Polka Mary and Polka Jerry

Polka Mary and Polka Jerry

The first time I saw the elderly woman stand up out of her wheelchair to dance I almost fell off the stage. It was a miracle: the lame walk! And it was all due to the power of our polka music? I know we can make people tap their feet to the rhythm, and we’re a darn good dance band. But raising someone up from the wheelchair? Wow, that’s something really special!

I got the rest of the story later. Polka Jerry and Polka Mary have been great fans of polka dances all their lives. Every church picnic saw them out there together on the wooden dance floor laid across the church’s parking lot under the tent. They might stop for a song or two to visit the refreshment stand, but they were back out on the floor in no time. All day long; as the man once said, if you don’t dance the first dance you can’t dance them all.

Bands like to see people dancing. It tells us we’re doing something right. I’ve been playing with this polka band for twenty years now, and every time the first early songs to an empty dance floor aren’t anywhere as much fun as the later pieces in a set where people are swirling around all over the place. So a couple like Jerry and Mary? We all smiled when we saw them coming in. They were usually the first to arrive, and we knew there would be somebody dancing all day long.

But time marches on. Polka Jerry and Polka Mary, for they earned their nicknames over the decades, are both past seventy. Heck, they may be past eighty for all I know. But they are getting up there, as we put it gently, and some things slow down with the weight of the years. Mary can no longer walk very reliably, nor can she get very far or very fast, thus the wheelchair to help her get around.

Jerry keeps a determined cheerful attitude about it all. He’s always smiling, often wheeling Mary around the outside of the dance floor, swaying her chair forward and back and around in time with the rhythm. When she gets tired of that, Jerry parks her where she can hear the band and see the dancers. Then he goes looking for another lady to squire around the floor. He’ll dance with anyone, and he’s a gentleman through and through. If the girl doesn’t know how to polka, he’ll just walk grandly around with her, perhaps even stopping to give her a twirl in front of the band. And he’ll take her back to introduce her to Mary afterwards.

But when the band plays one of their favorite songs, like “The Blue Skirt Waltz,” she will summon up the effort to climb on her unsteady pins and dance. Or at least to move gently, swaying to the music. Jerry holds her close, supporting her. You can see they care so much for each other.

Polka dances, especially church picnics, are entertainment for all ages. There’s no alcohol required, no special equipment, no special skills needed. Of course a lesson or two on some of the many ways to dance the polka will give you ideas and confidence. And a beer or two might loosen a few inhibitions and help you work up the nerve to get out on the dance floor. In front of all those people? But however you get out there to dance, you’ll find it’s great fun, great exercise, and great company with your dance partner. It’s a music tradition that’s been around for over a hundred years, and we see mothers and fathers holding their babies while they dance with their own parents.

The band doesn’t grade dancers. I can guarantee you that from the bottom of my heart. If you’re on the dance floor, no matter what you’re doing, you are absolutely doing it right. If you are enjoying yourself, you are doing it right. Trying to execute complicated maneuvers around each other with twirls and dips and occasional flights through the air? Fine, and your work is probably worthy of national TV exposure. Working on a simple Polish Hop promenade with a few skips and jumps? Fine. Walking slowly around the floor with your partner, or even alone? Fine. Standing in one place, holding your partner up, swaying a little back and forth? Fine. Running around playing Tag in between the dancing grownups? That’s fine, too, as long as you’re a kid, and you don’t run over anyone who can’t get out of your way.

At one point recently we had all of that going on at the same time:

– Professional quality dancers light on their feet and flying around everyone else.
– Middle aged couples galumphing around together, smiling and laughing at what their own feet were doing.
– Several pairs of teen aged girls on break from volunteering at the refreshment stand, trying out this polka thing and having fun with it. Their dancing looked like they were skipping around out there, almost flying.
– Three mothers holding infants in arms, moving gracefully around the floor bouncing their babies up and down.
– Polka Jerry holding Polka Mary to his chest, supporting her and moving with the music.
– A set of preschool boys chasing each other through the crowd.

Jerry holding Mary. Mothers holding babies. The grand circle of life was right there in front of us, and my throat closed up a little.

So: polka music is simple, formulaic, boring, for old people and squares? And for people who still don’t know quite what a “square” ever was, because they have been one for so long?

No. Polka music is life. Polka music is joy. Polka music is love out loud; it’s love on two feet, or sometimes four, if you need a little help.

It isn’t always obvious when the band is getting it right. Any time you throw five people together to play music you’ll get some interactions and complications up on the stage, and that can be distracting for the musicians. But it’s nice to be able to know that the dancers, the people out on the floor, will tell you you’re doing something good for the world. You’re spreading good feelings and smiles, and helping people feel the joy that can be in life.

That’s why I’m going to keep playing in the band as long as I can. And that’s why you should grab onto your bravery and say Yes the next time you have a chance to go dancing.

Joe Larson
9 June 2014