I took ballet lessons when I was four years old. My mom remembered that I easily memorized the sequences. She also remembered that during at least one Memorial Hall recital I nudged the kid next to me when they missed something or got out of step.
I remember that I loved the recitals and the costumes.
I think the first ballet lessons were in Miss Donna's basement, but soon her dad built her a small dance studio on Wilmington Pike, right across from where Shroyer Road dead ends. The building is still there, although some years ago somebody built a funny pointed roof on it. I think maybe they teach ballroom dance there now.
I quit ballet when my mom said the lesson time interfered with my nap. I've wondered if that was the real reason. Because it seems to me that as I got older I wouldn't need the nap. Maybe I quit ballet because my mom was pregnant with my brother. Or maybe I quit ballet because my family couldn't afford the lessons.
Or maybe I quit ballet when an elephant escaped from the circus at the fairgrounds, sneaked into our neighborhood and took my ballet shoes.
Maybe Miss Donna said I was too bossy.
Maybe I quit ballet because nobody thought it was that important.
Maybe I quit ballet because I discovered rock & roll.
These days I wish I hadn't quit ballet.
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