2 Sept Monday
Had to go into Bournemouth (slowly). Walking along, a woman driving a small blue car beeped as she passed. I waved. No idea who she was or if it was for me. (These days I assume so.)
Bought small frying pan which when I unwrapped at home found a gouge which means it has to go back. (But so far to go for something so unimportant). Went to shop where I had bought trousers and shirts before and took to the idea of buying a trekking pole (Not a walking man from Poland, but a type of walking stick that is a bit like a a ski pole). I thought it would have been very handy if I had had one walking back on Saturday. It is adjustable in height, has built in springs and was good to have walking home, but will probably go in a cupboard and never be used again.
In the Square, noticed how smooth the tiled pavement is and could not resist making a few turns and slides. Stopped and a woman applauded. I smiled and laughed and hobbled away.
Went on line. ‘Tweeted’, changed the website address on my Twitter profile to point to my new blog: https://beachdancer.wordpress.com where I posted the transcript of the interview and tried to figure out and arrange the look of the blog. (Too many things they want you to do and nothing seems to work right until you get lots of experience and forget what YOU wanted to do and just do what they want.) This blog doesn’t allow mp3 files. Tweeted to the lad who videoed me asking him if he would like to publish the mp3 version by putting it as a soundtrack to the video he took.
Now that I have a ‘blog’ my fliers are again out of date because they have the twitter @playadance and the now (so last week) ‘S B Chdancer’ name, but not the blog. (The art department is always behind marketing.)
Ankle not so bad, but probably won’t be dancing for another few days. I don’t want it flaring up again.
And then I think to myself, “What the hell am I doing?” Part of me has the international franchise of Beachdancer Hour with events taking place all around the world on beaches and even indoors in inhospitable climes or towns far from the sea. The music is being streamed in hundreds of countries and local dance groups are doing the Beachdancer Hour for happiness and health. And another part of me is hiding with a hood over my head fearful of ridicule and catastrophe.
Because of streaming it is only necessary to find one excited (crazy) music player – they could play beachdancer hour every hour for all the time zones of the world. Or could be done by local radio channels just locally.