Valerie, my Official Entourage, and I check out the stage. We have danced all over- the Los Angeles County Fair, Pasadena Senior Center, Las Vegas, but this is the strangest venue yet. The stage is about as deep as a sidewalk and raised as high as my shoulders. This may not be a big deal to some people, but we dance with swords. Have you ever tried to trade places with someone where there’s barely room with one person?

 OK, yeah, maybe you have. Have you tried it with a sword on your head?

Alright, alright. How about two swords on your head?

 Now you understand.

We decided to be professional and give it a go.

 
I take the stairs up to the stage and make my first mistake by looking down. It’s a lot higher up here than I thought. Oooo and squishier too. Can I turn around with my sword? Well, sorta. I’ll need to be careful.

And then there’s those holes at the front of the stage. Three chunks about two inches wide each. Big enough to step in, but at least my toes won’t get stuck.

We do a slightly modified performance of our choreographies, but we’ve done similar things. Valerie and I have been dancing together for going on six years, so we think almost alike and can pick up and follow each other as needed.

We launch into our finale- a drum solo. Shaking and shimmying to the beats. We’ve managed not to lose our swords or slash the audience nor did we fall off the stage. I think they like us.

 
On a whim, I lure the evening’s emcee, Tequila Mockingbird, out of the DJ booth and onto the stage with us.

 “Shake it, baybee,” I tell her. She smiles broadly and complies.

It’s done. The crowd applauds. They enjoyed us, even with our abbreviated show.