Monthly Archives: June 2001

Celebrity Hunter

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By Donna Schwartz Mills
© 2001

It happens when you least expect it. You will be engaged in the most normal activity, like standing in line at the supermarket, and see someone you know in the next line. But in the split-second it takes for your inner computer to match the face with where it’s been seen, you realize that it was on TV and Horrors! You’ve been staring. You quickly look away and hope nobody noticed.

In Southern California, where such events can occur quite often, the natives know you must never acknowledge, point at or otherwise call attention to a celebrity in your midst. It wouldn’t be cool, and we want, above all else, to be cool.

This does not mean we don’t get a secret thrill when we’ve had a chance encounter with the rich and famous. We’re human, after all. We just keep quiet until we’re out of range. Then we trade the news of our sightings with our friends, like kids showing off their Pokemon cards.

Like one day last summer when I brought my daughter to her karate class on Ventura Boulevard.

‘I just saw Gwyneth Paltrow buying fish!’ announced one of the other moms, who had been buying aquarium supplies at a shop across the street.

‘I saw Madonna yesterday on La Cienega,’ countered another parent, who had been busy with a remodeling project. ‘She was buying upholstery fabric and was pregnant in a belly shirt.’

As I pulled out of the parking lot that night, I could have sworn Barbra Streisand was driving in the next lane, but the car was a Honda, so I could be mistaken.

A few weeks later, I had the pleasure of hosting my 11-year-old nephew for a week. He lives in Sacramento, 400 miles and a world away from La-La Land. He did not want to go to the beach, or Disneyland, or even Universal Studios. He wanted to see STARS.

Now, as common as celebrity sightings are in this town, you can’t just conjure them up at will. They’re a bit like earthquakes; sooner or later you know you’re going to have one, you just don’t know when.

But I aim to please, so each day of his visit, we went to a place where I’d seen someone famous in the past. Restaurants on Ventura… parks in Studio City… the mall in Sherman Oaks. We did not see anyone who looked vaguely familiar. Zip. Nada.

Our conversations went something like this:

‘There’s where we saw Sylvester Stallone playing golf.’

‘Who?’

‘We once saw Kirstie Alley and Parker Stevenson eating dinner at that table.’

‘Who?’

‘That’s where Wendy saw Gwyneth Paltrow buying fish.’

‘Who’s he?’

‘She won an Academy Award for Shakespeare in Love.’

‘That’s rated R. My mom won’t let me see that.’

My friends, who took a liking to Alex, tried to help. One, who works as a REALTOR in Studio City, took him on a drive through the neighborhood, pointing out the homes of Sarah Michelle Gellar and Melissa Joan Hart. But there was no sign of either Sarah or Michelle. Another friend, whose husband works on ‘The X Files,’ got us a pass onto the Fox Studios lot. Unfortunately, not much was happening that day, so we contented ourselves with strolling down the famous New York streets and admiring the paintings of classic Fox films that adorn some of the soundstages.

Alex went home without scoring one famous person sighting. His 12-year-old sister then took her turn to spend a few days with us.

Her first night, we ate dinner at a little neighborhood pub my husband and I go to often. In a far corner of the room, I heard a familiar voice. It was Rose Marie, from the old Dick Van Dyke show, still recognizable after 40 years, right down to the bow in her hair.

‘This will kill Alex,’ said his loving sister. ‘Let’s call him.’ ‘He won’t know who she is,’ I said. ‘Just knowing that WE saw someone famous is enough,’ she said.

Carly was right. His groan made her stay worthwhile to her.

But that wasn’t all. The next day, while lunching at California Pizza Kitchen, we saw another star of an old TV show. And the next day, we ran into another.

‘You’re killing me,’ said Alex.

It’s turned into a kind of game. Since that week, we’ve spied Harry Hamlin and Lisa Rinna, Frankie Muniz, Laura San Giacomo and David Duchovny. Each time, we call my nephew, who is looking forward to his next visit to L.A. If anyone famous is reading this, please drop me a line and tell me where you’ll be. I promise not to divulge your whereabouts (after all, that would not be cool). But if we can arrange a ‘chance encounter,’ you’ll make a young boy very happy. And afterwards, I’ll have something new to tell my friends…

Donna Schwartz Mills was born in the same Hollywood hospital as Liz Taylor’s kids. That building is now a Scientology Center, which she claims is proof of her credentials as a true Angeleno. Donna is the Webmaster Mommy of SocalMoms.com, a new resource for moms in Southern California. She is also the work-at-home expert behind the ParentPreneur Club … and recently edited ‘Baby Tips for New Parents.

La Salsa Cubana Experience

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By Cherie Magnus

These days ladies alone do pretty well anywhere in the world they travel. The world has gotten used to women on their own in airports and hotels due to business traveling, and more recently, vacationing.

I’ve traveled alone in many countries and I wholeheartedly recommend it for those decisive independents who don’t get too lonesome at dinner. I’ve wandered by myself through Paris, Florence, Buenos Aires, as well as all over the United States.

But the one country where it doesn’t work out well is Cuba.

I had fallen in love with the country and its people in January on a cultural exchange in a group of about forty people. Not wanting to wait until it got too hot or until the end of the rainy season which would soon begin, I went back on my own in April. (To be sure I had my U.S. Treasury License to do research with me.) Wanting to avoid both the high cost and tourist ambiance of the big hotels, I rented a room in a crumbling 18th c. palacio on the Malecon, with a balcony overlooking the sea and the lighthouse across the bay.

The owner was friendly and accommodating, the location was fantastic, I had maps and a list of phone numbers of people I had met in January. Oh and the weather was perfect.

But I had a problem. I was an American woman. A tall, pale-skinned redhead, there was no way I could blend in as I always try to do wherever I go. It is impossible to walk down any street in Havana day or night without every man on it calling out to a female tourist. It isn’t dangerous, just not comfortable. Mostly of course it’s the younger men, and I suppose it’s equivalent to U.S. construction workers–just part of their macho roles as men. The older Cubanos’ machismo translates into courtliness.

I took a bicitaxi one afternoon from the Cathedral clear across town to calle San Miguel to deliver a letter from the States. The little old man cycled me over potholes and around pedistrians and trucks to the remains of an old hotel. Without comment, he chained up his bicycle and led me into the lobby, inquiring of several people the correct room. I could tell that there was no way he was going to let me fend for myself in that dark warren of habitacions, like a medina in Cairo. He was only satisfied when we found the correct room, which was divided into three tiny windowless areas altogether no bigger than a broom closet.

Two men were playing chess in the middle space in the front of the open door. When they didn’t understand my explanation of why I was there, the woman across the hall came over and instantly got a handle on the situation, and I delivered my letter.

The taxista was sitting in the shade by his bicycle when I came out into the sunshine, as I had asked him to wait for me. From there he pedaled me back across the square and plazas to El Floridita, where I had to change my $20 bill in order to pay him. Then I joined all the tourists drinking daiquiris and flashing their pocket cameras while posing in front of the Hemingway memoribilia on the walls. I joined a table of Belgian girls and we talked about Jacques Brel and sang some of his lyrics together. It felt good to be in a group of women.

A tourist woman alone feels vulnerable in Cuba wherever she goes, despite the policeman on nearly every corner day and night. She can’t lose herself shopping, because there isn’t any. People-watching on the Malecon or Prado is an open invitation to be hassled or hustled.

She’s more comfortable in the bars, lobbies and dining rooms of the tourist hotels because there is a security person for every few guests. But then she’s just meeting other tourists, and probably those from her own country. Cubans aren’t allowed in the tourist hotels, except in the public areas by special invitation.

This is the one country where I suggest going in a group. Especially if you are a dancer like me. In Buenos Aires I boldly go alone each night to the tango halls where I dance until dawn with no problems. There is a strict formal code of behavior there, and in my six trips to Argentina, I never once had any sort of difficulty.

Cuba doesn’t work like that. There are very few salsa clubs per se, and I wouldn’t recommend a woman entering them alone, hoping to dance, as she might in Buenos Aires.

The Cubans dance all the time, but informally at parties and casual gatherings. They can’t afford the clubs which are very expensive. And so it’s mostly other tourists who are at the clubs anyway.

So unless you meet local people who invite you to their fiestas, a Havana trip will not usually provide hours of salsa dance experiences.

Live musical groups perform in bars and cafes everywhere so you can listen to some great stuff, but in order to dance, you must bring your partner.

Women who want to dance salsa or to study folklore and religion or education or medical care in Cuba will learn more and have more fun in a group of like-minded individuals.

And as a matter of fact, I will be taking a small group of salsa dancers from Los Angeles in November 2001 to study Cuban music and dance, “The Salsa Cubana Experience.” Now that I know the ropes, I want to share what I learned about where and how to dance in Havana with other dancers, and to have fun in a mixed group of Americans and Cubans together. Also to help foster understand between our two cultures, where there is so much misunderstanding and misinformation. Let the music and dance bring us together.

With degrees in English, Dance, and Library Science from UCLA, Cherie has published many articles in professional journals and magazines. Her solo travels to Europe and Latin America have inspired several pieces published in Skirt!, PassionFruit, Moxie, JourneyWoman, Dancing USA, GoNomad, Open Spaces, Porthole, The Cusco Weekly, the-vu, and various online magazines. She was the dance critic for the Cerritos News in Orange County, California before moving to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. She is currently at work on a novel situated in France, when she’s not out dancing. Follow her blog at http://tangocherie.blogspot.com/

Virtues of Soy. A review of the book by Monique N. Gilbert

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By Jeffrey the Barak

In May 2001 an article by Monique N. Gilbert appeared in the-vu outlining Six Ways Soy Benefits Your Health

Monique just appeared in the-vu’s inbox one day with this short and straight to the point feature introducing us to the beneficial properties of soy as a food.

Monique sent me a copy of her book Virtues of Soy for review and I have to say, the claim on its cover that it is truly the only comprehensive soy reference manual you will ever need, is true.

There are other books about soy, and other cookbooks featuring soy, but this book is concise and to the point. It contains well researched and well written information about soy, and then, quite suddenly at the start of chapter 9, it’s a cookbook!

The first eight chapters cover in an easy to read manner, the history of soy as a foodstuff, the nutritional and beneficial compounds, the relationship between soy and the control of health concerns such as heart disease, strokes, high cholesterol, cancer, osteoporosis, menopause, diabetes, kidney disease and more.

Considering the high cost of healthcare and the more important consequences of poor health today, it makes sense to encourage the widespread use of soy as a foodstuff and this book makes the reader eager to do just that.

In an overview of soy foods, the author describes the various kind of food items made from or consisting of soy. Some, such as tofu are widely known and used, whilst others are generally only known by those who partake in Asian cuisine or commercial health food.

After reading just this chapter, (a five minute task) you will know as much as anyone what varieties of soy foods are available and where to look for them.

The first eight chapters alone would make this book a worthwhile addition to any collection, but the next eight chapters are composed entirely of recipes. As a cookbook it’s a delight to use.

Almost all of the recipes in the book are simple enough for almost anyone to follow successfully, and yet the variety of dishes covers the entire meal spectrum.

Everything from breakfast to salads to soup to pizza to entrees to sauces to deserts is covered. There are over 169 complete recipes here.

You could survive healthily on nothing but items from this cookbook for the rest of your life and never get bored, never crave anything else, never get fat and never consume any more animal products including dairy. And you could do all of this without any worry of missing any essential nutritional elements from your diet.

To sum up, if you need a book about all things soy, and an easy and fun way to bring a lot of soy into your diet, you couldn’t make a better choice than Virtues of Soy!

Virtues of Soy: A Practical Health Guide and Cookbook” by Monique N. Gilbert (Universal Publishers, $19.95).

Direct links to buy the book from Amazon or Borders or Barnes and Noble can be found at http://www.geocities.com/virtuesofsoy/ where the author also offers a PDF downloadable version for $9.00 (for those with computers in the kitchen.)

Ron Montez and Dan Radler

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The Coast-to-Coast Meeting of the Champion Minds:
Ron Montez and Dan Radler

By Kim Knode

Just So Stories author and Nobel Laureate in Literature Rudyard Kipling says,  “East is East, West is West and never the twain shall meet.”  However, when it comes to the how-tos of garnering championship titles in DanceSport, two top American champion dancers and adjudicators agree.

Here are some insights from interviews at the residence of seven-time U.S. Latin champion, Ron Montez in San Diego and exchanges via e-mail and telephone with Dan Radler out of his Watertown, Massachusetts studio. (Radler is a former Ten-Dance champion and representative of the U.S.A. at the World Championships.)  Next time you gasp at the breathtaking performances of the dancers or the unbelievable results of a competition, you might keep in mind the tenured professionals’ tips.

Montez, a seven-time U.S. Latin Champion (1979-1985) and host of  (possibly the longest series on television), PBS Championship Ballroom Dancing, says that when evaluating competitors as a judge, “You do a certain amount of scanning and specific looking as necessary.  But you end up with a very quick opinion – based on your experiences and expectations.”

Radler explains that, “At least six couples are being judged simultaneously. So the criteria that a judge might choose to consider are actually too numerous to examine individually in the brief time allotted.  The experienced judge, having seen and studied dancing at all levels, can quickly assess the performance of the couples.”

I ask Montez about the in-your-face performers who wiggle and gesticulate in front of judges.  Karla Montez, who teaches along with her husband on the Anyone Can Dance instructional videos, starts laughing. “It’s obnoxious!” she says.

I nod my head in vigorous agreement as Montez declares, “Oh, I don’t think of it that way.  I just see it as part of their performance.  I think of myself as invisible.  I know they are not doing it totally for my benefit. There are a bunch of other judges around the floor.”

Karla replies, “I think they are doing it for the judge’s benefit.” She waves her arms about and says, “Look at me! Here I am!”

Karla and I giggle as Montez seriously states, “But if you are a judge and a couple is directly in front of you, rarely do you evaluate them.  I won’t evaluate a couple if they are too close to me. I need to get a good perspective.  I might be evaluating a couple whose backs are turned to me across the floor.” The former champion pauses and grins, “Couples have no idea when they are being looked at.”

To improve the chances of high marks, when the adjudicator is glancing at a pair of dancers, Radler reminds his protégées that, “Persistent practice of postural principles promises perfection.” The New Englander reiterates (what my statuesque aunt always told me as an adolescent): “Good posture makes you look elegant and exude confidence.”

Montez agrees with Radler and says that “crooked bodies” definitely get low marks on his score sheet.  Conversely, points pile up quickly for “a couple who is technically good and has good footwork, balance and all the technical aspects.”

Radler concurs, “foot and leg action is important.”

I ask for examples.  The Ten-Dance champion answers without hesitation. “The stroking of the feet across the floor in foxtrot to achieve smoothness and softness…In tango – the deliberate lifting and placing of the feet  to achieve a staccato action.”

Radler adds that another crucial aspect “In smooth dancing is the stretch of the woman’s body upwards and outwards and leftwards into the man’s right arm to achieve balance and connection with his frame as well as to project outwards to the audience.”

Montez also maintains that, “The man’s role is to frame and to circle and to present his partner. For that reason, I dislike men’s see-through shirts intensely.” He continues, “Those sheer shirts where they show their nipples. I think it’s disgusting. It’s like look at me!”

His wife (and mother of three Montez children) makes the point, “It takes away from the masculinity that we need to keep for other viewers looking at this sport.”

I ask Montez about ladies’ costuming. “Nowadays, the Latin dancers may wear a mini skirt or they may wear some other kind of string thing. I like to see some type of skirt because it adds to the movement as the lady spins and whips around.”

Karla adds, “When Latin (competitions) started, women wore skirts so when she turned the skirt would continue.  Now it’s not the skirt that continues so there is no beauty.”

Montez maintains it is old-fashioned common sense when it comes to costumes. “If a girl is wearing a low back (outfit) but she doesn’t have an attractive back, it’s not a wise decision to wear that dress.”

“Costuming, the flow of choreography as well as intangibles as how a couple ‘look’ together and whether they ‘fit’ emotionally all have an affect on the judge’s perception and markings,” states Radler.  (Of course, crucial elements like timing and rhythm adherence are always figured in. As Radler says, “The music is boss.”)

Subtle and not-so-subtle signals sent from the dance floor are important.  “I don’t like purely physical dancing where they are out there trying to – I don’t know – kill each other!” says Montez. “Overly physically demonstrating one’s craft to the judges is not necessary.” He smiles and says, “You shouldn’t be tired after watching them. The appearance – should be one of ease.”

Radler likes to see “Power and energy.” With enthusiasm he states, “Energy is exciting to watch! I’ve noticed that, in a jive, it always seems to be the most energetic couple that wins this dance.” However, he does warn DanceSport competitors that, “the energy must be controlled, not wild.”

The Massachusetts coach continues, “It goes hand in hand with presentation.  Does the couple sell their dancing to the audience?  Are they exuding their joy of dancing and confidence in their performance?”

Montez also prefers, “couples who – along with technical mastery – have a good rapport . And who genuinely seem to be enjoying dancing with one another.” The seven-time champion contemplates for a second and continues. “It’s a very delicate balance. Some are too much into one another – like a social dance.  And some are too into performing and doing a ham dance!”

The champion declares that at the top of his list are, “performers who are able to convey their love of dancing.” And why not? From East to West, whether we are sitting on the sidelines or quickstepping our hearts out on the dance floor, love is the reason why we participate in DanceSport.

Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.

A visit to the home of Ron Montez

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Living and Dancing in San Diego with the Champions
A visit to the home of Ron Montez

By Kim Knode

America is most familiar with Ron Montez as the co-host of the popular PBS series, Championship Ballroom Dancing. In the international DanceSport (ballroom dancing) community, the seven-time U.S. Latin champion is not just a handsome face on television. Montez is the “back by popular demand” expert at competitions and in dance schools due to decades of experience as a dancer, coach and adjudicator.

The retired competitor is frequently invited to fly away from his twenty-year San Diego sanctuary to judge DanceSport competitions and conduct classes in the rhythm dances (distinguished by a controlled wiggle called Cuban hip motion) such as salsa and cha-cha. For instance, this summer, Montez will pack his bags to join fellow ballroom celebrities at dance camps for adults. (The sell-out camps are a far cry from scout outings into the woods.) Spacious ballrooms sparkling with chandeliers in places seductive like Las Vegas to sedate like Provo, Utah see top talent gather to teach dance fans at premium prices.

In addition to the airfare and admission into the dance camps, DanceSport enthusiasts will often pay eighty-five dollars and up for a private one hour session with Montez. In addition to waltz workshops and such, students often get a chance to compete and perform, which adds up to adjudication dollars for experienced judges like Montez. However, as lucrative as the events outside of Southern California may be, San Diego’s dancing man prefers to stay close to home.

So DanceSport competitors from all over follow their road maps and dreams of golden trophies to visit the wizard of Latin dancing in San Diego. (Traffic may increase with the approach of the possible entrance of DanceSport – ballroom dancing – into the 2008 Olympics.) If the dancers are lucky enough to garner an appointment, the Champion Ballroom Academy on Fifth Avenue is where they generally meet Montez. (In 1995, the school was voted as the best dance studio in America. The owner, Mary Murphy is also a U.S. ballroom dance champion.)

After weeks of telephone tag, I am the fortunate one who is granted an early April sixty-minute interview at the champion’s home. Montez promises to squeeze me into his schedule on a lunch break away from his duties as judge at the Southwestern Regional Dance Championships held at the Holiday Inn San Diego-On The Bay.

Gazing out of the taxicab window en route from the San Diego Amtrak Station to the Montez residence, I see a myriad of streets all starting with El Camino (meaning “the way” in Spanish). Blooming hydrangeas, foxgloves and other botanical delights spring forth from meticulously manicured gardens. Houses stand proud and pretty with coats of freshly painted pastel pinks, yellows and blues. The sky is filled with puffy white clouds. Is this paradise? (I am knocked back to reality as the East African taxi driver tells me of his escape to San Diego for a better life.)

Arriving at the address on my post-it, I cut an amicable deal with the cabbie. (He agrees to wait an hour and take me back to the train station.) I knock on the door of the picture postcard house and am greeted by Karla Montez, a former Jazz dancer. Her form-fitting black top and pants accentuates her trim figure. She is a mother of three and still looks fit as a fiddle. (Perhaps it is the running after her four year old that burns the calories. Or maybe it is all cha-cha and mambo she does with her husband in their video series, Anyone Can Dance.)

She graciously accepts my arriving early for the interview. With a smile, Karla directs me to wait on one of her Easter egg blue couches. Heading into the kitchen, she says, “Ron should be home pretty soon.”

Framed family photos smile back at me from every corner. My eye wanders from a baby boy wearing only his daddy’s necktie to a tanned Montez family with leis around their necks looking like they are enjoying a Caribbean cruise.

I follow the trail of pictures of the Montez children at different ages to a placard studded with red hearts that reads, “One hundred years from now, it will not matter what kind of car I drove…Or how much money I had in my bank account…” The last line reads, “But the world may be a little better because I was important in the life of a child.”

I do not see any trophies or award certificates or even dancing photos of the champion. I only see that Ron and Karla Montez are champions of the family. My impression of stepping on to the set of The Donna Reed Show is enforced as Karla comes out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked blueberry muffins!

She sets her goodie laden tray on the (polished) coffee table and pries open the lid of a rose red tin. Karla says, “These homemade chocolates were a gift to us. I can’t eat them all!” She starts to offer me one of the scrumptious morsels but spies a dark chocolate that has been sampled. Removing the confection from the mix, Karla laughs. “Looks like a Ron!”

I decline the chocolates but not Karla’s blueberry feather light muffins. In between bites, I comment on the tranquility in her home. She grins and explains that her four-year old son is with a trusted sitter. Also, as a gift to her husband, she turns off the music before he comes home. “Ron likes to listen to talk radio because he hears music all day. And I’m hearing the kids talking all the time so I’m always turning off the talk radio and turning on music.”

“What kind of music?” I ask.

Karla chuckles and answers, “With two kids in the house, I like anything that is calm! I usually listen to easy listening stations like 96.5.”

The quiet is broken with a barking dog. Montez makes a grand entrance into his home. His stride is strong and sure. Montez carries an aura of a man who is comfortable in the spotlight.

Montez looks exactly like the man I see on PBS with raven black hair and eyes sitting with perfect posture opposite actresses like Sandy Duncan and Barbara Eden who effervesce with “oo”s and “ah”s while competitors razzle-dazzle with flashy moves and rhinestone studded costumes. (Montez, in contrast to his female co-hosts, provides commentary in an even tone on the footwork and choreography of the dancers dueling for the title of champion.)

As Montez settles himself on the sofa, I ask him about his history. The dancer who was an undefeated Latin dance champion for seven years explains, “When I finished high school, I was kind of up in the air. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. My sister had the bright idea of getting me involved in some kind of ballroom dance teacher training course. My sister and brother-in-law were Arthur Murray instructors in Arizona.”

Cracking a small smile, he continues, “So I said OK. I didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.”

But when Montez started the training with his first teacher, Nancy Elliott, he felt a surge of enthusiasm. “Nancy presented ballroom dancing to me in such a way that it was very appealing. She presented the masculine and feminine roles in a way that were right and well balanced to me.”

I ask him to translate his statement. “Well the man’s role – what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to look like, the way he was supposed to conduct himself, the way he was supposed to move versus the female. You had a secure position of what you were supposed to do – either sex.”

Montez confesses that, “Of course, in the beginning I didn’t know anything about teaching – a little bit about dancing maybe. But I loved dancing. And I got hooked!”

And Arthur Murray students got hooked on Montez’s magic touch in the classroom. He acknowledges that, “I was teaching all the time…The lessons just sold themselves!”

After years of playing dance professor, however, he found himself “burnt out.” Montez says that, “I hadn’t been receiving a lot information. I was hungry for any kind of information – even dance information.” So he seized an opportunity to attend Brigham Young University. “For a while it gave me a chance to soak up something,” he says.

Book learning was not the only thing Montez absorbed at BYU. “I did my first competition in 1972 in ballroom while I attended Brigham Young.” Like a scientist reciting the results of an experiment, he recalls, “It was my first competition. And I got a taste of competition and the thrilling aspect of it. I thought that it was motivating and a lot fun.”

How did he place? “I won the Rising Star Division and was like fourth or fifth in the Professional Division. I liked being successful, being able to express myself and have people appreciate it.”

His joy carried him into seven continuous United States Latin Champion titles from 1979 through 1985. He retired in 1986 from competition dancing. Nearly a decade later he began a new challenge when he exchanged marriage vows with Karla.

Montez declares that, “Family is the biggest challenge of all. I mean dancing is attainable if you just do it!” With conviction he continues, “But you are not confronted with the challenge and the problems. You also don’t get the fulfillment of home and family life.”

As a father of three, he still marvels at, “My family interacting with one another and learning and growing and becoming more responsible – that development is such an amazing thing.”

As parents and as dance professionals, I ask how the couple feels about DanceSport training and ballroom dancing in the Olympics.

Karla replies with conviction. “There are not enough ballroom dance workshops – especially in San Diego.” She adds, “Ashley (her teenage daughter from a former marriage) used to compete. Ron choreographed her (award-winning) Latin routines. But her partner moved away to Boston. It’s hard to find young boys who dance.” (Ashley is now a member of a cheerleading competition team.)

Besides the lack of an infrastructure of ballroom schools for children in America, Montez says, “there is the perception problem. Most Olympic officials think ballroom dancing is a social thing for nightclubs – nothing to do with athletics.”

He adds that, “I would welcome ballroom dancing as an Olympic sport. Young people would flock to dancing.” Montez maintains, “Ballroom dancing is healthy – you learn cooperation and you get exercise. You concentrate on the music and you work with another person on certain technical aspects together.”

Montez looks at his wife and she nods her head in agreement. He continues, “You participate with a person of the opposite sex with music as your medium.” Montez adds that ballroom dancing allows for a natural development of a relationship over time. Interaction is not forced and can fully develop as dance instruction takes the foreground.

The promulgation and entry of DanceSport into the Olympics, however, does not keep the former champion awake at nights. Uppermost in the mind of Montez is his family. “Dancing is an instrument I use to provide for my family. Family is my focus now.”

Besides spending time with his family, what are the former Latin champion’s favorite pastimes? Montez smiles. “Well, I enjoy reading biographical books. Right now, I am reading everything I can about the life of Jesus Christ on this earth and his death.”

Anything else you like to do? I ask.

Karla mimes a man sprawled out on the sofa. Montez admits that, “Yes. I like to watch football.”

It is reassuring to know that the former champion who moves like a Greek god on the dance floor partakes in the mortal pleasures of a San Diego Chargers game! And the Chargers may not come close to championship trophies this season!

However, as I walk away from my interview with Ron and Karla Montez and I hear the taxi honk his horn; a muse whispers in my ear. “After climbing to the top of Mount Olympus, you get a view of the bigger picture.”

Kim Knode’s interview articles focusing on artists, celebrities and dance champions have been published in various print and on-line publications.

Fear and Clothing in San Diego

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By S.D. Craig

How do we get a hold of the same store names those models shop at, the ones with fuller figures who wear those colorful, sexy and slinky outfits that stretch and work for them?

Make me love it. Go on, I dare you. I loathe it.

The aisles of clothing in plus-sizes, most of which Lane Bryant and Dress Barn might think are smart, I find most matronly. And one wonders why I so hate to shop.

How do we get a hold of the same store names those models shop at, the ones with fuller figures who wear those colorful, sexy and slinky outfits that stretch and work for them? Okay, I’ll pay closer attention next time I pick up my Mode magazine. They are out there. The downfall might me we have to pay four times the price that thin people do for their clothes due to excess material. Yikes.

It’s not even easy to ask about stores that cater to the ladies at large. When I find a new one, I’m ecstatic. Then I’m thinking, why can’t I go in Charlotte Russe where I USED to shop. Because, nothing there is over a size twelve, Chatterbox. That’s why.

Can’t you just picture this in Dress Barn?

“Hey Vonda, could you pick me up another purple dress in a size …”

“What size, Sherri? I couldn’t hear you, you mumbled,” sweet, tiny and helpful Vonda asks.

No, that just doesn’t work for me. As a larger person, I’ve had my share of public (and private) humiliations, thank you very much. I shop alone.

And I never want to know certain things, like what I look like compared with that itty-bitty friend. Does the car tip to my side and everyone driving behind is noticing that fact?

Life means different things to us. Will the metal street grate lids make a loud noise when I walk over them? Can I stand another airplane ride for five hours that is so difficult and painful? Will the plastic lawn furniture that’s so popular today break when I sit in it at a family gathering? Can the seatbelt fit around me without being stretched to the max while biting into my breasts and mid-section?

Oh, and my fear. Yes, the attitudes of the public, medical field and press towards those of us who are not razor thin and not existing on saltine crackers and lettuce. And Metabolife. A sad, sad situation.

It’s no wonder we worry ourselves nearly sick about doctor appointments and annual physicals. Many go without due to their size, their embarrassment and concerns about the doctor and his opinion of them. Having just gone through the yearly physical, I can relate. Yet again.

But this time, nobody said “lose weight, Sherri.” I was told I was doing everything right. When I complained about not minding exercise as a rule and having no problem sticking to that, I mentioned that I enjoy eating. The wrong things. My doctor kindly told me (and only when I mentioned my problems trying to lose pounds) about a two-year study of patients who went vegetarian, eating only fruits, vegetables and fish. They did this for other health reasons like diabetes and heart problems, and in doing so, lost down to their normal weight. A real bonus.

Normal weight seems so far away. It’s like Mars or Jupiter. Light years from me.

In the pursuit of light years, my husband and I are now eating almost strictly a vegetarian diet. Maybe someday, there won’t have to be fear and loathing. Or c-loathing.

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

1-900-SexWithYourHusband

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By S.D. Craig

“What, honey? You’re going fishing again? When is that? Oh, tonight? Wow.” A pout replaces her former frown.

“Yeah, me and the boys heard about some trout-filled streams up in Cuyamaca. Gonna go catch some of that good stuff for you to cook up. Be gone the weekend. Then I’ll come back and we can cook up some good lovin’, okay, babe?” Hank smiles real big.

She bites her tongue. He bites her neck and does what he thinks is a sexy growl, then packs a duffel bag while she hovers. She whines, he persists.

The beat-up old truck pulls out of the drive and the gravel crunches loud enough to wake the birds. She fires up her computer and finds a search engine with a speed that would’ve surprised her old man.

Oh, what’s this? A phone sex site? 1-900-SexWithYourHusband? Whoa.

She nervously dials it up. Static meets her ears.

“Hell, hell-o?”

“1-900-SexWithYourHusband. How can I help you?” A professional voice answers with just a hint of pity. Or was that scorn?

Silence.

“Hello. Are you there?”

Silence.

“Ma’am. It’s okay to speak. Can I help you with something? Perhaps a special that we’re running? What’s your name?”

“Um, er, yeah. Karen.”

The 900 employee continues. “We’re running a special, like I mentioned, and –”

“Okay.” She gulps and sips her Miller Lite.

“Alright Karen, let’s get started.” A pause. “Here we have the husband, on our first special, telling you he has to work late. That runs ten bucks.”

“No, er, no, I don’t think so.” Another sip. “Go on,” she says in a timid voice.

“Yes, well, then we have, for fifteen bucks, a grope in the kitchen from your husband. Does that interest you, Karen?” the 900 person asks.

“No, I get those all the time. What else?” She chokes on the next chug of beer. “Sorry.”

“Okay, that’s okay. We can move up to the twenty dollar fee for Wall sex.” She now realizes the 900 employee is not a woman with a husky voice but a male. She listens in horror as he clears his throat.

“Wall sex? I, ah, –”

“Yes, that is when your husband presses you against the wall, both of you fully-dressed, as he grunts and fumbles and passes gas accidentally.”

Karen hesitates, then, “Wouldn’t that get me a smaller fee? The gas?”

“No, I’m afraid not. You can go up to twenty-five bucks and get the Wall Sex Plus. Your husband is in a stained undershirt and his boxers as he wraps your legs around his waist against the wall,” the employee offers.

“Does he still have gas though?”

“Oh. That. Yes, but for thirty we do something different. It’s called Real Married Sex. Does that seem like a good choice, Karen?”

“That sounds more like it. Tell me.” She notices her beer’s about empty and tucks the phone under her chin as she opens the fridge for another.

“Real Married Sex starts out with the husband actually showering, brushing his teeth and talking to you with toothpaste all over his face as he proceeds to make a mess all over the bathroom –”

“A mess? And I’m paying for this?” she asks, appalled.

The 900 guy coughs. “Ah, yes. Wait, there’s more. He comes out scratching his balls, asks you if you’d like to fool around. You change into something slinky and he’s asleep when you return.”

“Wow, and I pay for this?” Karen chugs some more of the golden fluid that seems better than sex by now.

Karen is asked to wait on hold. The music playing is about some guy being too sexy for his shirt. She starts to dance around, feeling surprisingly perky.

“I’m back and I apologize for the delay. It’s apparent you need the more expensive specials. We have two left. For forty bucks, we’ve got the Wanna See My Tool deal.”

Karen chokes on her beer. “Uh, what?”

“Yes, the husband flashes his wife as she’s doing laundry in the garage. While she strips to have garage sex on the truck seat with him, he asks her where he left his screwdriver, by the way.” The 900 man pauses again.

“Hell, he asks me that all the time. I’m still waiting for the screw.” Karen hiccups and waits.

“I understand completely.”

“How could you, you son-of-a-bitch, you’re a man!” Karen realizes that she hollered and apologizes. “I’m so sorry. Guess I’m a little tense.”

“Karen, that’s alright. Just hang in there with me. We’ll find you something. Perhaps the My Husband’s a Hunk deal will work out for you,” he says. “This is fifty bucks but well worth it.”

“Oh yes. What’s that?” Karen polishes off the rest of her beer and grabs another as she twists around in the phone cord. “Oh wait, ah, hold on -”

“Karen? Is everything okay?” The 900 guy sounds concerned and she laughs.

“Yeah, I just frickin’ got caught up in the phone cord. It’s okay. Go on.”

“Let’s proceed then. Our most popular special is the Hunk one. I’m sure it’s just your ticket.” The 900 man speaks in a tight voice.

“Don’t be mad, I’m not used to things taking so long, ya know?” Karen burps.

“Oh, sure. The, hello? Karen? You there?” Sounds like the 900 man is getting ticked.

“Sorry again. Fell over the kitchen chair trying to get to the Doritos. Talkin’ about sex makes me hungry. Keep going.” Karen crunches a chip loudly.

“Fifty dollars gets you laid, finally.”

Karen hears him breathe louder. “Oh really? For how long?” She burps again. “What does he look like?”

“He’s a hunk, and now his tools are all found, his gas has passed, he knows where his keys are and even cleans up the bathroom after he’s done.” He waits.

“Wow. Really?” Karen is in shock.

“Yes.”

Karen shoves some more Doritos in her mouth, chews and thinks. “Hey, are you a husband?”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

Did she hear fear in his voice? “Uh huh. Does your wife call in here?”

He stutters. “Uh, no, she’d better not. Back to the special, after all this, the hunk husband fires up the barbecue and cooks for the wife.”

“Damn. He hasn’t fired up my barbecue in months. In fact, why is that? Is he being a 1-900-husband on these calls? What the F is going on down there? I want to see a list of your husband’s names that you keep on file,” Karen said, now at a shout.

“Karen, please, don’t yell. It’s not polite -”

“Polite? You dumb shit, polite? Who wants polite? I called up here for a hot, fast and long ride with some stud that’s pretending to be my husband and you talk polite? What the hell kind of business is this? Let me talk to your manager. Now.”

“Karen, don’t get upset. We’ll get this all settled to your satisfac -”

“God dammit. Bring me a man. Now. And while you’re at it, grab another beer. I’m feeling horny and thirsty.” Karen hiccups loudly.

“Now Miss Karen -”

“Don’t patronize me, you god-damned idiot. Get me a man, naked, body honed to a perfect V, with no gas and a convertible. Send him over.”

“Huh?” the 900 man says.

“Oh yeah, and don’t forget. This is a secret from my husband. You sure he’s not an employee there? Maybe there ain’t no camping trip after all…”

“Wait, honey.”

Karen stops and stares at the receiver.

“Hank?  Is that you?”

About the writer:

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.