David Paris Books

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Dave Paris
I was challenged yesterday teaching latin dance at the senior center in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Usually, seniors come up to the dance floor, one at a time, and after 15 minutes, it’s a party, as I hop from one woman to another, grooving to my favorite salsa songs. But on this day, no one came to join me. Maybe it was haircut, maybe the novelty of subbing had worn off. Maybe the new soap I was using wasn’t as effective as I thought, a casualty to living alone. I am not sure what it was, but I was alone dancing by myself, reminding painfully of my 90’s experiences at the Copacabana.
Then, Carmen, who was the most abled of the woman at the senior center, brought her friend, who was the most physically challenged, to the dance floor. Carmen asked if we could do chair dancing. I was up for the challenge. We started out with the feet, and then for variety, did different body isolations, a throwback to taking Frankie Martinez’s movement classes two decades ago. Carmen was very clear that she didn’t want any sad songs, and so I invoked Pupy, my Afro-Cuban’s teachers spirit, and gestured sharply to the sky and below, ridding myself of those energies I wanted to burn. Fresh off Angela Butch’s spiritual ceremony last Sunday, I let go what wasn’t useful, and manifested what was.

The class was a triangle of energy, all of us feeling the power of moving together, with spiritual gestures, with what collectively our bodies could still do, in the time we had left. I was reminded of when I was in the hospital, and I couldn’t do anything without the assistance of four people, and it was only then that I finally could appreciate humanity, as I was met in my time of need with the love and care of a nurturing community. I was able to pass this forward yesterday, and although we never got out of chair, I had never been moved so much in an hour of dance before. My physically challenged elder student smiled 10 times in the hour, and felt a groove that was unearthed by the music, by Carmen, by myself, and 20 years of dance education. We were all grateful for all of the elements that brought us together and channelled a unique energy that happens when we collectively move ceremoniously to celestial sounds. Most of us do not maintain the traditional dance of our ancestors, but the cathartic possibility of harnessing that energy are always one collective intentional gesture away.

For three years, I went to the annual Floyd Chisholm memorial hustle content, to pay tribute to a dance and acrobatic pioneer and legend, to be in the presence of her partner Nelly Cotto, to be in the birth place of Latin hustle, and celebrate with a community that paved the way for modern partner dancing, acrobatic theatrics, and soulful expression. Last Saturday, I was feeling a little more competent in my hustle dance skills after 20 plus years of lessons and practice, and I entered the competition with my friend Josette Penzel. I told her that if we were lucky, we might come in eighth place, based on what I saw the first year, but placement was not the point. We were there to have fun, dance, and connect. She was 100% down.

I started the morning blasting Donna Summer at my apartment, a pleasure that was not allowed in my Brooklyn childhood, as dance did not exist for me, and vulnerability in any form made you a target or ridicule or worse. I embodied the beautiful expressive arms of hustle dancers, big bold movements, and an energized body. I was ready.

I went to 149th and 3rd ave on the 2 train, and saw the old and new of the South Bronx. A sign outside a house posted a yoga invitation. Curious, I looked over to read, “Do Yoga! Bend over and pick up your dog sh*t!” So Bronx.

When I arrived at the park, I immediately reached out to Nelly and Kenny, who were my first acrobatic inspirations when they danced with Eddie Torres as featured acrobats. I rested on the side as Josette warmed up with another veteran hustle competitor, who subsequently tried to enlist her to dance with him instead of me. I felt honored! The dance was called the hustle. Franc Reyes was there, and wrote a whole book on this phenomenon.

For the competition, we danced three songs in a row for the first round. Billy Marti, another inspiration for me, was one of the judges and had previously told me that as a competitor and a judge, he wanted to see latin movement in latin hustle. So, after being tired after one minute of dancing, I stood side-by-side with Josette, initiating in place hip movements, which the crowd loved, but served an important dual purpose.

We made it to the second round, gave it our all, and won first place. Upon receiving the trophy, I looked up to the sky to thank Floyd for paving the way for this experience. Hustle, latin movement, and partner acrobatics changed my life. Recently, I got to thank my doctor who saved me when I was sick with Covid. This experience was similar.

On the subway ride home, I had a tough choice. I was very tired, and the only available seat was next to a guy that was flicking a pocket knife, perhaps innocuously, but perhaps ready to commit terror. With a trophy in one hand, and my massage gun in the other, I sat down next to him, wondering who was making the bigger spectacle. My eyes monitored his every move in case he was gonna flip out, as any New Yorker can tell you is necessary, ready to defend ourselves, as we commit ourselves to our craft, bask in our accomplishments, and rest in who we are.

At the beginning of my acrobatic dance class, I ask everyone to share their name and anything we should know. It’s an umbrella question meant to address the range of needs of everyone. A few students mentioned their physical ailments. Some shared what they wanted to learn in class. One student was distracted by my shirt. Not the guacamole stain, but the text, which said, “No Cheese Down That Tunnel” I first heard the phrase when a coach at a Landmark meeting (worth looking up Landmark if you don’t know) tell a student who was immersed in blaming the world, that there’s no cheese down that tunnel. Brilliant! It immediately reminded me of my bike ride to class, in which a clueless biker turned suddenly without looking, crashed into me, and had some terse words for my ears. Well, if you know me, I don’t mind being wrong, I don’t mind being in pain, but if you want me to go from 0-10, blame me for something I am not at fault for. While I appreciated the material for a good therapy session, I was stunned in the moment and it took me a bit of time before I was able to catch up to him. But I did. And his first words were that I should have made a sound if I was passing him. A crowd gathered, curious as to what I was going to do. There was no cheese down this tunnel. I explained to him that he needs to look before turning and he caused me pain. He gave me a forced apology, more due to the size of my body and my steel gaze, but I accepted his apology and headed to class, biking slowly to recuperate my serenity. Then the same biker passed me by a few blocks later, rang his bell, and said, “That’s what you should have of done.”
I shared this story in class, as that is what I wanted others to know, before we started, giving me a little space in case I was unduly loud or aggressive. We went late because opening circle became a bit of story time for a few people. One student shared that he was kicked out of landmark, which is odd because they’ll do just about anything to keep you there. And I realized sharing is a tunnel that has cheese waiting for me, and others, at the end of the maze.

All weekend, the following books are free on Kindle....and you know I want those reviews.....
Sports Fan Therapy
Questions for the Heart and Mind
Questions to Awaken the Soul
Family Life Goals
Social Emotional Poetry (For the classroom teachers out there)

No Kindle? No problem. All my books are always available digitally, only a request away.

Fourth and 10
Almost 40 years ago, I was addressed individually in the huddle for the first time with specific instructions on fourth and 10 on the last drive against the best football team in Brooklyn. Our star quarterback, Eddie Bishop, singled me out at a time and place where no one else was given individual attention. I was the right guard, physically being the shortest guy in the team, and also out of place having the only punk haircut and earring underneath a football uniform in all of New York City. This appearance marked one for death in most Brooklyn neighborhoods, but I embraced an alternative identity as a reaction against 80’s conformity, yet simultaneously sought the glory offered from playing football. And gloriously, in this moment, I stood out to Eddie Bishop the star. I felt special.
My placement on the offensive line happened because I walked into the wrong room on the first day of training three years earlier. My dream of ever carrying the ball was subsequently squashed. I found different success surprisingly, as a blocker for someone else’s glory that never felt different or separated from my own. It’s what a team is and what I was fortunate to be a part of.
At this moment, Eddie demanded ex*****on. I was flattered. For years, all he had to say to me that I had a big ass, dozens of times a day. I celebrated the recognition for a split second, but not having a party though as we had a task at hand. We needed 10 yards. My job was to move horizontally on the line and smash an unsuspecting defender, that when executed correctly, meant, unearthing someone as I cleared space for the Eddie. It was my moment of glory.
The play call was a bit of a surprise. No one ever calls a running play at fourth and 10, at any level of football. Our coach was not wise. In the playoffs the previous year, on the last play of the season with the game on the line, he called a running play that was never called before and never since. You might think this means a special gadget play, like the Philly special. But no, it was a move of panic, a poor choice, a glorious ending for the other team, but not us.
When the play was called this time, we just followed orders. It was the 80s. we couldn’t control the play, but we could control how we did it. What words did Eddie Bishop use to me in that moment? It was something like, “Mo********er, you better block.” Mo********er is a Brooklyn term of endearment when used in the right tone. Like Samuel Jackson does. Eddie’s tone was not sweet. It was a demand and a call to attention to the moment and I appreciated his leadership, even if I felt simultaneously a bit scared. In times of uncertainty, clear direction is a lifeline towards action.
When the place started, I launched myself to the left, seeking the last player at the end of the line of scrimmage. What I didn’t expect is that their best defender, twice my size, who was supposed to be blocked, was not. And so 5 feet before I was supposed to hit someone else, I hit this building and was ricocheted backwards. Oddly, it was just enough space for Eddie to run behind and off he went beyond the line of scrimmage. If you look at the film, there was a linebacker waiting to hit him immediately, but maybe because the opponent never suspected a running play at 4th and 10, or maybe because the field we were on was 99% dirt and the linebacker couldn’t see through the dust, Either way, Eddie ran right by him into the secondary and got 10 yards. Our offense followed that with a game-winning drive against a team none of us thought we would ever be beat. It was our championship moment in a season in which we did not win a championship. We performed a Brooklyn miracle,
On the way off of the field, we were celebrated by hundreds of fans elated about our victory. It justified and rewarded thousands of hours of practice, like getting a standing ovation at a rock concert, or a loving glance of approval from a parent, which is not something I ever got before in my life.
I am telling the story today, because Eddie and I, and many of our teammates, are headed to Midwood field on Sunday to support fellow hornet Danny Landberg, and his attempt at five consecutive city titles, as a head coach of Erasmus Hall’s football team. One and two generations later, all of us, support youth, in a variety of ways, giving opportunity for glory, in whatever box it comes in. You only need that experience once to know how special it is, and then dedicate your life to give it to others.

I’ve been meaning to write a post about biking on the lawless Nyc streets for about a year. Today is the day. I was returning from Trader Joe’s with two full bags on my handlebars, packed to the brim, annoyed by the cashier, who told me to be careful, which I is happening more and more in my older age, and I told him that he shouldn’t worry, as I’m not gonna crash. And sure enough, going down the street, I got hit. Not by a car, but by another bike. A bike going the wrong way full speed and going against the light. If you know me, you know it’s very unlikely I was harmed, for better or for worse, I don’t move much. This guy though was propelled sideways and hit the floor hard. He immediately started groaning, and my conscious mind was at full work. When do I admonish this fool. It was in the middle of the intersection, and within seconds, onlookers already were judging me as the cause of the crime, being bigger than this guy and unharmed. And so to defer their judgment, I did tell him “You know you blew through the light.” I quickly took a photo of the light and him on the floor, just in case, remember having an incident from years ago when a a perpetrator claim victomhood on the subway, when the robber was tackled by a Good Samaritan. And so I appeared even more callous.
The streets and bike paths have been crazy post pandemic, like never before. Almost every day I see something dangerous ends. And I always have something to say because I always have something to say. Once, it led to a guy whirling his bike chain similar to Road Warriors, ready to take me out, all because I called him out for almost hitting me as he ignored ared light. Another gentleman who went full speed on a bike path in the wrong direction heard a few words from me, and replied very kindly, that he just does what he likes. I thought that accurately captured the state of anarchy, and I want to pose this problem to my anarchist and libertarian friends. Currently, in New York City, we have seen people do what’s good for them irregardless of rules. Or is it regardless of rules? Every time I get on my bike, which is every day, I see, at least one thing that’s borderline nuts. On a daily basis, I face motorbikes, playing a game of chicken as they zoom by me, or at me, fighting for space, where no one is respecting the laws, and nothing is being enforced. Chaos is waiting around the corner. Society has never been worse. In my lifetime at least.

Year 51 is done! I feel like I am in extra innings. First, I ask a gift. Please take two minutes this rate one of the 15 books I have written. Your five star reviews are precious. I only need one sentence. This link sends you to buy the book that needs it tbr most. All my books are available for free digitally upon request. Thank you!

https://www.amazon.com/review/create-review/ref=cm_cr_othr_mb_wr_but?channel=awUDPv3&ie=UTF8&asin=B0CCCS9Y6R

On to my yearly life review.
This was the best summer in over a decade. It started with my first corporate show in five years with Vicky Terradez. We debuted a move I’ve been working on for 10 years. The next day, we performed for Vicky’s son’s field day in Fort Greene Park, and felt the love of first graders, which is a special acrobatic audience.
Vicky then went away for the summer to Spain, and so I asked Sam Sweet from Cosmic Fit to join me for Bindlestiff’s annual show in Greenwood cemetery. This was an extraordinary experience, that everyone must see live before they chance seeing it in the afterworld. Highlight for me was practicing tight wire on a 10 foot practice wire. And then watching the two tight wire artists later walk across the entire pond in rhythmic symmetry. Stunning. The entire event is magical and I was honored to be a part of it. Sam and I did a few other Bindlestiff gigs, while doing the neck to neck move, getting faster every week. Angela Butch also filled in with me, lighting up the streets with great circus and with a Rolling Stones song I had wanted to do with her for years. and yes, if you are getting the feeling that I am planning something special with all of these people, that’s what I am planning on year 52. The New York Acro Fest was also a highlight , something I’ve been a part of for 10 years. It was the first time I was introduced to my new title, complementing my gray hair and growing belly as an OG. still taking that reality in, both honored and annoyed. But it’s true, I’ve been doing this for 25 years. I just have so many more things I want to do before I get put into a closet, or worse. Next Zoe came down, and we performed at both Boston Salsa Congress and New York, Salsa Congress. It was a blessing being part of the community that is a huge part of my life for the last 20 years. And yes, I was called OG again. And words that cut even deeper. Time to embrace it, I guess.
Zoe and I also returned to Bindlestiff after 10 years, and was a part of their performance in the streets program. What they have done to spread circus and love is incredible and I got to practice being more of a ham on stage, which is a character I’m enjoying pursuing.
I also started teaching acro dance again in New York City, now at Warrior Bridge, and depending how it goes, at Cosmic Fit as well. so it’s been a fulfilling summer.
The rest of the year was less eventful, but productive. Still battling, but being productive, and writing is the best medicine. I came out with two family social emotional books, two books of questions, and the big prize, social emotional learning volume two. Volume one has now sold over 2000 copies, and now it’s on to volume three.
What will your 52 bring? Zoe and I are working on a social emotional acrobatic show for schools and for families. I’m creating an online social emotional professional development course for teachers. I’m still learning new moves and Zoe and I almost debuted a new piece for ny salsa Congress, but it wasn’t quite ready,but it will be for year 52. And if everything goes right, you’ll see working with so many different partners might come together. It’s something as special as I’ve ever done on stage. Stay tuned!

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Zoe Klein and I are performing twice today in Bed Stuy with Bindlestiff Family Cirkus as part of Sidewalk Follies. The program is loaded with great circus talent.

Location 1 / Show 1
Marcy Ave Plaza
Marcy Ave btw MacDonough St and Fulton St
Showtime: 12 pm

Location 2 / Show 2
Decatur Open Street
Decatur St btw Howard Ave and Saratoga Ave
Showtime 4 pm

If your money could talk, what would it say? (Excerpted from upcoming book..."1000 Social Emotional Questions)

Wonderful interview that went very deep fast!!!!

episodes.buzzsprout.com

Ep. #26 Knocking on Death’s Door: A COVID spiritual awakening w/ David Paris Episode Description David Paris is a seven time acrobatic dance champion and an America’s Got Talent finalist. He is the author of A COVID Story which documents his 30 days in medical coma an…

Just did an amazing interview on this great podcast...check it out!! Please let me know what you think.

‎Digging in the Dome on Apple Podcasts ‎Comedy · 2021