Tag Archives: British invasion

Ballerina

Ballerina: (n) a female ballet dancer.Dictionary B

It is amazing to me, the things that pop to my mind when I hear the daily word that comes up through the luck of the draw of the dictionary–and suddenly an image is literally dancing across my consciousness, and no matter how hard I try to consider some other interpretation, it remains predominant.

I remember a very obscure song I knew as a young boy, which referred to a ballerina. (I could probably look up who did the song on the Internet, but I would lose the spontaneity by trying to impress you with my knowledge instead of impacting you with my experience.)

I think the song had a harpsichord in it and sounded a little old-fashioned, but it was a rock song that began with the haunting musical phrase, “I had a date with a pretty ballerina.”

And then, something about “her hair of gold was so bright it hurt my eyes.”

But what really struck me about the song was the lyric, “Was I surprised? No. Was I surprised? No, not at all.”

It was sung really high–in a falsetto.

As a kid, I loved that song, though I wouldn’t admit it to my friends, who thought it was really sissy.

The singer was one of those cast-offs from the British Invasion, who sounded very English, and therefore, to my Midwest ears, like he possibly was homosexual. (It was a different time…)

But this didn’t prevent me from having great emotion and affection for the song. It awakened me–that music, by itself, has a particular anointing, whether you understand the lyrics or comprehend the message or not.

So when I think of a ballerina, that song comes to my mind, and even though I don’t know who sang it or what the hell it was all about, it still conjures images of a dainty lady graced with great ability, pirouetting into my mundane life.

 

Donate Button

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

*******************

NEW BOOK RELEASE BY JONATHAN RICHARD CRING

WITHIN

A meeting place for folks who know they’re human

 $3.99 plus $2.00 S&H

$3.99 plus $2.00 Shipping & Handling

$3.99 plus $2.00 Shipping & Handling

Buy Now Button

 

Accustomed

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accustomed: (v.) to make someone or something accept something as normal or usual

“I’ve grown accustomed to your face … ”

Yes, that beautiful song spoken by Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady.

Of course, the play itself is a total chauvinist romp, with men supreme and women apparently fortunate to be able to place slippers upon their feet. Well, that’s my point.

It would be very difficult for this generation of young humans to grow accustomed to My Fair Lady–not just the “face” of it but also the theme and ideas.

We are actually being asked to adapt to many new ideas at a breakneck speed, so as to promote the agenda of some group or another, and generally speaking, the process by which we are encouraged to thrust our thinking forward is via guilt instead of mercy.

I guess that’s all right. Some people would say the end justifies the means, as long as one group gets civil rights or another idea gets an airing–what do we really care about the procedure by which it was promoted?

But honestly, I would like the chance to get “accustomed” to an idea out of the tenderness of my own soul, and express my mercy instead of being laden with guilt over being backward in my thinking, or even stupid. Is the real way to get people accustomed to new ideas or changes in attitude to mock them or make them feel ridiculous and ancient?

I don’t know.

  • Would we ever have done away with slavery if it had been our choice to keep slaves?
  • Would we have ever given women the right to vote if it had not been referred to as “suffrage,” with ladies marching in the street?
  • Would the Civil Rights Act have been voted in if we had sat around, allowing time to pass, giving the idea a season of contemplation?

So the word “accustomed” is really misleading. It connotes that we eyeball something, mull it over in our minds and come to intelligent conclusions. That’s not really how things change.

I think music would probably still be Frank Sinatra and John Phillips Sousa if the British invasion had not literally planted a flag of rebellion in the soil of the United States, demanding attention.

Sometimes I think I’m too polite with my ideas, and that I might fare better if I screamed them. Unfortunately for my own self-promotion, I’m not much of a screamer–and in an age when “unreasonable” seems normal, an attempt to be reasonable seems fruitless.

So to grow “accustomed to your face” today means that I see it all over commercials, news programs, magazines, talk shows and flyers–until I am forced to accept the validity of your presence.

It may not be as enriching as a good conversation, but it would be difficult to deny its effectiveness.