Mr. Verbsky, I was thinking about you tonight. Told a room of people so – our dance instructor had the “follows” switch roles with the “leads,” and then asked us what we thought.

I thought: if I lock on my darling husband the way Ken locked on me, this two-step may turn out all right. And it did, of course.

You made a great model for me tonight…and nearly thirty years ago. I doubt I’ve ever thanked you for it.

Granted, it throws intimacy off-kilter to thank one’s partner profusely. That’s not what intimate relationships are about. But I learned a hell of a lot in those two years, with you leading like the great dance partner you were.

You taught me how to study. More accurately, how to manage my sweeping anxiety so I could study no matter what. I made honor roll because of that – thank you!

You taught me how a tomboy should behave – full-strength gut punches are never appropriate among friends, regardless of gender – and how to play the trophy. That was fun; geek-girl jocks don’t get much trophy experience. Thank you.

You taught me one can cook a medium-rare steak at home, no chef’s diploma needed. Who knew?!

And you taught me how to really dance, like Texans do. Together, synchronized, music invading everything, moving until closing time. Maybe I got hooked on the oxytocin, but over the distance of time it’s the dancing I’ve missed the most. Thank you for the SPJST, Coupland, the Spoke. For hours where my body knew just what to do, because you told it to.

You’re a good man, Ken Verbsky. For all that and more, thank you.