'Lessons, not talent'FROM THE dance floor of Surfside 7 in...

Recently scene, heard in Anne Arundel County

March 29, 1998|By Judith Green

'Lessons, not talent'

FROM THE dance floor of Surfside 7 in Edgewater, where couples trip the light fantastic to music by the Crabtowne Big Band on Wednesdays: Dave and Gay Shepardson of Annapolis, who design web sites for Dalmatian Co., come to the Surfside because the band plays music suitable for the Lindy hop, a 1930s dance craze (named for Charles Lindbergh's solo "hop" across the Atlantic) that's back in vogue.

"He was the worst dancer in Annapolis when I met him," Gay said of her husband.

But after a series of dance lessons, the couple tosses off the high-flying steps and lifts as though they were nothing.

This is lessons, not talent," said Gay.

Thomas Lyons, a technical writer from Bowie, danced with his 7-year-old daughter, Clarissa, to "Someone Who'll Watch Over Me."

"It just seemed like a good one for father and daughter," Lyons said.

Clarissa, who is in the second grade at Pointer Ridge Elementary School in Bowie, is exploring all kinds of music, her father said, and wanted to hear some jazz.

"I love jazz," she said.

Her father grinned. "Last week it was Hanson," he said. WHY DID the two ducks cross the road?

Who knows? But a Ford Aerostar driver with "HAPPI" Maryland license plates stopped traffic for a few minutes Wednesday afternoon on Roscoe G. Rowe Boulevard in Annapolis to find out.

Patiently waiting at the Calvert Street light, "HAPPI" watched the birds slowly waddle across the boulevard and then hop up on the grassy island in front of the Louis L. Goldstein Treasury Building. And that's where they stayed, happily planted in the lush green and lounging in the midday sun.

Seemingly satisfied, "HAPPI" drove off into the horizon toward West Street -- not stopping, however, for a woman in a long black coat who was trying to cross Calvert Street.

Dan Thanh Dang

Who's seeing Sunspots?

SINCE A plane landing at BWI dumped jet fuel over Glen Burnie, the Federal Aviation Administration has been researching the issue of planes dumping fuel from midair and last week released a report referring to material printed in The Sun.

However, it described The Sun's story as a "news report in a Sunspot Maryland paper."

Makes one wonder about the accuracy of all the important aviation matters in the report.

Cheryl Tan

A piercing conversation

SO THEY'RE like hanging in the corridors, a couple of dozen teen-agers -- gaggles of girls talking and bunches of boys sprawled on the furniture in Glen Burnie District Court.

The only unusual thing about them, really, is that they are there for a session of Teen Court, to mete out justice to one of their own. But for participants whose cases are not being heard at the moment or who are waiting around afterward, it's as good a time as any to yak.

The court sessions are pretty much done.

Some of the girls are talking about body piercing -- who's got what. Not including the eyebrow ring over there, the discussion is about a person who is not present.

Two quasi-adults (from The Sun) are taking this in, clearly focusing not on the artistic merits of nipple piercing, but on the perceived pain factor.

"Yeah," says one girl, pointing to the other. "Her boyfriend got his nipple pierced. A pierced nipple."

"That's not true," snaps the other. Then she explains. "It's not pierced. It's gauged."

For those of you unfamiliar with the practice, it involves stretching and enlarging the pierced hole. The quasi-adults are getting squeamish.

One of the older-than-teens says yes, she saw a guy with a large bolt (as in hardware store) in an earlobe. He had come to the pound looking for a lost pooch.

"I think I know him -- red hair?" says one of the girls.

Nope, the one I saw had dark hair. Different bolted guy. Unless he's been dying his hair.

Andrea Siegel

'It's just mulch'

ON FRIDAY, the hottest day of the year so far, the employee sat at her desk in Pasadena reading paperwork while lucky people played outside.

The receptionist suddenly flew into the room asking who owned a red Chevrolet.

Why, asked the employee who owns a red Chevrolet.

Because the mulch is on fire, the receptionist said.


Being a native San Franciscan raised in the heart of the city, the employee needed a moment to understand just what the woman was talking about. Is it some unknown part on my car? she wondered. Or some kind've of cutely named combustible trash suburbanites throw into parking lot trash bins?

Her landscaping lesson of the day was that mulch is a type of decoration often used in strip malls to circle trees -- and apparently it has a tendency to burst into flames from time to time.

So the employee moved her car just as the fire engine came roaring down the street. The UPS delivery man, obviously accustomed to seeing the parking lot shrubbery engulfed in mulch fire, was unimpressed. "I don't see why they need to bring out the fire company," he said. "It's just mulch."

Laura Sullivan Pub Date: 3/29/98

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