Fill out this form to email this article to a friend
Keeping the do-si-do in demand
The Snells can't understand why more people don't come to their square dances. But they're trying to change that.
By SHARON TUBBS
Published June 26, 2006
|  |
[Times photo: Ted McLaren] |
Jack Smith, 92, swings around Betty Cherie during a square dance at the Largo Community Center on Friday. Smith comes to the dances every week and credits them with keeping him young. Allen Snell, who was calling the dance, presides over square dances several times a week. | |
| The night looked like a bust. It was 10 minutes before start time, and only the Snells and the Russells had arrived. They sat waiting, elbows propped on a table, chins in their palms. The weekly square dance shrinks after Easter when the snowbirds go home, Rosie Snell said. Plus, she said, shaking her head, fewer people do the jig these days. The Snells don't understand it. Lord knows they've tried to boost interest in square dancing. They've posted fliers at community centers, put notices in Florida's West Coast Dancer newsletter, held programs for 4-H Clubs and church groups to get the young ones on their circuit. Allen Snell, 52, has been a professional "caller" for 30 years. During the day, he is an environmental specialist for the state's Department of Agriculture. But on weeknights, he forms dancing squares across the Tampa Bay area. The events combine informal dance workshops with entertainment. On Friday nights, he's at the Largo Community Center. He just celebrated his one-year anniversary in Largo, he said. Typically, the Friday night dances will draw five or six squares of four couples each. The dancers come from as far away as New Port Richey and St. Petersburg. "We're pulling from a pretty big area," Snell said. "That's a nice place to dance." He also calls dances at Asbury United Methodist Church in New Port Richey on Sundays and the Land O'Lakes Community Center on Thursdays. Snell presides over each dance, his instructions commanding allemande lefts and do-si-dos. He fits the part. Born in Polk County, Snell has a Southern twang that would fit nicely in Nashville. But square dancing, he hates to admit, is on the "downswing," he said. People can pick their dance music trend these days. They can bop to swing, glide to slide or twirl to ballroom. The younger generation may prefer 50 Cent's Candy Shop to Snell's rendition of Tennessee River. To hear Snell tell it, rap music is just a rebirth of the rhymes he kicks with a handheld mike, a record player and a couple of 45s. But on a recent night in Land O'Lakes, he hadn't bothered unpacking his vinyl, not with just four dancers in the room. You need at least eight to form a square. Then, at 7:30, the door swung open and in walked five more. For the next two hours, seniors with graying hair, and some with a few back problems, twirled and answered to Snell's call of "boys and girls." A layman would need a translator to follow their moves - the yellow rock, the flutter wheel, the pingpong circulate. In the winter, they'd dress the part, girls in crinolines and boys in jeans, long-sleeve shirts and bolo ties. But with the temperature well above 80 degrees, most wear comfortable jeans or shorts, short-sleeve shirts and sneakers or cowboy boots. Once the music and revelry began in Land O'Lakes, it didn't much matter that young folks didn't show up or that some of the old-timers have stopped square dancing. Snell ordered the boys to "yellow rock" their sweeties, and Ernie Russell obliged by giving his wife a "yellow rock" hug. Then he slipped her a quick peck on the lips. Snell, meanwhile, continued his call. "Grab your lady, there you go. ... When you get her, let's do a singing call, now for all y'all."
[Last modified June 26, 2006, 07:01:35]
Share your thoughts on this story
[an error occurred while processing this directive]
|