All salsa, all the time (Chapter 2)

In my last column, I introduced you to the strange underbelly of behavior in the salsa world. As all geeks know, the problem with being obsessed with anything is that you just can’t turn it off. The same goes for salsa with me. I'm the first to say that it does seem extreme, especially for a pastime that has nothing to do with my profession. Yet it is more difficult than it seems to curtail.

When I first got the bug, I was dancing 4-5 nights per week, which consisted of a combination of social dancing and group classes. Factor in time spent watching instructional DVDs and clips on YouTube, as well as practicing at home, and you've got one massive time suck. Now I’ve curbed it down to 2-3 times per week, and am very consciously trying not to go out more. For instance, I successfully resisted going out last night. There’s a club in El Segundo that tries to pull me in with its tractor beam every Sunday. It has no cover charge, free parking and a group of salseros with whom I have built friendships, so I know I will dance there consistently. That allure is hard to beat, even if I've got work the next day.

So why do it? Have you ever gotten a "runner's high"? Have you ever been flying high as a kite after playing a [insert whatever sports/video/board game you like to play here]? Well, combine the rush of endorphins with a proverbial cocktail of infectious music, physical contact, the challenge of executing new moves, and good old-fashioned sweat, and you get the thrill of a "salsa high." I should also add that I detest exercise, as ironic as this may sound. There is nothing more boring to me than being on a treadmill. Dancing is my way of getting my cardio while keeping my mind occupied.

I went to a more "traditional" Hollywood night club a few weeks back, the kind that you see portrayed on "Entourage." You had to be on a list, scantily clad go-go dancers were displayed on a stage, and everyone was sizing each other up. Multiple drinks were spilled on the dance floor, and girls were falling down drunk by the end of the night. When I compare the two, I actually find the salsa world much more civilized.

So how do you navigate the salsa club scene? Half the time I will carpool with a salsera friend of mine, but it's not uncommon for me and many others to show up at a club alone. A popular misconception is that you have to know someone to ask them to dance. When one of my business acquaintances learned that I went salsa dancing, she asked, “You just go out and dance with strangers?” Well, yes. And it’s actually quite liberating. The social morés are different. If someone asks you to dance, all you do is exchange first names (sounds illicit like something from "Eyes Wide Shut," but it's not). Then you can have a 4-6 minute “relationship” with a partner, completely flirt, be suggestive, and nothing has to come of it. This might sound torturous to some people. I find it cathartic. There’s none of the pressure that you would have on a date, and it can all stay on the dance floor.

If you like dancing with that person, you can exchange information with them so that you might coordinate meeting to dance at a club in the future. My cell phone is programmed with a couple of dozen first names for this purpose, all indexed by the word "Salsa." If not, you thank them for the dance when the song ends, give them a smile and move on. And just like a football player, I can't get in the zone every time I go dancing, or with every partner. Which probably goes back to why people can become salsaholics: to find a connection with a person, even for 5 minutes, is euphoric. It's much like being able to watch a movie repeatedly or discovering a book that you can't put down.

If you happen to tire of all the clubs in your city (and if you're an addict, you will find all of them quickly), you will start exploring going to congresses and festivals. There is one festival that happens in Palm Springs every July that I affectionately call "salsa camp." Just equate it to a Comic Con, where all geeks interested in the chosen geek common denominator converge on a central place (convention center, hotel, auditorium) to geek out further with people across the globe that they would not usually be able to geek out with in person. There are workshops during the day, pool parties (or naps) in the afternoon, performances, and social dancing at night/early morning. Do some further investigation and you will find that there are salsa events like this all across the globe, from Scotland, Japan, Germany, Turkey, and everywhere in between. The movement isn't as covert as one might think.

Am I on the level of Cristian and Shani in that YouTube clip I posted last time? Absolutely not. Very few are. Salsa dancers come in all shapes, sizes, ages, levels and colors. There is one particular salsero named Don Baarns, who started dancing when he was 42 and hasn't let up since. What I find is nice about salsa, which I believe can be said for all of the performing arts, is that you never can truly "master" it so you always have a goal towards which to work. And so, I continue to aspire to this: