Ruminations on Arousal in Tango

               I’m not sure why so many people are interested in this topic but at least twenty different people weekly read my previous post ‘Four Rules Concerning Arousal in Tango’. It's been nearly four months since it was originally released and it's still going strong. Far be it from me not to produce more words on the same topic, so here they are!

               Contrary to the ‘clergy’ who profess not to be affected by this condition, the circumstance of becoming aroused while dancing tango, I have talked to several tangueras who’ve related to me that their boyfriends experienced this also. True to an old saying among men about masturbation, “never deny having ever done it and never admit to having done it lately,” I have to say this hasn’t happened to me in a long time but it was quite a problem when I first started dancing.

               Since this will probably be read all over the world, I must state that I’m American. Differing from our global reputation as decadent, sex-starved extroverts, we have deep-seated inhibitions toward discussion of what happens between boys and girls after puberty. We owe this to our Puritan ancestors who believed any visible indications of sexual stirrings were the signs of a weak and evil individual who must be punished publicly.

               It is entirely possible for a man to arrive at 40 years of age, after fathering two children, to feel uncomfortable discussing the topic of arousal. In fact, any attempt to do so will get you labeled as a pervert and you’ll find yourself on the same watchlist as your local Catholic priest. After 50 years of life that man realizes it is necessary for somebody to speak up on this subject and he begins to offer suggestions on how to handle such situations(no pun intended).

               First, I must say to all my male readers that if you find yourself growing some wood in your trousers while engaged in the embrace of a seductive tanguera, this is a perfectly natural phenomenon. Once this begins to happen, the ball is in your court and it is imperative that you let it fly past you and roll to a stop somewhere in the corner; whatever you do, do not take a swing at it and try to hit it back to the other side for that is surely an invitation to disaster!

               The problem is not you, it is women. Yes, I said, women, plural, not the particular woman you are dancing with at the time the fuse was lit to send your rocket to the moon. This dance has its roots in the bordellos of Buenos Aires and Montevideo, where young, affluent men would go to amuse themselves with the ‘local talent’.

               Using my very active imagination I envision a world where women engaged in the occupation of separating fools from their money. If only one woman was involved in this game tango might never have come into being, since one man is never a match for one woman in a mano-y-femano race to the finish line which would be somewhere near the bottom of the man’s wallet. What the girls of this time were selling was, and still is, precious, and any woman so much as offering the slightest hint that she was diminishing the ‘product’ would suffer severe, sometimes deadly, recriminations from her sisters.

               And so tango was born: the art of seducing a man without appearing to seduce a man; a dance that is seemingly innocent to the observer and totally intoxicating to one of the participants.

                With the resurgence of conservatism in American politics and society, it is no wonder that tango found fertile ground in which to grow in the United States.  Paralleling the rebirth of modern-day American conservatism was the revival of ‘strip clubs’ across the fruited plain. It seems that the more Americans found ‘God’, the more we also found a reason to issue permits for special places for women to disrobe and engage the general male population. 

                A rose by any other name is still a rose but if Rose is taking her clothes off and giving ‘lap dances’ then it’s not a rose, it’s a brothel!

               Suddenly, financially disadvantaged women all across the United States found instant access to wealthy male patrons. Their spouses, and potential spouses, needed to find a way to maintain control of their men; tango was the perfect training ground for them to sharpen their skills and keep their bread-winners under wraps. It’s sort of like a geisha school for aged debutantes.

               Now here you are, dancing tango because it was imperative you find a way to meet unattached women your age or consider taking vocations at the local monastery even though you’re not a homosexual. In fact your heterosexuality is the very root of the problem. A divorced man in America, who’s already procreated and taught his kids to fly, is in serious danger of becoming a hermit if he doesn’t take drastic steps to locate prospective females. Tango, once again is the answer.

               If you’re at a milonga, by this time you’ve already discovered that ballroom dancing is only for hen-pecked husbands whose wives are infatuated with the TV show ‘Dancing with the Stars’. If you’re a ‘gringo’ you’ve also learned that salsa dancing is fun until someone has too much to drink and is blaming you for all his problems; you’re life has probably been spared several times at this point by those heavy men at the door running the ‘wand’ around your crotch too many times to check for weapons. Thanks to salsa security, you’ve lived long enough to attend your first tango lesson and now there is no turning back….except for one tiny little problem: Woody:-D

               Yep, Woody. He’s always been there as the back seat, er, front seat(?) driver, telling you where to go. So far you’ve been able to maintain your respectability but you can see from the embrace the young Serbian instructor is throwing on the gorgeous tanguera that it’s is going to be hard, literally, to continue to be in control!

               Calm down, it’s okay to be affected. To not be affected would be an insult to your partner so make it a point to remember these moments so you can effectively reproduce your reactions later when you are no longer so easily seduced. It is absolutely necessary that you retain your composure. You must realize that your instability is the exact state your partner wishes to put you in. Like a shark, she can smell blood in the water so it is crucial that you move in a manner that does not seem to be unnatural. If she senses you are at the edge she might push you over it on a whim, for she is in an equally perilous condition, like a vampire that must feed on a victim whose blood is toxic, she is also walking a thin line between reason and instinct.

               I know this situation is difficult enough without having to employ AAT (anti-arousal techniques). You’ve got to navigate the crowd while listening to the music and spontaneously choreograph movements that are interesting and within your ability to convey to your partner. As the blood rushes from the head on your shoulders to parts south, you’ll notice the lights are getting dim but this is not the hostess adjusting the quantity of lumens in the room, you’re simply coming close to passing out, that’s all. This is nothing to worry about because, much to the displeasure of the female population, most guys aren’t equipped with a container large enough to allow them to achieve a total loss of consciousness….and yet there are stories….

               Once again, remain calm, stay focused and keep moving. In every room there is always one person whom you’d never consider dancing with. She has a purpose in life and this is it. She possesses a special pheromone that is from a class of chemical mood inducers called ‘anti-erotigens’, you’ve probably never heard of them but that is my purpose in life: to keep you informed;-) DO NOT focus on another guy! If your arousal continues it could cause serious complications in your life and you’ll have to narrow your search for tango partners to the San Francisco Bay area.

               Have you found her yet? Good! Now imagine licking her armpit. Taste that? Yes, that’s what ugly tastes like: eight layers of women’s antiperspirant. You should be good now but if you’re not then you’ve got more problems than a team of doctors could handle and it’s probably a good idea that you should pursue your hermitical tendencies; go out into the woods and crawl into your yurt.



For more sex and tango check out this great book:

Note: Check out my new book on Amazon: Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure.

Note: For an in-depth look into the mind of the Kayak Hombre, read his book, available on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1369366756&sr=1-1&keywords=River+tango