I’ve found my Muse.

Terpsichore.

My liberal-artsy friends may have learned that it rhymes with “hickory”, but in New Orleans it’s pronounced “TURP-si-kor”.

Terpsichore is one of a series of streets in the Lower Garden District named for the Greek Muses. Terpsichore is the muse of dance.

[Several other Muse streets have, um, flexible pronunciations. “Calliope” is KALLY-ope. “Clio” is C-L-ten (that’s a joke). “Melpomene” was MEL-po-meen. Now it’s pronounced “M-L-King”, at least in the stretch where it crosses St. Charles Avenue.]

If you’ve seen me dance at a wedding or a party, you’ll have no trouble believing that I once dreamed of a career as a dancer. In Junior High I studied ballroom dance. Skilly, my teacher, advised me that my size 7-1/2 EEE feet and my lead a$$ were better suited for a career behind a desk.

But in a new video, New Orleanian Mike Marina gives me hope. Mike Marina is my Muse, my Terpsichore.

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