I'm drenched, hungover, and bewildered as to why I'm in a rustic garage on the outskirts of downtown Austin, watching tattooed pedicab drivers dance with a tiny dog in a pink tutu.
The driver must dance a careful fox-trot on three forged-steel pedals.
In a pop era of pile-driver dance beats, Mr. Ocean is a steadfast ballad man, with open echoes of self-guided, innovative R&B songwriters like Prince, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Maxwell, Erykah Badu and particularly R. Kelly and his way of writing melodies that hover between speech and song, asymmetrical and syncopated.
Whether it's Sgt Al Powell (who likes Twinkies and once accidentally killed a child), Argyle (the nervous limo driver who dances for 90 minutes and then helps John save the day) or Holly (who grounds the film in a reality missing from all the other installments), every non-evil character in Die Hard is a cog.
"I know people have this impression of me as a driver who likes to dance the rear end out, but that's just the way my cars have been.
Being named People magazine's sexiest racecar driver and winning "Dancing With the Stars" helped, too.
As the tempo picked up, young people — river guides, hotel maids, seasonal firefighters and biologists, shuttle-bus drivers, and ranch hands — streamed forward to dance by the stage.
The son of a truck driver from Nutley, N.J., Mr. Petronio came late to dance, but he brought with him the devotion of a religious convert.
She could be an actor, a nanny, a bus driver or an organiser of off-beam nights that bring outsiders together to dance or knit.
Taxi Driver ends in shocking violence, but the road it takes there earns it its right to dance over the line.
My driver was a professional tango singer (many cab drivers in Buenos Aires are addicted milongueros, dancers who prefer the flexible hours so they can dance every night).
