Ever heard the idiom, "It takes two to Tango?" Half of heritage, including language, is rooted in sound sense that over generations has been polished into sagacious wisdom mothers pass onto daughters on their marriage day. The other half, some equally 'sagacious', old, geezer came up with on a whim and thought it would be fun trick to make into a rule. At times, I have a hard time telling the halves apart.
Tango, is an intimate dance, sensual, suggestive and playful. In a dance, much like most other forms of collaborative performance art, the performers feed off each other. Each playing a part, anticipating and responding to cues for timing and execution. Is this meant to be an analogy then? Takes two to make a relationship work? Takes co-ordination to get work done? As if we haven't seen relationships in which all of the "dancing" is being done by one person. Is that not Tango? Unfortunately, it still is; Bad Tango(tm).
Like any good marketing spiel, you're not supposed to read the Fine Print: "no performance guarantees."
So what we're left with is really a bit of a truism, it takes two to Tango, because well...it's a dance made for two. Hell, even the relationship analogy is off, as if most women agree that they should follow the "lead". And without following, you have less Tango and more Tangle.
More than a decade ago, I found someone to Tango with and we danced wonderfully together. But that's another story. Point is, idioms made a lot of sense back then, and why wouldn't they? I was young and assumed that everything I could make sense of was the truth and the rest of it merely fat to be trimmed.
More than a decade ago, I found someone to Tango with and we danced wonderfully together. But that's another story. Point is, idioms made a lot of sense back then, and why wouldn't they? I was young and assumed that everything I could make sense of was the truth and the rest of it merely fat to be trimmed.
Do you ever think about past relationships and how they could've/should've/would've worked out? One of the mantras I tried to live by was: Life without Regrets. I was a little naive to know that having a regret isn't simply a matter of perception and self-delusion (the latter of which, I'm rather talented at). Sometimes, life just ends up forcing your hand. I was one card short of a royal flush and lost to pocket aces .
Is there a time-limit for how long you can feel sorry for yourself? Some grand equation which can rationalize grief and loss into a time-frame for us to digest like a spoonful of medicinal wisdom? Time heals Everything? Time doesn't heal, it just makes us forget. It blurs and fuzzes memories until they feel less real and with that comes some amount of solace.
Fine Print: "poor memory highly recommended."
I didn't forget and don't intend to. With enough practice you can Tango with a memory, it takes a different rhythm and some self-delusion (see above) but the results can be impressive. After a while though, dancing alone loses its charm. "I sometimes feel as if I'm in a relationship with two people at the same time." Two for Tango, Three for Salsa. I think some truly bizarre thoughts these days. Some of this is to be expected, given the circumstances.
It's nice to have an out for everything.
