, a plus game for me.  The 7 year old’s “league” doesn’t keep score (perhaps a good thing for us) and it is a little loose in its rule requirements.  There are no double dribbles, no walking or “steps” (they often just pick up the ball and run with it), and (in both games) there is a rule that you cannot take the ball out of the other team player’s hands.  You can only guard with your hands straight up.  All well and good for learning, I guess, but frustrating for grandfathers.  The result is that I can only attend one game a season.  That’s all my daughter will allow and the YMCA that runs the program probably wouldn’t let me back in for any additional games anyway.  I guess yelling at the ref in 7 year olds’ and 10 year olds’ games is a little over the top. 

In any event, my basketball fix was off to a pretty good start.  Then I came home to the television.  My alma mater, which leads its conference, was beaten by Oral Roberts.  I didn’t even know Oral Roberts has sports teams.  (Well, maybe I did.)    Then I watched the whole bitter struggle of the OSU/Michigan game.  (Did the Buckeyes ever lead?)  I don’t understand how they lose with so much talent.  Coaching?  Matta is a good coach, I think.  But how does he allow those guys to be so flat? 

Which reminds me of my own coaching career.  A man of absolutely no sports talent, (at least Bob had bowling) I did not hesitate to coach my kids basketball and soccer teams and was even on the board of a peewee football league for awhile.  Bob can affirm that I bought all of the necessary literature on how to coach these sports.  Unfortunately, coaching, like playing, requires something more than reading “how to” books. 

My claim to fame is that I coached Grant Hill, a star at Duke and subsequently great professional basketball player, when he was in fifth or sixth grade.  In our league all players were assigned to teams by the “commissioner” and all kids had to play at least one quarter.  The mix was interesting.  There were those reminiscent of myself – uncoordinated but eager, those who wanted to be at home with a book and Grant Hill a smart, athletic, talented kid.  As a testament to Grant’s interest in the sport and his focus on the game he continued to excel in, I tell you that our team lost every game except the one when I was out of town and Grant’s father (Calvin Hill, the great All-Pro football player) coached the team.  He probably hadn’t even read those books I had on coaching.

So, I don’t know why the Buckeyes fell down in the last two Michigan games.  I hope that our resident analyst will be brave enough to provide us an explanation if he can overcome his funk from the loss.

Indy Envy

For a long time, Columbus and Indianapolis were viewed as very similar.  Both were white-collar Midwestern cities that managed to avoid the rust belt fate of fellow Midwestern cities that were built around the steel, rubber, glass, and auto industries.  Both had a reputation for being white bread, straight down the middle, boring towns.

If anything, Indianapolis was viewed as even more dull and predictable than Columbus.  That’s why some people referred to it as “Nap Town” or “Indian-no-place.”

No longer!  Things started to change when Indianapolis got an NFL team to go with its NBA franchise.  Then the city started to host NCAA Tournament regionals, then the Final Four, and now, this year, the crown jewel — the Super Bowl.  And, by all accounts, Indianapolis did a fabulous job in hosting the Super Bowl and wowing all of the visiting journalists and high rollers.  Local people — including one of my friends — were recruited to serve as hosts, ready to direct visitors to events and help them make reservations and plans.  The weather was great.  The downtown zip line had the requisite coolness factor.  As a result, Indianapolis got great, and richly deserved, PR.

So now, in Columbus, people are talking about what we need to do to keep up with our neighboring city to the west — the one that has left us in the dust as a destination for sports events.  Let’s face it — we’ve got a bad case of Indy Envy.

Dancing at Cementos

The last couple of Saturday nights some of us that work and hang out at the Windward Passage (Amy, BJ, Dana and Mark) have been heading across the street to Cementos to enjoy some live music and dancing. Last night one of the guys in our group said that he hasn’t been on the dance floor in almost thirty years and there’s no way we would get him to dance.

Dancing is always fun because you can do your own thing, the swim, the monkee, the shake, the pony, the hitchhike, the mashed potato or the twist to name a few. Of course for most of us guys dancing is not our forte and the women definitely excel in this category.

That is except for one woman, Elaine Benes below getting down to some dubstep. As George describes it “a full body dry heave set to music”. No matter what you do on the dance floor you can rest assured your better than Elaine !