step ball change down memory lane

dancers in pink

degas

I took ballet lessons and tap dance lessons when I was a little girl. I loved them both. Eventually I was forced to choose between dancing and piano, though I  did well at both, and have sometimes regretted my choice [moderately manipulated by my parents] to keep the piano. I still have tap shoes, ballet shoes and my hot pink tu-tu. I can remember my recital, my first sequined white tu-tu, the tedious chore of letting my mother work my long slippery tresses into an immaculate bun, locked down like Fort Knox. I can still hear my teacher: "point. flex! point. flex!" I remember longing to be Clara in the Nutcracker, but never being quite old enough or tall enough.

One of my teachers, Miss Arlene, also owned the Ballet Les Jeunes studio. The basement housed the locker room: rows of slipper-pink cubes for stowing our shoes and leotards, thick lavender paint on the walls. Tap studio in the front, ballet studio at the rear. Miss Arlene seemed old to me then. A trim figure and a swath of short, bushy, pewter colored hair crowning her head. A black leotard and tights. She was brilliant and abrupt. She meant business in her high heeled mary jane tap shoes. And I loved it. And wished I could have high heeled tap shoes, too.

Next to the studio sat a darling, old, grey shake house that had been converted into a boutique. Filled with Nutcrackers, called the Nussnacker Haus. Miss Arlene owned this, too, and had curated a massive collection of all kinds of Nutcrackers into a cozy little shop. Sometimes my mother would take us into the shop to look--but never touch--after our lessons. So many pretty things.

Miss Arlene retired her dance shoes many years ago and moved away. But she took her Nutcracker obsession with her. Tonightt, Conan O'Brien welcomes Miss Arlene and her Nutcrackers to his show. I think it's totally cool, even if it's probably some kind of gimmick. I can say knew the nutcracker lady when...