Observer photo by Grace Verhey
Line dance instructor Pinky O’Neil teaches a class of seniors how to dance the Sugar Cane Drag.

Arlington seniors ‘let the dogs out’

by GRACE VERHEY

“Does anybody know what today is?” dance instructor Pinky O’Neil calls out in a shrill voice. “Today is the Nationals’ opening game!”

A dozen bright-eyed women who are older than 55 stand facing O’Neil. They’re standing in two rows on the vinyl floor at Lee Senior Center’s multipurpose room in Arlington, Va. As O’Neil welcomes them to class, they begin to move their feet excitedly. It’s Monday afternoon, about 1 o’clock, and it’s time for O’Neil’s weekly hour-long line-dancing class for senior citizens.

Like many Washington area senior citizens, these women take classes to exercise their minds and bodies in the fight against aging. The activity du jour is line dancing, and O’Neil is the center of attention.

In keeping with spirit of the Washington Nationals’ home opener against the Florida Marlins, the 72-year-old widow and grandmother of seven wears a bright red Nationals baseball cap and a sparkling red shirt imprinted with a New York cityscape. Curly red bangs frame her face, and the rest of her hair is pulled through the ball cap’s opening and into a red ponytail snaking down her back. Years ago, grade-school classmates called her “Pinky” because of her red hair, and the nickname stuck.

O’Neil’s eyes smile from behind round, thick-rimmed glasses fitting snugly below the bill of the ball cap. She wears a red wrist watch, a red-jeweled ring, shiny red starfish earrings and ankle-high Western boots.

But the Reston, Va., resident and veteran line-dance instructor is not all cowgirl. She uses a wide variety of dancing music, beginning in the warm-up.

“To get warmed up, we’re going to do it to ‘Who Let the Dogs Out,’” she announces, “because when you go to the ball games, a lot of times they like to play that silly song, and it has a good beat to it.”

O’Neil pushes play on her portable Sony boom box and faces the class as the music begins. “Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof, woof, woof!”

The Caribbean techno beat of the BaHa Men’s 2000 hit single, “Who Let the Dogs Out,” reverberates through the room and bounces off the green tile walls. The room is the size of a small elementary school gymnasium, with 1960s-era suspended ceilings and boxy florescent lights. A serving window on one wall opens into a kitchen, perfect for potlucks.

Along another wall, flyers attached to a blue bulletin board advertise Duracell hearing aid batteries, a Timex daily medication manager and the UpEasy Seat Assist, a self-powered lifting cushion for getting out of an easy chair.

But there is no talk of easy chairs out on the dance floor as O’Neil begins clapping to keep time. The room that is full of women joins her, clapping enthusiastically and marching in place.

“Shake it out,” O’Neil says, kicking her feet forward. The women follow. “Woo hoo!” O’Neil yells. “Step, clap, step clap. … Now back to three kicks.”

The women get into the groove, kicking their feet to the music. They are wearing a colorful assortment of T-shirts, slacks, tennis shoes and flats.

“Who let the dogs out? Who let the dogs out?” O’Neil sings. At the end, the room erupts in applause. Women wipe their brows and take a quick break.

Dot McDonald and Mary Jane Knight are neighbors who attend the class together. McDonald is a youthful-looking blonde in a turquoise sweater who has been practicing her dance steps at home to prepare for class. Knight, a short-haired brunette wearing a pink cotton shirt and pink lipstick, loves country music and remembers how she and her husband would dance the two-step on weekends in their younger years. Now, she says, she can’t get him onto the dance floor, so she comes to line-dance class on her own.

O’Neil announces the first dance called the “Sugar Cane Drag”–a routine the class first learned last week. She gets the dancers into position. “Front row, move forward,” she says, motioning for them to come closer. “Forward more. I did take a shower, so don’t worry about it.”

She demonstrates the steps with smooth, agile motions that belie her age. She calls out instructions. “A-one-two-three-tap, five-six-seven-tap. Back it up.” She leads them through the set of moves four times, each time facing a different wall of the room.

The class imitates her movements with varying degrees of success. Some are a few steps behind. Mary Kay Spink, 71, moves a little more slowly than the others, lifting up her tan slacks as she dances.

“I have to do something that gives me real exercise,” she says later. “These classes, they stimulate the mind. Who wants to sit at home?”

O’Neil plays “Cool to Be a Fool,” and country singer Joe Nichols’ easy drawl echoes through the room. The song drowns out the din of the Coke machine humming just outside the door. “If it was cool to be a fool, I’d be the hippest guy around. If a heartache made you famous, I’d be known from town to town.”

O’Neil leads the class through the dance to the slow four-count beat. She has adapted the routine with seniors in mind, limiting the number of turns and keeping the tempo slow.

“Come on. Show me some attitude,”O’Neil says, restarting the music, “and a smile. Woo hoo! Look at you go!”

A former physical education teacher and aerobics instructor, O’Neil has a passion for promoting fitness among older adults. She has taught classes for seniors throughout the Washington area, and for 10 years, she hosted the cable television fitness show, “Dancing Around with Pinky O’Neil.” She was selected as Ms. Virginia Senior America 1996 and has continued to support the pageant by leading the Cameo Jewels, a traveling performing group made up of former pageant participants.

In today’s class, O’Neil announces a new dance called the “Kokomo,” a meringue-style routine she choreographed herself. She demonstrates the “drunken sailor” move, thrusting her right palm forward as if she is pushing against a wall while moving her body forward in a series of short rhythmic steps.

A maintenance man walks around the perimeter of the multipurpose room, headed out the door on the wall near the kitchen.

“Do you want to dance with us?” she calls out to him. He ducks his head and hurries out the door.

Undaunted, O’Neil leads the dancers through the “drunken sailor” moves in the “Kokomo” while the Beach Boys song of the same name plays in the background: “Aruba, Jamaica, oooh I wanna take you; Bermuda, Bahamas, come on pretty mama.”

“How’re we doing?” O’Neil yells. “Is everybody OK with that?”

A woman in a gray sweater shakes her head. “I don’t even make it all the way around,” she says. “The dance today may not feel complete because we are just starting.”

In quick succession, O’Neil leads the class through a faster ragtime piece, the “Charleston Tap,” and then through the “Wedding Waltz,” danced to the country song, “Could I Have This Dance”by Anne Murray.

As the music comes to a close, O’Neil calls out for everyone to clasp hands and form two lines. The dancers raise their hands in the air and bow.

“I want people to have fun with their lives, and dancing can bring that to you,” O’Neil says. “You can let your hair down and have fun and meet people and be sociable. As you go along the upward swing, you realize, ‘Hey, today’s the day.’ Flaunt it, and have fun with it, and wear a purple hat. Do what you want to do.”