Every Day Cannot be like Valentine's Day

I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day.  And for no other reason than that I just don’t care about it.  On a few occasions, when I have said, “I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day” I have been met with “I know, because every day should be like Valentine’s Day, right?” 

Wrong.  Every day should not be like Valentine’s Day.  For starters, it just can’t.

I thought about this a lot this weekend.

Very quickly the show has begun to consume my whole day.  We had our first 3-show day on Saturday, which is of course pretty tiring (as each show lasts 2 1/2 hours) but also borderline mundane.  You check-in, put on your make-up, warm-up a bit and then... skates on, costume on, costume off, skates off, skates on, next costume on, costume off, skates off, skates on, Christmas costume on, costume off, skates off, skates on, next costume on, costume off, new costume on, costume off, quick change into next costume, costume off, quick change again, costume off, skates off.  Repeat. And repeat again.

Within this show cycle there are the numbers of course, the skating.  That fortunately takes a little bit of focus.  A saving grace of the day, possibly.

Also within the day are these things we call “goodies.”  They are little moments you have with other skaters, like a point, look, high-five, secret handshake, little dance, etc. They can be backstage, in the dressing room, on the ice.  And here is the main thing: they are consistent.  Once you have a goodie, you do it every show.

Because this is now our second year performing the same show, and our principal cast has stayed the same, there are many goodies that have carried over from last year’s tour.  For example, I always look at Andre in Bolero right before our bracket step and give him a little nod or wink.  I did it last year, and now it is just part of my choreography, whether I like it or not.

And in the opening, right before Brent and I do our 3-turn step around each other, I look over my left shoulder and give Michael a little point, and he gives a smile.  

Again, we did this last year, so instantly we did it this year as well.

A few night ago, we had a moment of truth.  A heart-to-heart let’s say.  Maybe we said we felt bored in the show, maybe we said the drinks at the bar were too strong.  Who knows.  This is what I do know:  Michael turned to me and said exactly what I felt.

 “I F#$%ING HATE OUR GOODIE!”

And it felt so good to get the truth out.  We had done that goodie so many times.  It wasn’t genuine anymore.  I didn’t want to point at Michael.  He didn’t want to smile back.  It was a faked goodie, and it felt awful.  It made us both angry.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why every day CANNOT be like Valentine’s Day.  Because, even when something starts out fun and with some meaning, after you do it each and every day, it will loose its luster.  It will become boring.  And worst of all, it won’t be genuine.  It won’t be genuine until the day someone turns to you and yells in desperation,

“I F#$%ING HATE VALENTINE’S DAY!”