Broken Hearts in Bubble-Wrap

               Recently, several of my lady friends have experienced breakups with their boyfriends. It’s to be expected. The beginning of summer brings an abundance of new skin to sunlight and nature takes its course.  Men will change direction at the flash of a thigh, the flip of the hair or the wink of an eye. Women can be equally nonchalant about losing a mate after finally shedding those extra pounds gained over the winter.

               When I first began dancing tango seven years ago, I noticed there was often a dark cloud hanging over the room. Over the years I realized that many people come to tango wounded. The latest experiences of my female acquaintances inspired me to postulate a more specific diagnosis of the injury.

               Let me preface my postulation with a disclaimer. I have no college degree. I am not an expert on women’s issues. My only qualification to make this statement is that I have a blog….and, that I am a man. I write to expose the mind of a man who dances tango. It is my hope that, through my words, others may achieve understanding, solace or, at the very least, entertainment.

               I believe that women have a greater capacity for loving than men do. This is both a blessing and a curse. This power to love is so great they can protect the men they love who are in danger, they can heal them when they are injured and, as is more common nowadays, provide for them when they can't provide for themselves. Their love shines like a beacon in the night that a man can follow back to its source. When that love is broken or discarded it can leave a woman devastated.

               Because the force in her is so pronounced, she draws other women to her. This is how she ends up in Tango’s living room: on the shoulders of her sisters.

               It is not the same for a man. We can be such dogs; coyotes, actually, content to roam the plains alone, howling internally so that none might be allowed to share in our pain. What draws us to the milonga is not heartache, it is emptiness. We arrive alone, seeking that which is missing.

               When a woman is in pain, she winces at everything that reminds her of the hurt. Not only does she wince, the women near her feel her pain empathically.

               Now, picture a room full of men and women. It doesn’t take many women hurting to cast a cloud over the whole event. What aggravates the situation is the presence of men. Our attendance is both a good thing and a bad thing. The agitation we cause is the catalyst that will spark the chemistry which makes tango so addictive.

               When a man is young, all he can do is break things. If you throw a roll of bubble wrap into a throng of boys of any age, every last plastic bubble will be broken in a matter of minutes. It is as if it were a carcass tossed into a pool of hungry piranhas. If there are rocks, they will throw them. If nothing is at hand, they will wrestle each other and, when that is played out, they will insult each other before finally resolving to grab their testicles and pick their noses.

               Our boyish nature never really leaves us.

               At the milonga, we may break apart a pretzel, or break the silence…we may even break wind. We’re guys, it’s what we do. Some of us break things in a more sophisticated manner than others but the effect is the same: the woman in pain senses the roguishness of the opposite sex and is reminded of her heartache.

               As boys become men, we learn that there is much joy to be had in the building of things. We feel joy because we see it in the faces of the women who surround us. Men are genetically programmed to respond to the emotions of women. The ladies are happy with our accomplishments and this in turn causes us to experience pleasure. Even when we are alone we can picture a woman smiling at the final results of our efforts and receive gratification just from the thought itself.

               Because I am a man, I naturally rebel against the cloud. I’m not sure why but I feel it and I am compelled to do or say something guy-like. I guess that’s why there are so many rules in tango: to protect the women from the brutal nature of men.

               After seven years of mingling at milongas, I’ve learned to hide my rough edges. I do this because I am building something. I am creating the persona of anonymity which is necessary for a good tango embrace with a total stranger. If I am smooth, I can be anybody she wants me to be. If I am in control of myself, she can dance with me unencumbered by her repulsion towards my darker side.

               Experienced tangueros hide their brutal side so well that I think women are actually fooled into thinking that it doesn’t exist. Believe me, it is always there.

               It seems to me that the cloud of the wounded is one of the reasons why tango is so successful all over the world. A milonga is a place for the injured to seek refuge. The music and the dance are the salves that heal them.

               In the twenty-first century, we’ve managed to create all these wonders yet we still don’t know how to care for our spiritual selves. Fortunately, Mother Nature was looking after us when she invented this dance a hundred years ago. In fact, dancing has always been there for us, even before we developed the words with which we use now to cause each other harm.

               I will not pretend to share in the sympathy for the women who have loved and lost. I am no stranger to a broken heart. It is my opinion that women can be hard on themselves. Some women beat themselves up badly for having loved too deeply. Loving so strongly is not a thing to be regretted; it is something to be thankful for.

               Some people never get that chance. On the road to acquire all the things they thought necessary in life, they failed to see the love they were in and missed their chance to give it all they had.

               Tango allows a woman, for a brief moment in time, to love hard without the heartache. It gives both men and women the chance to show the love, the passion that is inside them. We can’t be afraid of who we are and what we bring into the room. All we can do, and all we really need to do, is dance.

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

For a deeper psychological insight into the mind of the Kayak Hombre, read his book, available on Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371659630&sr=1-1&keywords=river+tango

Tango Temper Tantrum

               I’m really upset! If I blog about it, maybe I’ll find some constructive release.

               Deep down inside I am a very angry person. Tango is one of the reasons my anger lives so far below the surface. Another explanation is that I resolved long ago that the bad temper I inherited from my father does not get passed on to my children.

               The catalyst that set off my foul feelings is not important. It was just a stupid comment in an email not necessarily directed at me but I took it to heart.

               After eighteen months without a holiday or a vacation, my contract with AT&T is coming to an end and I must line up more work. I guess I’m ripe and ready for some time off but there isn’t any coming to me.

               That’s okay, I’ve got tango!

               When I got divorced, it was clear to me that I would be working until I died. Honestly, I thought I’d be dead by now but I just keep on living. The older I get, the more I fear death and work harder to avoid it. That’s because I’m happy. I’m not happy at this moment but, overall, I am satisfied with my life and I accept the conditions under which I work.

               It’s okay to be pissed off. I think we live in a society that constantly tries to convince us that happiness is the only worthy goal. Anger is a necessary component of the human condition. Often it is the source of the passion inside us that others find attractive. I was once in a relationship with a woman who was absolutely adorable when she was mad. I don’t diet effectively until I am furious with myself for being fat.

               Besides a trillion acts of violence, anger is responsible for a trillion resolves to make the world a better place. I don’t know how it is for women but I know many men who get incredibly angry with themselves because they failed to delight a woman with whom they have danced.  As a result, they commit themselves to more lessons and years of practice until they are satisfied that they can please her should they get the chance to dance with her again.

               Now I am not so mad:-)

Peace,

Love,

Tango,

Sincerely,

The Kayak Hombre

For more insight into the mind of The Kayak Hombre, read his book, River Tango, available on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371659630&sr=1-1&keywords=river+tango

So, How Does That Feel?

               After seven years of tango, I’m finally getting the hang of cabeceo. For the uninitiated, cabeceo is the ‘system’ by which dance invitations are delivered, accepted and rejected.

               A man searching for a dance partner looks at the woman he desires and waits until she returns his gaze. If her desire is the same as his, she nods and waits for him to accompany her to the floor. If she doesn’t wish to dance with him, then she quickly looks away.

               The first part of that scenario is easy to understand; the second part is not so easy.

               As I grow older, it becomes increasingly clear that women are experts when it comes to observing men clandestinely. I’m not sure why this is but I have a few theories.

               First, women are hyper-sensitive to their surroundings. A man might walk into a pool and see the water; a woman walks into the pool and sees the water and her reflection in the waves, then she wonders if the reflection makes her look fat:-)

               Applying this theory to the grocery store. A man turns the aisle and immediately spies a lady to check out. By the time he sees her, the woman has been aware of his trajectory for at least thirty seconds and has arranged a chance encounter after seeing the reflection of his reflection in the glass doors on the frozen food aisle, two rows away.

               My second theory is that women can read minds and don’t need to look at us to see us staring at them. This would go a long way towards explaining why so many of my cabeceos never achieve eye contact.

               Finally, I think it is entirely possible that women can see into the future. I’ve explored this in a series of blogposts under the titles Tango Zombies and The Witches of La Befana. I’m certain there is more to the phenomenon known as woman’s intuition than meets the eye. This theory leads me to believe that the women I’ve cabeceo’d unsuccessfully, have not only seen me looking at them, they have also seen us dancing together and decided that it was not worth their effort.

               I don’t often get the hint that my cabeceo has been rejected, although I am getting better at it. I have to wonder if it is my lack of sophistication or that it is because I am an American. I sometimes wonder that foreigners are much more attuned to body language than we Americans are. These thoughts pass through my mind but I am certain it is just that I’m thick-headed and naive.

               Guys, you’re probably wondering what to do after you’ve been rejected. Well, there’s nothing you can do: just sit there and take it like a man. If it’s any consolation, our female counterparts have been through this scenario many times before.

               We are, however, not women. Remember the ladies who reject you and make a point not to offer them a cabeceo ever again. This may seem like cruel advice but you will find that it is common practice among tangueros.

               I think there is a biological reason for this. Men handle rejection differently than women. I experience feelings of hostility and often want to act out. Most tangueros are like me: big babies. A big part of success in tango is in the acceptance of our flaws and in finding a harmless, yet satisfying, way to channel our feelings. Look to the future and tell yourself that this rejection is the bitter herb that makes your eventual success as sweet as honey. 

I strongly urge you to by my book, River Tango, available now on Amazon. It will not only provide you with hours of enjoyment, it will also make you a more honest tango dancer. 

http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371659630&sr=1-1&keywords=river+tango

The Denver Tango Scene

               After eighteen months in the Four Corners Region, I finally made it to Denver for tango. What a weekend! It’s hard to believe so much happened to me in only seventy-two hours.  

               On Friday, my partner and I drove from Durango to Salida going over Wolf Creek Pass. I am sorry to report that wild fires have consumed the area near Rainbow Springs, my favorite backpacking destination. There are hot springs along the trail and they are a popular with the hikers: remote, clean and refreshing. Pics of the smoke are attached below.

               Friday night we stayed at the Salida Inn, a reasonably priced hotel with clean, odor-free rooms. It is located on Rt. 50 as it comes into town from the west. We arrived at 10:30 p.m., got a good night’s sleep and were on our way by 8:30 a.m. Saturday.

               By noon we were hiking on the Colorado Trail at Kenosha Pass, elevation: 10000 feet!

               Once in Denver we were surprised to find that we could check into our hotel early. Our room at the Fairfield Inn on S. Colorado Blvd. was the cleanest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. The bed and pillows were incredibly comfortable which was good because we would be exhausted and sore after each night of dancing.

               I have to say that the Garbanzo Grill on S. Colorado Blvd. is a great place to eat healthy on a budget. We spent $20 on a meal for two people that was more food than we could handle and even had enough leftover to make a great breakfast the next day. I love dolmas(stuffed grape leaves) and cucumber/tomato salad and found theirs to be excellent.

               Our first tango excursion was to Boulder, to attend a workshop on Pearl St. near the Spruce Street swimming pool. It is hard to find. The entrance is off of Pearl St., across from the Boulder Osteopathic Center. Turn into the alley, towards the pool, and you will find the Community Dance Collective in back. There are two dance studios; ours was the one on the right, or Studio#2.

               The class was taught by two top-notch instructors, Darrell Sanchez and Sue Thompson. They have a website: http://www.coretango.com/

               Darrell and Sue teach movements in a series, over the course of several weeks. Since the class was small, only seven students, we received a lot of individual attention and were able to complete the entire sequence of ganchos by the end of the class. This was not an easy task and it required a lot of work on our part as well as much tutelage from our instructors.

               For $15, we received ninety minutes of almost-private instruction from two qualified teachers. This is quite a bargain and I challenge you to find better elsewhere.

               After enjoying the carnival-like atmosphere of the town of Boulder further west on Pearl St., we headed south for Denver. In forty-five minutes we were back in our wonderful hotel room getting ready for two milongas.

               I feel obligated to disclose the fact that I could not find any evidence on the internet of a milonga event for Saturday in Denver or in Boulder. Apparently this was a rare occurrence, and, thanks to my friends, Amy Beaudet (www.tango.org) and Michele Delgado (www.MoreThanTango.com), I was able to secure the time and location of two well-attended tango gatherings.

               The first was at Cheeseman Pavilion in the Denver Botanical Gardens, on the south side of the city. There seems to be some scheduling problems in securing this very elegant locale for tango and this is the reason for the lack of publicity. Checking the Colorado Tango Events Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/273316539359504/?fref=ts I didn’t see a final confirmation of the event until 6:02 p.m. and the music began at 7:30 p.m.!

               It was a small gathering of about forty people; all were accomplished milongueros. I didn’t get the name of the DJ but all his selections were excellent. His mix of Nuevo and Classical tango melodies was unique and very enjoyable.

               Ladies, I’ll have you know this was a leader-heavy event. I’m a heavy leader;-) but I found the competition for tangueras very fierce. Even though the crowd was gender-balanced, several of the women were accomplished leaders as well as stylish followers, and competed with the men to make dance invitations. 

               The woman I accompanied to the dance did not sit down the entire time the music was playing.

               Besides my partner, I only danced with one other woman, the hostess, Darlene Robertson. She is a very beautiful woman, as well as a skilled tanguera. I’m certain I would not have had a better tanda of dances even if I had danced with every woman in attendanceJ

               The milonga at the pavilion was only supposed to go until 10:30 but it was after 11:00 before we got out of there.

               The park is a sketchy kind of place after dark, so make sure you have someone to walk with you as you leave. FYI, I arrived from the east on 9^th Avenue and I parked my car outside the grounds on East 11^th Avenue, near an apartment building.

               It was just a short ride from there to the next event at The Savoy (http://www.naturaltango.com/). It was only through my contacts that I found out about this event. There was a milonga here on Saturday and Sunday. Both were well-attended gatherings of skilled milongueros dancing to a fine playlist of excellent, mostly classical, tango melodies. I did not notice any beginner-level dancers; I was busy dancing so I may have missed them.

               There are two floors to this facility and the tango part of it was on the second floor; the entrance was on the side of the building on 27^th Street.

               If I hadn’t accompanied my partner through the door, I’d swear I had arrived alone because she did not sit down the rest of the night. This story was repeated again the following evening.

               I observed two very distinct styles of dancing: milonguero-style and not-milonguero-style. I come from the East Coast and used to find the milonguero-style confusing and confining. After two years of living and dancing west of the Mississippi, it was nice to see so many people employing this brand of tango with a wide variety of movements that I had not seen before.

               This is not to say that the not-milonguero-style was not performed with equal grace and enthusiasm. After watching people dance all night, it seemed to me that some of the tangueros pivoted with a certainty of balance and a quickness that I’ve only seen executed by native Argentines.

               On Sunday night I met one of the most amazing women I’ve ever danced with. Her name is Nona. A tanguera later told me she might be eighty-four years old. You wouldn’t believe that if you had danced with her. We danced and talked for the entire tanda! While we conversed, she executed perfect molinetes and performed the cruzada whenever I led it. She never missed a beat!

               So engaging was her dialog and so flawless were her movements that the tanda ended long before I was ready to part with her. One of the girls I danced with afterwards mentioned, with not a little bit of envy, that Nona got more dances than she did. This was not the comment of respect for an elder, rather, it was that of a woman competing with another for dance invitations!

               I did a little research on the internet and found this article about her that I think you’ll enjoy: http://fashiondenverstyle.wordpress.com/2010/07/21/nona-style-in-the-golden-years/

               It was a long ride back to Durango, filled with recollections of wonderful tandas and all the different people we met and enjoyed dancing with this weekend. I waited too long to make to long ride to Denver but it won’t be long before I make the journey again:-) 

Fire on the mountain!!! :-(

http://fashiondenverstyle.wordpress.com/2010/07/21/nona-style-in-the-golden-years/

Nona!

For a better look at how the Kayak Hombre views the interaction of men and women dancing tango, check out his book, River Tango, available on Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371589052&sr=1-1&keywords=river+tango

Wanted: Single Women Seeking Tango

                  Women love to dance. I don’t know why that is and I won’t even pretend an explanation. Men love to dance, too, but we could easily dance alone. The reason we don't dance alone is because we love women and are drawn to them by their need for a partner.                                           

                  Men are specially designed to respond to the needs of a woman. When she frowns, we try to figure out why. When she smiles, we elate. So, too, it is that, when a woman is looking for a dance partner, we can ‘feel her searching’.  

                 I know this is true and I can prove it. Go to almost any advanced tango workshop and you will see they are almost always gender-balanced. Yes, there might be one or two extra followers but that is not so bad when you consider the rumor the guys heard that brought them there: three girls to every boy! This is even more remarkable when you consider that a large percentage of the tango community is single.  

               As hard as this may be for some ladies to believe, most communities have an equal amount of men and women seeking dance partners. Unfortunately for the women, men have a tendency to find a place that serves beer and can get idled by the alcohol. Women have a lower tolerance for alcohol than men and this generally leads to a variety of misunderstandings, most of which are not conducive to dancing.

               Now, this is not to say there aren’t instances where the followers wildly outnumber the leaders. This usually occurs at a ‘sanitized’ tango event, most likely held at the local Holiday Inn. At these gatherings, a dance studio will bring in a ‘live tanguero’ for their women to safely dance with. They’ve been assured that, even though he is a wild Argentine male, his penis has been super-glued to his nutsack and they are free to touch him.

               Tango is not safe. It is a dance of passion, not for the timid. If a woman is brave enough to venture out into the wilderness, where true tango is being taught, she will find what she is looking for.

               At the Wild Horse Saloon in Durango, I often see women who’ve braced themselves and taken the plunge into the dance scene.

               It is not enough just to show up, you have to let the guys know you are willing to dance with them. Even at the Wild Horse, where the leaders have lots of experience, they can still find it difficult to approach a new woman for a dance. Usually one brave(inebriated?) guy will break from the pack and offer an invite.

               A word to the wise: if you say ‘no’ to your first invite, don’t expect any more. Good luck.

               I write this post to let the ladies know that we are aware of your need. Don’t give up on us leaders. We are out there looking for you. What we do is difficult but it is worth the effort because we know you are a treasure worth searching for.

For more insights into Kayak Hombre's views on men and women dancing tango, read his book. Available on Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371244071&sr=1-1&keywords=river+tango 

Sex Machines

                I’d like to talk about the perception others have of dancers as compared to the perception dancers have of themselves. My sophist musings stem from a Carlos Gavito quote about the tango embrace being suggestive. He cautions that the dancers do not make it personal; they instead embrace the music. When non-dancers, like I used to be, watch dancers move, they see sex. They think of themselves in that position and realize they would be aroused if they moved so well with another person. To the uninitiated, merely observing conjures images of bedroom activities; to them two bodies moving to the music are sex machines.

               Now that I’ve become a dancer, I must tell you that what the non-dancer believes is mostly false.

               My very first dance partner was a blond-haired, Panamanian beauty whom I’ll call Lady GaGa. Lady GaGa was so incredibly sexy I could not prevent myself from commenting on her looks. She took the compliment as a matter of fact and gave me a little history lesson on the women of Panama.

               When the Panama Canal was being excavated, there were lots of men with large paychecks and no women to fleece it from them. That didn’t last long and soon the country was inundated with European ladies of the night: the proverbial fools were quickly parted from their very real dollars.

               These women weren’t outcast ‘stadda babas’ with handkerchiefs holding up what little was left of their hair and choppers carved out of a block wood in place of actual teeth. No, these were hotties and they had the brains for business...and bodies built for sin.

               Eventually these girls would be called ‘chicas’ which is short for ‘chicaria’ tree. Chicaria trees were used to make the charcoal on which these women cooked for their clients. Competition was fierce amongst these women and it wasn’t enough to be stunningly beautiful and selling what they should’ve saved for marriage, they also had to cook up a meal to attract customers.

               When the diggers went looking to lose their paychecks, all they had to do was follow their noses. If they detected the scent of chicaria tree charcoal burning, its odor very distinctive from other woods, they would say out loud, “I smell CHICAS!”

               So, here I am, dancing with this striking woman of German-Portuguese-Spanish heritage, doing everything I can to avoid getting wood. I am a forty-something man in a room full of people who don’t get out much. Everyone is my age and we’re all from small towns in northeastern Pennsylvania.

               I am so new to dancing I can’t even make my feet do cha-cha-cha after six weeks of lessons…and I’m certain Lady GaGa and I are hooking up!

               After nine weeks and the end of the class, my friend Bob sidles up close to me and asks quite stealthily, “How’d you keep from getting a hard-on?”

               Once again I tell the story how I had to recall being a river guide in the Adirondack Mountains in the early Spring, when I had to dive into the frigid waters of the Moose River. He withdraws and is impressed with my ability to maintain my composure in the face of such tantalizing sensuality.  

               This is the end of the class and this where I first became acquainted with the reality that all dancing does not lead to sex. That was nine years ago.

               It took me years to look at people moving and see the hard work they had put into their dance. They do this because they love to dance, not because they want to be sex machines.

               Often I find myself dancing with a tanguera and I notice immediately that she has put so much effort into her dance that I am in awe. It is difficult for me to rise to the occasion and be the kind of dancer she deserves; sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. Whether I do or not is irrelevant. What matters now is that I have the utmost respect for my partner. I now know I must treat her like any decent human being would want to be treated and not like some sex machine.

               

Note: for an in-depth look at what men think while dancing with women, read my book, River Tango, available here: http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527 

Tangos Sexiest Teachers: Mike Malixi and Carrie Field

               Our Taos Tango in Durango weekend workshop was an unqualified success! If you need superb tango instruction from two dancers who are extremely energetic and incredibly well-versed in the internal dynamics of tango movement, then call Taos Tango, a.k.a. Carrie Field and Mike Malixi. After fourteen months of flying around the vast planet of tango, I think the Durango Tango Society has finally found its guiding light.

               We are all problem children in Durango, as far as tango is concerned; misfits in the middle of nowhere pursuing a dance that has no logical reason for taking root here in the high desert. We've wandered aimlessly, looking for a guardrail to bounce off of before careening over the edge into the abyss of frustration at our inability to achieve proficiency in this fine art.

               In desperation we reached out into the void and grasped for a handhold….and found another hand, no, a pair of hands, clasping ours! Two strong hands pulled us into the light of the twin suns that are the blue eyes of Carrie Field shining on the mountain of a man from Montana, Mike Malixi.

               Mike and Carrie weren’t here just to teach, they came to hang! After teaching a free lesson Friday night at Durango Dance studio, they joined us for a raucous evening of dancing tango to country music at the Wild Horse Saloon. It was here that I got to dance with Carrie for the first of many dances that weekend. She made me feel like I was her dance partner and not just a student at the workshop.

               What I look for in good tango instruction is the teachers’ ability to build upon a core concept in multiple layers. If done well, the students are taken to a level of dancing they did not think they were capable of attaining. Not only did they take our students to a higher place, they improved Durango Tango Society’s standing in the community as well with Friday night’s pro bono lesson and a showcase performance.

               I promoted Mike heavily amongst Durango's ladies and he didn’t let me down. It was extremely important for our tangueras to experience a great leader at this point in their education. Mike danced with all the women but any insights he gained from his dances he saved for his partner's exercises on Sunday.

               Carrie came armed with a bag full of tricks designed to free our minds so we could be more creative in our dance. She was exceptionally adept at perceiving each dancer’s strengths and weaknesses as well as devising group exercises to address our faults and reinforce our assets.

               It needs to be mentioned that this couple worked extremely well together. Thirty minutes after their arrival, it was apparent the two were very well prepared for a weekend's worth of classes. They communicated with body language and a bare minimum of words. Each exercise flowed smoothly into the next and the workshop was over much too soon for all of us. 

               By Sunday, we were all in love with our new professors of tango. 

               You’re probably wondering why I said they were “tangos sexiest teachers.” Well, that might have been a bit of deception on my part. Mike Malixi and Carrie Field gave us a lot of personal instruction this weekend and something more. They gave us a piece of their hearts. They are great instructors. If you want to find out if they’re the sexiest you’ll have to find out for yourselves at their marathon milonga in Taos, August 10^th, 2013.

               For more info on Mike an Carrie, check out their website at www.taostango.com

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