Dancing at the Blue Iguana

Staggered home last night after serving 9 consecutive at Lompoc. 9 intensely stressful days beginning with an inventory that got me home at 1:30 a.m.

It was all downhill from there.

I needed passion. I needed a connection with the challenge of being human.

Popped "Trouble With The Curve" into the DVD machine. The damn movie has been sitting around the house for weeks. In keeping with the vibe of the past 9 days the DVD kept getting stuck.

By then I had a cat in my lap and a whiskey by my side.

I was not getting up.

Shut the damn thing down and trolled slowly through On Demand and came across "Dancing at the Blue Iguana."

There was a time in my life when I was Accounting Boy, that I would have ten, fifteen, twenty minutes on my hands before leaving for cubicle heaven.

I would dial up IFC or Sundance and watch part of whatever movie caught my interest.

I can jump into the middle of a movie without consternation. I do not need to know what is going on, do not need to understand the plot.

For me it is all about the feel. The vibe, the emotion.

Used to catch Dancing a lot during one period of time. I liked the feel. Honestly do not remember if I ever got around to watching the whole thing.

I did last night.

The movie tells the story of five strippers and the drama in their personal lives. Much of it is heartbreaking as you realize their weaknesses and their wants and desires.

Their fight to be human.

I think the movie packs more of a punch because it is set against the brutal reality of being a stripper.

The rest of us have the same problems and disappointments and hurts but our realities tend to be mind numbingly repetitive and dull.

Working in a liquor store does not have the same edge as working in a strip club.

One girl gets pregnant, another is getting older and knows things have to change, one naively wants to adopt a kid to make her life meaningful, another is desperate to do anything to make a name for herself.

One is an aspiring poet. When she is backstage she writes poetry. She attends poetry readings on her free time. She gets called up to read her poetry at a gathering, against her will, and the poetry is excellent.

The guy who runs the readings begins a relationship with her and encourages her to do something with her writing.

Suddenly she has hope.

Her story boils down to one weekend that she needs off to spend with her poet man.

She does not get it and is bullied into working. Her man shows up at the club and watches her for a few minutes.

She cries as she dances. He leaves.

You know she will never do anything with the poetry and the world of exotic dancing will chew her up and spit her out.

That's the story line that got to me because that is how life works for most of us.

You have a dream, you have hope, but life throws up huge roadblocks that destroy you and leave you with thin cliches to lean on.

What I saw of "Trouble With The Curve" - through the pauses - looked good. Especially watching Clint stand in front of the toilet and talk to his unit as he tries to urinate. The dialogue goes like this: "OK, come on now. Come on, boy. Let's not take your sweet-ass time about this. Jesus. OK, that's it....Ah, good. Don't laugh, I outlived you, you little bastard."

Good stuff.

But ultimately things worked out as they should.

"Dancing at the Blue Iguana" gave me what I needed.

I am not healed but I feel almost human.