Living Happily Ever After
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P.P.S. To The News

Date: June 17, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You know, I have guys that are almost stalkers… it is very strange. I had this one guy that e-mailed me off my site, and thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He then came to my house in London, I do not know how he found it.” (Caprice Bourret)

After the KSL news story last week, I also heard from a man I’d only danced with at a singles dance one night–never dated. He contacted me to tell me he saw my story on t.v., reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance and detailed our conversation.

Before I could respond, he contacted me again, told me he saw my story on t.v., reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance, detailed our conversation and said he never shared personal information like I had…until he’d gotten older.

Hmmm. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was he telling me I am old? (I guess I can’t argue with that. After all, my middle son already informed me last year that I “shattered his childhood illusion of having a young mother” when he found out I’m not in my thirties–I’m turning 44 this summer.)

But before I could respond, he contacted me again, told me he saw my story on t.v., said he never shared personal information until he’d gotten older, reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance, detailed our conversation and said the next time he saw me I was with a man and walked by without saying anything. If I remember right, he also contacted me one more time to say he “guessed” I was married now.

Every message had been sent so rapidly (like every half hour), I hadn’t had time to respond to them. However, I knew what to say to that last comment: Yes, I am remarried, SO happy and consider myself so blessed to have found #5!

But what I didn’t reveal is that there is a high probability the man-who-for-a-minute-there-almost-gave-the-appearance-of-a-sort-of-stalker might see me at a single’s dance again–if he’s looking. You see, since our marriage, #5 and I actually have been to one, one night when we were in the mood to dance but didn’t want to go to a rowdy club…and we’ll probably do so again sometime!

I mean, “We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance.” (Japanese proverb) 

Right?


Before I Committed Myself

Date: September 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.” (Jane Austen)

I made my decision, I needed to tell him, but I couldn’t. There was something else I had to know before I fully committed myself with, “It’s time.”

My problem was this: how can you think you’re in love with a man, how can you marry him, if you don’t know what it’s like to slow dance with him? One more experiment was needed. But I had to be discreet.

It didn’t even dawn on me to test his slow dancing mojo in my home or his, our own music playing. With 8 children between us, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Instead, you’ll NEVER guess where I tested my hypothesis! A singles dance. (I know! After all I have written about them, I actually ended up going back to one, voluntarily, with Bachelor #5, just to see how I felt about slow dancing with him!)

It was going to require serious maneuvering though. Bachelor #5 was not a fan of singles dances. His ONE singles dance experience had not been pleasant. Thankfully, it occurred long before I went to one because he was not happy to be there, he sat on a chair against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and he didn’t dance once all night! (In his defense, that is SO not like him, I had to laugh at his hostility toward singles dances!)

So I didn’t tell him my plan. I didn’t tell him where we were going or why. I just buttered him up before the experiment by taking him to my favorite Provo restaurant. He was curious all through dinner about what was coming afterward, yet I never revealed a thing. I simply warned, “I’m sorry, you’re not going to like it, but it is simply something that must be done.”

That piqued his curiousity. As we walked to the car, he got a flash of inspiration and said, “I KNOW where we’re going! I know what we’re doing!”

I insisted he didn’t know anything. He insisted he did. He put me in the car, got in, turned the car on, looked over at me and asked, “Which building?”

Such is the price you pay when you have so much in common with someone else, when you’re so alike. He really did know where I was taking him. A singles dance. You can’t put much over on a soul mate.

But I didn’t back down. I gave him directions and we were off for the final experiment. We pulled into the parking lot and talked for a few minutes before going in. He had some concerns, but I assured him we simply had to dance a slow song or two and then we could leave.

Then he worried what he was supposed to do when women asked him to dance! I told him that wouldn’t happen; people would see we were together, and women would leave him alone. However, I guess he had enough experience with single women to worry about that anyway. We went inside.

It’s always that same, strange, weird feeling when you enter a singles dance, and that night was no different. Thoughts of, “What am I doing here? I don’t belong here!” flooded my mind as my senses were overwhelmed by the pulsing beat of old songs and current ones, and the sight of old people dancing like teenagers–or trying to, anyway. But Bachelor #5 and I pressed on.

After a minute or two, a slow song came on, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor. A song neither of us knew was playing, but it was a very good, very appropriate song that led to a MOMENT on the dance floor. You know what I’m talking about; those MOMENTS in life that are amazing while they last, when time seems to almost stand still, and their memory lingers for years to come.

“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.” (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Bachelor #5 passed the test.

And guess what? We had so much fun, we stayed most of the night–dancing every slow song and even some fun fast songs that he or I liked or that brought back memories of good times from previous decades. Unexpectedly, Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September” song came on, and although I was a pretty young teen when it was popular, it was totally Bachelor #5′s genre; we both love it and we danced to it. Looking back, and given his September deadline, that probably would have been a good MOMENT to say, “It’s time,” but I didn’t even think to. I just had the thought, “Dude, if you only knew what ‘September’ is going to have in store for you. There you are, innocently dancing and having a great time, until you get the shock of your life–’It’s Time’!”

After the dance, as I walked to the car, I had a moment of nostalgia. I thought, “This is not my life anymore. These singles dances are not for me anymore. This just may be the last singles dance of my life that I attend.” And despite my previous experiences there, despite the cast of interesting characters I’ve profiled, I had a sentimental moment as I realized how much I had grown and changed, even as a single woman, since my arrival on the singles scene July 13, 2009.

My singles experience was winding down.

And I felt a profound sense of wonder that it was, coupled with a feeling of gratitude for all that I had endured, tried to rise above, and eventually learned, as a result of being unexpectedly single in my unexpected life.

“Play with life, laugh with life, dance lightly with life, and smile at the riddles of life, knowing that life’s only true lessons are writ small in the margin.” (Jonathan Lockwood Huie)

Something I Haven’t Gotten Used To

Date: July 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m single because I was born that way.” (Mae West)

One of my fears as a single woman is that I will eventually get used to being single. That I will forget how much I loved being married, that someday I’ll forget what at this point I still remember I’m missing, and instead, embrace my absolute freedom, abandon the dream of love and remarriage and remain alone the rest of my life.

I hope I don’t get too comfortable living the single life. In fact, I hope I never get used to it. I still believe in marriage and hope remarriage is in my future.

Another thing I haven’t gotten used to, and don’t know that I’ll ever get used to, is being single at singles functions; especially singles dances.

Let me share the experience for those blessed with marriage who may have missed out on the experience of a singles dance.

Every time I walk through the door I wonder how it is that I have come to be there. How my life is such that I am in the position to be qualified to attend. That the people there are my “peeps,” all of us thrown together by virtue of divorce, failed marriage, death or lost opportunities in love.

Not exactly the commonality I choose to embrace. I have to have more in common with people than that! But such is my lot. So occasionally, I dance to it.

Then I think, “I don’t belong here.” Quickly followed by, “Boy, there’s a lot of heartache in this room!” as I survey the sad scene and unique assortment of people gathered because they’re single and lonely. (At least I assume that’s why they go to those. It’s the only reason I have!)

Even entering the door causes me to cringe.

There I am, 42 years old, being greeted by married couple chaperones as I pay my $4 fee. They stamp my hand. (Crazy, but the hand stamp sort of makes me feel like a teenager again. That’s the last time I remember going to a dance and getting hand stamped–aside from going to Chuck E. Cheese with my children!)

I can’t help but notice the warning sign posted prominently at the entrance: All divorces MUST be final! (What isn’t posted, is that sometimes women are charged a higher admission fee than men. Bummer for single mothers who are the sole parent and support of their four children. But I guess they do it to encourage men to attend? Or maybe there is a shortage of men–even more depressing for a single woman.)

“What in the world am I doing here?” I wonder. I try to hide my mortification that this is one of my few group social opportunities. “Read the sign, Andrea, and then do what you came for: dance.” I tell myself.

“Let us read and let us dance – two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.” (Voltaire)

I guess.

I walk through the door and continue on into the unknown darkness of the dance floor. As I enter the dance space, I am struck by the unique collection of dance attendees. Sort of reminds me of my favorite See’s candy assortment: Nuts and Chews. An apt description, in many ways, of singles dances!

Here are a few I’ve seen.

*The following are REAL people (although names have not been used to protect their innocence–and because I don’t know their names!)

“Mr. Saturday Night Fever.” He’s 50-something, with a head of thinning, light brown hair, worn long and “feathered,” and looking like something right out of the 1970s!

“Don’t touch the hair!” (Saturday Night Fever)

And to every dance he wears his fitted, WHITE polyester pants, flared at the bottom–apparently all the better to bust those disco moves in! And what ensemble would be complete without ankle boots? Don’t worry, he’s got ‘em!

“Can you dig it? I knew that you could!” (Saturday Night Fever)

Miss Ballroom. She always wears heels and a dress and spends the evening on the fringes of the dance floor, dipping left and right, twirling and dancing with a purpose: to turn every song, from every decade and genre, into a ballroom dance number. And she succeeds. But the thing I most remember about her, besides her dance moves, is her LONG hair (several feet long–reaching to just above her knees), swept back with a big bow right out of the 1980s.

“Long, beautiful, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen… I adore hair!” (James Rado and Gerome Ragni, Hair)

The only thing I haven’t figured out is how she doesn’t trip over her LONG hair as she sweeps around the dance floor!

The Deaf/Mute Man. He is quiet but undeterred from the challenge of not being able to hear or communicate. He asked me to dance, once, by pointing to himself, then to me, then to the dance floor (kind of like the Saturday Night Live club scene spoofs with Will Farrell and Chris Kattan.) I got the message. I thought he was just being “cool.” We headed out onto the dance floor.

He smiled and nodded at me the first few seconds the music played and as we danced, so it wasn’t until he whipped out a pad of paper and pen in the middle of our song that I realized he couldn’t speak. He wrote his name on the paper to introduce himself. Then he motioned to me and handed me his pen and paper. I stopped dancing and wrote my name for him. He smiled, nodded his head, shook my hand, and continued dancing.

Several beats later he stopped dancing, took out his wallet and showed me his driver’s license and employee card from his job; to show me where he lived, that he was gainfully employed and what he did for a living.

A little while later he did the Scout salute and pointed to himself to let me know he was an Eagle Scout. And before the song was over, in an unforgettable display, he showed me aspects of his religion so I would know of his faith as well!

Dancing with him was a memory. The thing I remember most about him is that he smiled non-stop, and every few seconds or so, would give me a two thumbs up signal with a big smile. (I don’t know if he was telling me he was having fun or that I was doing a good job dancing, but it’s hard not to feel uplifted when someone expresses enjoyment of your company and makes you think you’re doing a good job!) A good example for all of the rest of us, especially those in the throes of an unexpected life!

“I can not remember even thinking that I was deaf when I was dancing.” (Stephanie Beacham)

Mr. Cat in The Hat. Picture a real life version of Dr. Seuss’s unforgettable cat man illustration and you will have seen this singles dance participant. His thin, dark, hair starts way back on his head. His expression is droll; his eyelids are “sleepy” looking. And his mustache calls to mind cat whiskers. Reminiscent of the cat’s bow tie, he always wears a red shirt. But unlike the misadventures the real cat provides, Mr. Cat in The Hat is quiet and sticks to dancing. He’s a nice man–I’ve danced with him once when he asked me. I just couldn’t help but notice his resemblance to someone famous…

“We looked! Then we saw him step in on the mat! We looked! And we saw him! The Cat in the Hat!” (Dr. Seuss)

The Cruiser.I haven’t figured this guy out. He is nice looking and dresses normally. But all he does is circle the dance floor, walking around the fringe of dancers. He stares at you as he approaches, looks you right in the eye as he walks by, yet doesn’t make contact beyond that. In fact, I’ve never seen him dance. I’m not sure who, or what, he is looking for. But apparently he hasn’t found it yet!

“Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off. Feel free to move about as you wish…”

The Robot.I am not making this up. There is a 40-something man at the singles dances who dances like a robot (everyone from the 1980s will know the moves I’m talking about!) to EVERY SINGLE song. I even saw him do a variation of it on a slow song.

“The top two awards don’t even go to the robots.” (Chuck Gosdzinski)

The Jogger.This slight-of-build man gets your heart rate up just watching him on the dance floor. His dance moves seriously consist of a slow jog, using arms and legs, keeping his head up and smiling the entire time! Not quite Richard Simmons-esque, but quite unlike any dance move I’ve ever seen before! No wonder he has the build of a distance runner–he never stops running, except maybe to walk! (I’ve only seen him dance.)

“Jogging is very beneficial. It’s good for your legs and your feet. It’s also very good for the ground. It makes it feel needed.” (Charles Schulz, Peanuts)

There are a lot of gray-haired people at the dances, too, that have to be in their 60s-80s. Although it strikes me a little bit funny to see them out on the dance floor dancing to Beyonce and The Black-eyed Peas! (Singles dances play an occasional song by Stevie Wonder, Earth, Wind and Fire, or a country song, although the playlist is unexpectedly modern. I don’t know how everyone else feels, but I sort of wish it was more 70s and 80s music. In my opinion, it might make all of the dancers look a bit less “out of place” if we weren’t dancing to the same music today’s teenagers listen to!)

But I admire the seniors for coming and dancing to music that can’t be as good as what they enjoyed in the 1950s and 1960s. They’re good sports! And they totally disprove the old quip that, “An old cat will not learn how to dance.” (Moroccan Proverb) You should see some of them attempt to bust modern moves! I give them an A+ for enthusiasm AND effort!

I also haven’t gotten used to some of the singles dance “traditions.” Here are a few I’ve observed, although I have to confess, I have not participated in any of them. I sit on the side and watch.

Speed Dance. I don’t know the real name for this, but I assume it’s a dance version of speed dating. The men and women form a huge circle around the entire dance floor, everyone with a partner if they have one. The song begins, the dancers do a specific set of dance steps together for about 8 counts, end with a turn, take a step to the side and repeat the same thing with the new partner they’ve moved to. If you don’t have a partner for the count of 8, you stand there or move to the rhythm, and never dispair–one will come to you within the next measure or two!

“The Single Lady” Dance. When the D.J. play’s Beyonce’s “All The Single Ladies” song, all of the women form a large circle around the dance floor and take turns, one at a time, dancing into the center and doing their own moves for a few beats, before returning to the outside of the circle to watch other single women enter the center and dance. They aren’t the only ones watching, though. All of the single men are gathered around behind them clapping and enjoying the performance.

All I can say is, “Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh…” and anxiously wait for the song to be over and the humiliation to end. I have to say the women dancing don’t appear to be humiliated (they look like they’re having a good time.) It’s my problem. I feel humiliated on their behalf!

Has it all REALLY come to that?

“It’s really hard to walk in a single woman’s shoes — that’s why you sometimes need really special shoes!”
(Sex and the City)

Line Dancing.Singles dances have about 12 different line dances they do for specific songs. And they ALL get out and do them!

Although I am grateful single people have a place to go for social experiences and to relieve some of the loneliness, the one thought I have had, each and every time I’ve gone to a singles function is this: “There is NO WAY anyone in this room, including myself, is ever getting married!”

I sure hope I’m wrong.

Because I just can’t used to that, either.

A P.S. To The Bee Gees

Date: June 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ve been told it’s a small world, especially among Utah singles. I’d heard they all knew each other and were quite inter-connected. But when I first moved here, and didn’t know a soul, I wasn’t sure that I believed that.

However, at the second singles dance I went to, I already started seeing familiar faces and recognizing people. So I quickly realized it was probably true.

How funny, then, that the small world became even smaller at the third singles dance I went to. (I have been to four of them total now.)

I was alone, didn’t know anyone, and I saw a group of “younger” looking, attractive blonde women who looked to be having a good time laughing together, so I went over and introduced myself. We got to chatting and discovered we had friends in common. I couldn’t believe it. I’d lived in Utah less than six months and had already become part of that small world in a single way.

Scary.

One gal brought up the subject of dating, and each started sharing their worst date. One talked about a guy who talked only about his money and what everything cost. One talked about a guy who blared the radio like he was in high school. One talked about a guy who starved himself and didn’t eat. I started to share my story about this psycho guy who’d been a total loser all night long, but the best was when he dropped me off and asked me if I wanted him to call him again. Suddenly I stopped, mid-sentence. I put it together fast.

I asked, “Where did your crazy dates live?”

All three women said their dates had lived in the Bee Gees mountain retreat!

We looked at each other and laughed. All of us had dated the same man, one time only, and every one of us had the same type of experience! Every one of us had the same opinion of him, too: Liar. Lunatic. Crazy. Insane.

Just to clarify, we asked among ourselves, “Did the guy survive some huge fall while rock climbing–75 feet or more?” (The final Bachelor Bee Gee trivia that put a nail in the coffin of his identity. Every one of us had heard him tell that story. He had shown me the newspaper articles and pictures while giving me a tour of the Bee Gee pad.)

Same guy.

We put his lunacy down to the fact that he had survived a fall like that. We figured it must have damaged his brain as well.

And THAT is Bachelor Bee Gee.

“I’ve Gotta Get A Message To You” Bachelor #2. Two words. The End.