This is just a teaser while I write out the godawful experience that was telling Smirnoff that I’m taking some time off from ballet as per my doctor’s recommendation.
Yeah, I told him “doctor” not “midwife”.
He is old-school.
Not sure exactly how old school he is in the baby-doctor department, but didn’t want to give him any more ways to tell me I am wrong and making a mistake.
Anyway, so this story comes up during barre, about a friend of his:
My friend went to see the doctor. And the doctor told him, “You must stop smoking.” But my friend did not wish to stop smoking! So he went to another doctor. And this doctor also said, “You mustn’t smoke.” So my friend went to another doctor and another, and they all told him the same until one doctor said, “why yes, you may smoke as much as you like.” and my friend said, “aha! This is my doctor!”
Not sure exactly what he was getting at here, I mean, if he was telling me to find another doctor then he was also equating ballet to an expensive habit that most doctors agree will eventually kill you.
Which seems a little extreme.
So, maybe he was just telling that story to make us laugh between the battement glissades and the frappes.