12:00a.m. 7th October 2008
Nathanael Cooper and Charis Bottcher do the jive at Dancing With the Local Stars. Photo: Chris McCormack/cm178581
In the past five weeks I have received many little pieces of news that have caused my heart to stop.
The first was when Carol Bowen, my dance instructor for Dancing With the Local Stars, informed me I would be dancing the jive.
Even I know the jive is a high-energy dance, with some seriously tricky footwork, and requires a depth of physical ability akin to Olympic athletics.
An Olympic athlete I’m not and my size-12 feet are not accustomed to any kind of tricky footwork.
In fact, sometimes the simple act of walking can prove a challenge.
The second piece of heart-stopping news came with my costume – a white polyester sailor’s outfit.
When the realisation came that I would be wearing that in front of 500 people, I had to sit down.
Then I realised I would be dancing the jive in said costume in front of said people and I had to lie down.
Finally, the news came that Mark Wilson, judge of Channel 7’s Dancing With the Stars, would be judging the event.
My dance partner Charis and I got down to business: practice, practice, practice; in, out, across, swivel, point, step forward … “ouch, that was my foot”.
The weeks flew by and slowly a dance began to take shape. Costumes were taken in and let out, make-up was done, shoes were painted and last-minute adjustments were made to complicated dance routines.
Suddenly the night was upon us and Mark Wilson wandered through the wings of the Sunshine Coast Function Centre as dancers took turns telling him how wonderful he was.
Suddenly someone was telling me it was turn and I was on the stage.
The music started, a few kicks, a few turns, a clever lift at the end where the audience on stage right may or may not have seen my undies, and it was over.
Then came the judges’ comments.
To be honest, I was so exhausted from the ridiculously physical dance routine I had just performed, the lack of oxygen to my brain caused me to forget most of what was said.
The one thing I do remember was Mark Wilson saying we were fantastic.
So in the end, 2.48 minutes of my life culminating in Mark Wilson saying we were fantastic made the heart-stopping moments worthwhile.
I mean, what else is there to live for other than the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd, while along the way helping a really worthwhile charity?
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