Dancers from Fujilina, an international group connecting square dancers from Mt. Fuji and North Carolina, will be in New York City as they dance their way from Japan to the American south. And they are eager to dance with us.
It’s always fun to dance with international visitors. Especially these because they are bringing their own callers. Come out and dance Mainstream and Plus with A2 star tips on Sunday night, October 20th from 6:30-9:30 PM.
If you are volunteering as an angel or are registered for our Mainstream Blitz class on Sunday afternoon this is a great opportunity because you’ll already be at PS3.
In this article by Harry Simmons we are reminded of the horror of the AIDS epidemic and its effect on the gay community.
The contrast in our monthly newsletter between the fun and
humor of the square-dancing article and the pain and sadness of the tributes to
those lost in AIDS remind me of a remarkable day during which I experienced
intensely both the joy of the dance and the pain of bereavement.
I was in Washington DC for the final AIDS Memorial Quilt
display in October 1989, and spent a full Sunday morning with the quilt,
locating the two panels I had contributed for two lovers (lost in 1984 and
1986), and experiencing all the old grief and sadness at their loss as well as
the overwhelming impact of the vast expanse of the quilt itself, representing
the thousands and thousands of people I didn’t know.
That afternoon the DC Lambda Squares held a dance in honor
of the Quilt Weekend and I went and
spent several hours surrendering to the joy of square dancing, two-stepping,
and boot-scooting, with the customary abundance of socializing, warm hugs, and
smiling faces. It certainly was a fun dance in and of itself, but my sense of
enjoyment was heightened by the contrast with my hours spent with the quilt! By
the time I walked back to my car my senses were those of physical tiredness,
but with my mind racing and whirling in a sense of dream-like unreality!
Finally, on my drive back to New York that evening, I was
able to calm down and reflect on such a remarkable, intense day and conclude
that it represented “both sides” of the extremes of life- my quilt experience
was a confrontation with pain, suffering, and death, while the square dancing
was (and actually continues to be for me) a celebration of the joys of living!
I cannot remember a day when I experienced both so intensely and for such
prolonged periods within hours of each other!
I was also reminded of the following incident that occurred
in the PS 3 gym one evening during the past year. Another of the sad
announcements was made about a Times Squares member lost to AIDS, and this was
followed by a brief awkward pause and the comment “It’s always difficult to
know what to say next after such announcements.” After a briefer pause, a
response came from one of the listeners, “Square ‘em up!” I was delighted to
hear that! Not only did I wholeheartedly agree, but I felt that my whole
Washington DC quilt-plus-dance experience and all that it represented had been
neatly summarized in just two minutes! It occurred to me that perhaps I should
change my will to read that square dancers would be allowed to visit my own
final resting place only in groups of eight – or in groups of seven and I could
be a phantom dancer (unless they were seven beginning dancers and I could then
be an angel!)
As a club we’ve been around quite a while. In this occasional column we’ll look back at some of the serious and not to serious articles from past issues of Times Squared.
Trapped in PS 3 by Michael J. McKeon
It was a dark and stormy night (no, this isn’t a Snoopy
novel) … well actually is was dark but the only storm brewing was inside the
heads of Michael Coan, Sheldon Green and Michael McKeon. You see for all any of
us knew, it wasn’t even 9:58 or 10:02 pm – and the three of us were hurriedly
scurrying around inside the closet at P.S. 3 trying to get everything put away
and straightened out for yet another square dance day.
Finishing before the others, I quickly grabbed my large and
cumbersome 55-gallon trash can and headed for the Hudson Street exit. As I
approached the door, I noticed the center door was chained – no problem, there
are two more sets of doors. Pull, pull, pull, hmmmmm?! These doors are all
locked too, not to worry (or should I?), there are plenty of other exits and
Sheldon and Michael C. will know another way out. Running around the building
with a ghetto blaster, a briefcase and a 55-gallon trash can, we quickly
searched all the exits – unfortunately, we experienced the same results at all
possible passageways – plain and simple there was NO WAY OUT. We were indeed TRAPPED
IN P.S. 3!!!!
The three of us, looking like lost puppies complete with
dismay on our faces, weighed our options. Sheldon suggested the fire alarm,
Michael C. just looked perplexed, and I and my 55-gallon trash can was willing
to do almost anything short of jumping off of the roof (specially in Cowboy
boots). To me the idea of pulling the fire alarm was just fine (even a little
exciting), well, except for all the noise, which was a reservation shared by
Finally, there was the suggestion of exiting through a
window. The only problem posed was how to get through the gates which barred
window access. This seemed to be no problem for Sheldon and Michael who finally
found a gate which was unlocked, the only problem being the scaffolding which
hampered the possibility of fully pushing the gate out of the way.
This really seemed to pose no problem for the two “little
guys”, however, my 55-gallon ice bucket and I were another story. Putting the trash can back into the closet
and taking long deep breathes, I managed to begin squeezing up and out the
window. Bending down, squeezing up,
sucking in and pushing, I was finally halfway through. Now my only problem was
the protruding six-inch bar which was jabbing into my stomach. I can only be
grateful for my recent return to running which seemingly made my efforts a real
possibility – and a successful one at that, as I sucked in once again and
squeezed the rest of my body through the narrowness to freedom. Whew, free at
last, Thank God I’m free at last (feeling a little like Martin Luther King) or
so I thought.
Taking another deep breath and looking around I soon
realized we were essentially back to square on. We were finally out of the
building, but now trapped a bout 12 feet in the air by 40 feet of planked
scaffolding with approximately a three to five-foot wall surrounding our
prison. Not only did we gingerly have to walk around on the flooring, but we
also had to be on the lookout for loose pointy wires, jabby nails, holes in the
floor, nosey neighbors and uniformed police officers on local patrol. The gate
between exterior of the building and the scaffolding looked to be about eight
to ten feet at its widest – unfortunately, scrutinizing these “escape botches”
only opened our eyes to steep jumps, sloped walls, bends in the building’s
structure and a host of other obstacles impeding our easy access to an
Not to dismay, as Michael and Sheldon both scrutinized the
situation and between the two of them located 2 or 3 potential escape routes. I
was only experiencing a sense of relief that I had left my great ice-can behind
and all we really had to worry about was the boom-box, the briefcase and the
small but interested crowd of 5 or so, which had gathered around on the street
below to witness our escapades.
Fortunately, Michael and Sheldon narrowed our escape
possibilities down to what looked like a potential flight to freedom. Narrow as
the opening may have seemed, my two partners in crime managed to squeeze down
and gingerly jump to the ground – and I knew, since I had already squeezed
through a similar crack at the window that I could handle this with no problem.
The only other consideration was the bump in the building’s exterior which
loomed between me and a six-foot jump to freedom. Growing more and more tired
and not looking forward to a 15 mile and ½ hour drive home, I expediently
slithered down into the crevice and shoo-ing Sheldon’s helping hand away with
my boot, I jumped to the safety of the NYC street below. (And I did it all by
myself, thanx anyway, Sheldon.) However strange it may seem to use the word
safety in reference to the NYC street I can assuredly assume this was the
general feeling shared by all.
I guess there is no moral to our story, but just a warning:
make sure the P.S. 3 janitor knows you’re “out” or “in” because if he doesn’t,
you might be “in” permanently. But on the lighter side, we didn’t – or at least
I didn’t – notify any P.S. 3 officials where the window was that served as our
escape to freedom – so if you’re ever unfortunate enough to be trapped inside,
just look for a heater on the upper level and … good luck!
Looking for an evening of fun and socializing? Join us for an introduction to square dancing. No partner, experience, special clothing, or dance skill required. If you can walk, you can dance!
Our club, Times Squares, is offering three open houses this winter, on Jan 25, Jan 29, and Feb 05. Come to any or all! You’ll learn the basic moves at any of the sessions, and a few additional moves at each of the three.
Friendly experienced dancers will be there to help out, and we have a fun and talented caller/teacher lined up for the evening. A great time is guaranteed!
If you like it, you’ll have the opportunity to join our beginner’s level classes starting February 12. Classes will run every Tuesday night from 6:30 – 9:30 through May to get you up to Mainstream level. Then you can dance with any square dance club in the world!
Come see why we say “Square Dancing is Friendship set to Music!”
Times Squares is New York’s only LGBTQ* square dance club. We welcome people of all genders and orientations. You don’t have to be LGBTQ* to join — just friendly!
Cost: $10 at the door Where & When: PS 3, 490 Hudson Street (between Grove and Christopher Street)
“I forgot how much fun it is to be surrounded by squares and dance in a full hall.”
It was all hands on deck as Times Squares hosted a Bon Voyage dance for a group of dancers from California the night before they set sail on a Fall Foliage cruise up the east coast to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The trip’s organizer, square dance caller David Mee, and four squares of travelers joined us for the dance. David offered to call, and it’s always great to dance to a new caller. His calling was challenging without being overwhelming and he has a great singing voice. We hope he returns to New York soon, so we can dance to him again.
Kudos to George Voorhis for all his hard work to make this event such a success. The hall was decorated beautifully with bon voyage banners and luggage with stickers from far off destinations. And the cake was delicious.