I recall moving down a reception line, shaking the hand of Henry Kissinger, the guest of honor that evening, without knowing exactly who he was. Later, a nebulous character by the name of ‘Dexter,’ who turned out to be a drug dealer and discreet mover in Washington social circles, asked if I had any interest in the former Secretary of State, if I found him attractive. My dumb expression must have said it all. The fellow explained, ‘But Gelsey, Kissinger is to politics what Baryshnikov is to ballet.’ I saw no connection and had no interest. I could only imagine the minds and corridors of power — narrow, winding, and cold — certainly no place for a ballerina. That logic applied to my refusal to dance with the latest defector, Alexander Godunov, at a White House gala under the Carter Administration. I was accused of being unpatriotic as well as temperamental.

~Gelsey Kirkland [buy]

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