Dancing with Emily

I have a confession to make. I have a girlfriend and my wife knows all about it. In fact, she thinks it is great that I have this lovely, blond, 20-something that I occasionally meet while on tour. Her name is Emily and she is the niece of one of the Switchback Team members. Emily and I met while on a gig several years back. She immediately took a shine to me and made certain that I knew it. It wasn't too long before I started getting some pictures or a phone call from Emily. I didn't know how my wife would take it, but I figured I just had to be honest about it all. My wife was very understanding and encouraged me to continue the relationship. So I did and we now have a little photo album at home from Emily, complete with pictures of us taken at various shows around the country.

A couple weekends ago there was an exceptional meeting for us. It was a wedding in Kalamazoo and we were playing a set before a DJ took over. Actually three DJs. Yes, it took three of them to run one CD player. There was Emily, looking lovely in a proper black dress with a hair band that sported a sultry black feather. She whispered something to one of the DJs and the next thing I knew, a nice slow country song came on. Emily came right over to me and asked me to dance. And so I danced that slow dance with her. She sang every one of those lyrics for me. The dance ended and I thanked her. Before I could step off the floor, another song, this time more rock n' roll, came booming out. There was Emily, reaching her hand out to me to dance. How could I refuse? We danced that one and soon there was a third dance. Then a fourth and so on. After the sixth dance, I excused myself and headed off to the men's room. I hadn't stepped more than ten feet out the door when Emily was there to guide me out on to the floor, this time for the chicken dance.

Now, some guys would just not have it that way and would seek some sort of respite from all that dancing and exhibition on the dance floor, but those guys just don't know Emily. I knew that this was a great night for her and it turned out to be a great night for me because I had the pleasure of seeing the excitement of a wedding dance through Emily's eyes.

When my feet finally gave out, I said, "I need to sit this one out," and Emily headed out on to the floor by herself. She was inexhaustible. She gave all the other women a run for their money, executing wild spins and pumping her hands above her head. Out of all the people at the wedding, it was Emily who danced every dance.

And she is extremely loyal. Brian got out on the floor with her and I took her aunt out for a dance. We had danced 20 seconds, when Emily came over to change partners. Later on I asked her, "What about dancing again with Brian?" "No," she said. "Don't you think he might get jealous if I dance all these dances with you?" "No," she said. And that was that. Brian was not to be on her dance card for the rest of the night. In fact, no one was on her dance card, except for me.

It was on the dance floor that I found out that I wasn't the only apple of her eye. I asked her during another slow dance what her favorite animal was. "The wolf," she said. "Why is that?" I asked. "Jacob," she said. "Who's Jacob?" "He's the wolf in Twilight." How can I compete with a guy that turns into a werewolf? Perhaps I shouldn't have had my hair trimmed so short? I realized that there was a chance I wouldn't be Emily's boyfriend forever.

The night was drawing to a close. People were drifting out of the reception as Emily's mom and I talked. "She's been looking forward to this wedding for months," she said. "She was excited that she was going to dance with her boyfriend."

And I was really happy that I had an evening where for once I didn't have to play all night. I was able to get out on the floor. The one who got me there was this little young woman, who draws pictures and cards and is one of the most supportive of all Switchback fans. She made the night really fun. And it took everything for me to keep up with her.

The DJ called out, "Last dance!" Emily came running over and reached out her hand. I got out on the floor with her. She rested her head against me, and I looked down at my wonderful, lovely blond-haired girlfriend.

My understanding is that people with Down Syndrome have a shortened life span. Emily has crammed so much into her young life that she would put others to shame who have the blessing of decades. Her unbounded enthusiasm for celebrating and living made it an honor to dance with her. And her genuine innocence about loving life and people was something that touched me deeply.

My wife was attending a wedding that evening in Portland, Oregon. She texted me and asked how I was doing. "Having a great time," I texted back. "Dancing with Emily."

~ Marty