/ HierCon (Hierarchy vs. Conviviality Stories) / Neighbors /
The senior dance in 2008 invited me to assist the line dance teacher, the line dance teacher freaked. I had no idea I’d been drafted into a civil war. I was the dance administrator’s pawn. The line dance teacher was the dance hall landlord’s pawn. I was canon fodder: so was she.
Nevertheless, recently released from the dungeon wall, just resuming dancing after a fifty-five year layoff, I loved it. The dance participants were divided for and against. Our beautiful boss was for me: that kept those who were against me because they’d heard that the US had jailed me were held in check a bit. That story is told in that just-linked module: suffice it to say here that I finally quit, stopped going. My new girl friend gave me the strength to break away: we danced at the American Legion instead of at the Senior Dance. Still do.
Back home, the phone rings. It’s the YMCA trying to expand its membership: come on over for a free tour. The salesman was young, amateur: imagine trying to “close” this master salesman. I interrupt the guy I say I came not to join but to assess whether I might lead you in something: give me a room and a sound system and I’ll add line dancing to this Y’s offering. The guy took me straight to the program director. A week later he called: come back to discuss details.
The Y was going to pay me $15 / hour one hour a week. See how many people show up.
There must have been forty people for the first lesson! Prominent among them was Barbara Hester: my senior dance student, a girl I’d flirted with before I met Jan: a virulent enemy. She stormed out mid-lesson. The following week only about twenty showed up. Guess what happened to the other twenty!
The season ended, my numbers dwindled further. After Easter only six or eight were appearing: and the boss called a halt for the summer. “See you in November,” he said.
But November arrived and no line dance was schedules. When I went to check my line dance CDs in the locker, my mail box had been closed, my CD’s, made by me personally, were missing: and the boss couldn’t be found to talk to.
That happens to me again and again: I’m not “fired”: communications just bump to a halt.
Understand: This institution is called the “Young-Men’s-Christian-Association: but there’s nothing Christian about it: unless you mean by Christian the Christians who murdered Hypatia in Alexandria in the Fourth Century.
I didn’t offer to teach my Christianity at the Y: I am after all a disciple of Ivan Illich, the greatest modern Christian saint; I only offered the line dancing. Nevertheless I was sabotaged.
$15 a Week
Accepting that salary almost wrecked me. I received no salary for offering the world my internet of 1970. I received no compensation for being knocked down by the US / Fortune500. I have received not one penny of royalty for the idea, the pattern, the whole plagiarized magilla. What I have received is sabotage, lumps, interference. The US in 2008, having already jailed me, further destroyed my business, censored my six domains, evaporated my 4,000 online publications …
OK: so in 2008 I was teaching line dancing at the Senior Dance: in exchange for free addmission: value, $5 a week. Now I was being paid $15 a week by the Y, even though I put in several hours of preparation each week: the CDs, the web site … LineDanceAlliance reported everything I did at the Y: the lessons were there, for the public, world-wide.
Great. Except when I reported the $15 a week change in my income to the Florida food stamp program, FL bounced me out of it? Their mistake, eventually corrected, but, meantime, I didn’t get the food!
I became a college teacher understanding full well that college teachers were paid way less that “peers”. I worked for $8,000 a year when $15,000 a year was still considered poor. Charles VanDoren earned only $2,000 a year at Columbia even after he had his PhD from Columbia! Fine. But what I got was zero! What I got was my sone kidnapped because I’d offered to replace the school system with a free marketplace for teaching.
When my income was zero, Social Security gave me $400 a month: plus $180 food stamps. Joining the faculty at the Y got me $15: and no food!
Christians, Americans, White People
Notice: we don’t tell the truth, and persecute those who try. Notice further, all those abstractions are self-defined: who’s Christian? people identified by God? No: people identified by themselves.
I so identify myself, and bid you wait till God confirms.
People who fill the churches identify themselves, monopolizing the judging.
The menus should pull these stories together, relate them, stack them, network them: meantime, realize, there’s much more to tell, time short, getting shorter.
Launching a scrapbook of pk Line Dancing in Highlands County
what a mess, a whole bunch of threads overlap: I’ll spew, then organize.
In 2009 or 2010 I got a promotional phone call inviting me to stop by the YMCA. It was right down the block from me, I decided to check it out: actually I had it in mind to sell them a service, not to buy their service. I’d been teaching line dancing at the Highlands Senior Center since 2007 or 2008. That situation will get its own report here, but for now, in short, it was impossible, and I stopped attending, ignored my supposed Board membership. I was line dancing as well as ball room dancing at the American Legion each week, but that was all Lake Placid people, south of here. I wanted to make myself available to Sebring people. So: I let a host show me around, and I put it to him. He liked the idea but had nothing to do with such decisions: so he introduced me to the powers. Lo and behold: yes: They’d start me with a class once a week. We went over what equipment I’d need, and: they’d pay me! $15 / hour. That is, one hour, each week.
The Electric Slide at HSC
The pay only covered the hour I was actually leading the group in the room, there was no budget for the many hours I spent burning the CS with the dance music, and the Y to this day made no response to the web site I created for the class, crediting the Y!
My first class about forty people showed up. I thought it went really well. Except: of the couple of women who already knew me and my line dance instruction from the Senior Center, one, Barbara Hester, was my avowed enemy: as the link partly narrates. She marched out within a few minutes. The next week only about twenty attended. They had a great time, but over the season even my best fans were acting antsy at being near me: this well had been well poisoned. I’ll add details over time. But main point is: the boss said at the end of the season, Call you next November. He didn’t. And they never let me get my CDs back. No firing, no words, just a stonewall of silence.
Christians can’t stand Christians: two entirely different and incompatible meanings. Just like Americans, state serfs, can’t abide real freedom fighters. I got sabotaged in more than one way in that affair. One irony was that I reported my $15 a week income to Florida’s food stamp program: and they took my food stamps away! I had to struggle to get them back. I hate the state, the state hates me: except I can’t take their food stamps away; they take mine.