Church Dance Memories

[Anonymous]

I've been trying to come up with something ever since KA first started this thread. I think the reason I have so few church dance memories is because there weren't all that many church dances in the era I grew up in.

I don't know how widespread a phenomenon this was, but in late 60's/early 70's SLC there weren't many dances period. At school we would have "stomps," the term "dance" being so decidedly uncool. And at stomps most people didn't dance. I seem to remember this behavior being a kind of evolutionary progression: first, there were stomps where kids danced, then stomps where only a few danced, and finally by the time I was in high school, stomps where we all just sat around on the floor and listened to the band.

At the same time, there were still formal dances at school, but these were only once or twice a year and I never went to any formals. And I don't recall any church sponsored formals at all; there may have still been Gold and Green Balls, but my memory is that by the time I was old enough, they were some ancient tradition from the far off past.

I do remember two stomp-like church dances, though, one from Jr. High and one from High School.

The Jr. High one was just our local ward, and I think it was held right after Mutual and probably linked to a holiday, maybe Halloween. It was highly lame due to the heinous music and unbalanced ratio of girls vs. boys. In fact, I think there were only two guys there.

One was Gerald, a kid considered a complete reject because of his crew cut, glasses, acne and lack of social graces. He was probably lonely and maybe I should have been sympathetic since I wasn't very popular either. But that night he became extraordinarily and obnoxiously aggressive. Maybe it was the years of frustration and ostracism that caused him to "snap." Or maybe the fact that he was one of only two possible partners for over twenty girls gave him an exaggerated sense of hope. Whatever it was, he gave off the vibe of being a hyena amid a pack of gazelles. He would slowly start, yes, stalking his prey. Moving closer and closer, slowly, slowly, catchee girlee... When the girl would look up, make eye contact, and start backing off, Gerald would run at her! Soon he was chasing girls around the perimeter of the "cultural hall," sometimes more than one at a time.

I was sitting on one of those ubiquitous fold-up chairs enjoying the Holladay 19th ward's version of Wild Kingdom, when Gerald marked me out as a sitting duck. He approached so rapidly I didn't have time to spring away. So I did what came as instinctually to me as to any mammal cornered by zealous predator: I played dead.

I just sat there with my eyes closed and refused to answer when he asked if I wanted to dance. He must have been pretty puzzled. I could hear him standing there mouth breathing and looking at me. I kept my eyes closed and slowed my breathing, continuing to sit limply and not moving. He didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything, we were locked in a surreal endgame. Eventually, I heard the hoofs, er, heels of better prey click by and distract him. When I opened my eyes, Gerald was trying to run Karen Ann Greenwood to ground.

My second church dance memory takes place about four years later. It was the summer between junior and senior year in high school and I spent a lot of summer evenings driving around with Jolene Anderton in her mom’s car. We didn’t really go anywhere or do anything. We’d cruise over to Dee’s Drive-In on 33rd South and eat fries, or maybe go a local supermarket, buy chips and try to flirt with the baggers. Once we stole some flowers from a local cemetery and threw them on the doorstep of a guy I had a crush on. I don’t really know what that was supposed to symbolize; it just seemed like a mildly daring prank.

I liked Jolene ok. We’d been “school friends:” hanging out mostly at school, not so much after class until this summer when her access to a car and lack of other friends to drive around in it brought us together. In the algebra of school popularity we were equals, not popular but not total losers either. Both tall, without boyfriends, "too fat." "Hey, a real man wants something he can hold on to," Jolene used to joke. We used to make a lot of sex jokes, basically the kind of thing where you’d laugh at someone eating a hot dog or sucking on a popsicle. Jolene had a much dirtier mind than I did. That in itself didn’t strike me as strange, but what did was the fact that she came from a really religious TBM household. Her mother was actually an early SLC anti-pornography crusader. Jolene seemed to have no problems with her mom’s activities while at the same time breathlessly confessing to me her purchase of a paperback copy of Xaviera Hollander’s soft porn memoir, The Happy Hooker, as “research for college.” In some ways, I guess, it wasn’t really that weird of a contradiction: I mean what do you expect when you simultaneously pressure girls to be both sexless and mantraps?

During one of our evenings of aimless driving around, Jolene asked me if I wanted to go check out her stake’s summer dance. I hadn’t been going to church for a couple of years, but figured what the hey: her stake included some wards outside our school zone so there would be kids there neither of us knew.

It was a typical informal “dance.” People milling around a cultural hall while some soft rock played. A table of refreshments. Some metal fold up chairs. A few parental looking chaperon types. Nobody was very dressed up. I was wearing a pair of Navy pants that I’d bleached to a pale blue with a pale blue flowered midriff top (which showed about two whole inches of tan torso above the Navy pant’s high waist). Other girls were wearing similar clothes and even the chaperon ladies, while wearing skirts, were dressed pretty casually. The whole place had a much more relaxed feeling than these kind of activities had in my ward and I was pleasantly surprised. Even the chaperon ladies didn’t seem the usual old biddy types who patrolled young people events; Jolene knew one of them from her ward, a Sister Bradshaw, and stopped and chatted with her when we came in.

I recognized a few kids from school. Jolene knew more people including some guys from Olympus High that she introduced me to: Carl and John. They were kind of cute and nice and friendly. Easy to talk to. Fun. We joked around and when they went to get us punch, Jolene elbowed my in the ribs and said the tall one was hers, “Cuz, I’m taller.” That was fine with me, I liked the quarter inch shorter John better anyway. Carl and Jolene kinda wandered off, but John and I stuck around the main room.

Suddenly the music stopped and Sister Bradshaw announced from the microphone that it was time for the closing prayer. I sat down next to John on one of the metal chairs and folded my arms and closed my eyes. It felt a bit weird going through the prayer motions, but much weirder was feeling John snake one of his arms around my shoulders, while his other hand was fumbling at my breasts. I was being felt up. During closing prayer. While I was kind of flattered by the attention, the whole thing made me really uncomfortable. Once again I was trapped, eyes closed, at a church dance.

I nudged his hand away with my folded arms, the prayer ended and the lights came on. “I gotta go home,” I told John, “do you see Jolene anywhere?” He laughed and said he’d help me find her. “I think I saw her go down here,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me down a dark hall that I stupidly assumed was leading somewhere other than a Make Out Dead End. This move pissed me off; I brushed past him and started looking for Jolene back in the main hall where a few people were still hanging around. Carl was back, but still no Jolene.

“Don’t worry,” John said, “we’ll give you a ride home.” He walked over to Carl and said something while pointing back at me. Carl gave me the once over and started laughing. I didn’t like the look of this set up at all. I spotted Sister Bradshaw and since I knew she knew Jolene, I figured maybe she’d seen where she went. “Excuse me, I came in with Jolene remember? I can’t find her now and...”

She cut me off. “I don’t care who you are or how you got here. Don’t come here again unless you intend to dance and only dance!” She gave me and John, who by this time had caught up with me and wrapped his arms around my waist, a withering look and a parting shot, “We don’t need that around here!”

I was mad at the injustice of her accusation. I wouldn’t have minded being labeled a sexy slut had I actually been one, but I was only an inexperienced virgin. Worst of all, I was trying to get away from this guy and avoid getting into what might be more serious trouble. But most of all I was baffled by Jolene’s defection. I couldn’t believe she’d just strand me there for no reason.

The next day I called her and it all came out: we never really were friends, she just needed someone she could be "better looking" than while trying to meet guys. And I had blown it by getting a guy interested in me instead.

[_Mercury]

It's target-rich. I'd rather hunt leopards than bunnies though and most of those at the dances tend to be bunnies.

Ahh, a fellow Cougar hunter I see!

(just kidding...don't hurt me nancy!)

[_harmony]

She cut me off. “I don’t care who you are or how you got here. Don’t come here again unless you intend to dance and only dance!” She gave me and John, who by this time had caught up with me and wrapped his arms around my waist, a withering look and a parting shot, “We don’t need that around here!”

Which just goes to show that inspiration doesn't come in all sizes. And what are the odds that those two guys have served in leadership positions since their teenage years?

I was mad at the injustice of her accusation. I wouldn’t have minded being labeled a sexy slut had I actually been one, but I was only an inexperienced virgin. Worst of all, I was trying to get away from this guy and avoid getting into what might be more serious trouble. But most of all I was baffled by Jolene’s defection. I couldn’t believe she’d just strand me there for no reason.

The next day I called her and it all came out: we never really were friends, she just needed someone she could be "better looking" than while trying to meet guys. And I had blown it by getting a guy interested in me instead.

And yet you grew up to become a university professor and published author. Makes me wonder what happened to Jolene.

[_ajax18]

Yeah all I really remember about Church dances was being uncomfortable. I finally learned a few social dances at BYU, but they really did me no good with the music that was played at the dances. The girl I dated from that class turned out to be a real player and to this day I don't speak to her.

Every other attempt to dance ended with, "You have no rhythymn," and frustration. I remember Mark Madsen dancing after the Lakers won their second NBA championship of the three-peat. He was really bad... Big bulky, white, and no rhythymn. I was probably as bad or worse.

One time I was told that we were having a hillbilly dance. Therefore I dressed like a hillbilly. When I got to the door they wouldn't let me in because I didn't have a tie. I would have worn one if they had asked, but being from the branch 70 miles away I was never in loop on that stuff. The Mormon Church seems renowned for having "secret" rules that they want everyone to know but don't want to admit they have out loud. I tried to pin them down on what I was supposed to wear to the next dance. It literally got as bad as asking a GA what is official Church doctrine. I'm not sure what they were hiding. I ended up just lifting my whole clothes rack into the back of my truck. 70 miles was just to far to go back home and find other clothes.

It took a while but I started to realize that going to dances was not going to satisfy my sexual urges or even help my chances at marriage which was a long way off. All I was really doing was embarrassing myself, so I quit going.

[_KimberlyAnn]

Blixa, your dance stories are riotously funny! Playing dead to fool the predator, lol! Here in Oklahoma we call that "playin' 'possum".

And Jolene was an idiot. I've met you and there's no way anyone in their right mind would think they'd be something other than less attractive standing next to you!

Thanks for sharing. I always love reading your stories about growing up in Utah.

KA

[_KimberlyAnn]

Dr. Shades and Don, are you sure we're looking at the same picture? I don't see gorgeous, but I'm quite flattered that you guys do. Well, I do see gorgeous, but only in the six year old blondie with a missing tooth. :)

KA

[_KimberlyAnn]

What's wrong with modesty?

Nothing is wrong with modesty, but the fashion shows were boring. The clothes we modeled couldn't have been considered "fashion" by anyone other than the sixty-five year old Bishop's wife. I'm fairly certain she had someone model the ugly granny skirt I was forced to wear at the dance...

craft making activities

What's wrong with this?

What's wrong with crafts? I hate making crafts! Who needs another picture frame made from Popsicle sticks and glitter glue? Geez, how many sets of bedazzled scripture covers does one girl need? I do appreciate knowing how to sew, but I didn't learn that in Young Women's. I taught myself. It probably shows in my work.

He pulled over on the way to the dance one day and just laid one on me. A big, sloppy French kiss, which initially grossed me out because he had spent a goodly amount of time earlier showing me how he could turn his tongue completely upside down inside his mouth.


You know, there are tons of websites online where you can go to read stories such as this. Some of them actually make you pay by the month for the privilege.

Huh? Blake turning his tongue over in his mouth and showing it's rather unattractive underside couldn't in the least be considered something to pay for - it was quite disgusting, actually. What's even more odd is that Blake was obviously proud of his "talent" and after he finished displaying the venous underside of his tongue, he closed his mouth and looked at me expectantly, like he had just completed some heroic act and wanted me to cheer for him. I didn't.

Hmm. my mom never taught me any of that. She was right about the girls though. I always went straight for the wall flowers.

Good boy.

This is pretty good stuff. Kimberly should start writing screenplays for Hannah Montana.

You like that show, too?! Cool!

KA

[_Gazelam]

Church dance memories.

A) The decoration commitee gettign all snotty one week and placing all the decorations that would be streaming in the air directly on the floor so they could be immediately destroyed instead of slowly throughout the night.

B) The "Come on Eileen" special line dance everyone looked forward too at each dance.

C) My friend going around with three Hymn books during the slow dances to make sure everyone was being appropriate.