DANCE CARD

I don’t know where I got the idea for DANCE CARD. I was sitting at home one evening, minding my own business, when Cara and Gramps suddenly popped into my head and started talking to one another. I felt like I was eavesdropping, so naturally I took out my pen and paper and started writing down what they said. When they finished talking I looked down at what I had written and thought about what it all meant.
Coming out is such a strange ritual. Why should anyone have to declare his or her sexuality? Of course we all want to live our lives truthfully, openly and without shame, and desire the love and acceptance of our dear ones. It still seems weird that the conversation is around how we love, not who.
For me, Gramps represents an old guard. The people who, when it comes to understanding anything outside of their straight world, aren’t necessarily trying to be hurtful. But even when they’re well meaning they still don’t get it. Like when Gramps refers to his friends, Floss and Mabel, and asks Cara, “Who would deny them a bit of companionship?” Err, sorry Gramps that’s not it. Or questioning Cara on how being a lesbian doesn’t fit within an outdated social pastime, “When you’re on the dancefloor, who leads?” Even when there is an opportunity to relate, the way Cara uses the dance card to communicate how she is feeling, it is negated in the next scene by Gramps preoccupation with what happens “in the bedroom.”
Cara is representative of a new generation. Maybe she’s offended by some of the things Gramps says, but she still loves her grandfather. Yet most of all, she is brave enough to risk alienating him because it’s important that he understands her, and love her, for who she really is.
What does the dance card itself represent? It’s a lover's keepsake, a nice old custom that nobody is trying to take from those who cherish it. But perhaps, after all these years, there’s room on the dance card for a few more names.
Though we end on a punchline (pun not intended) we never wanted the joke to be on Cara. While we may laugh at an awkward family moment, wouldn’t it be nice if “coming out” became an outdated custom. Like the dance card itself, something that we look back on with curious fascination? Remember when we…?