Skiing seemed like a good idea...

When I was in high school, I had several friends who would take ski trips every year and come back with lift tickets clipped to their jackets that they would wear for the rest of the winter (and the next)--now that I think about it, that was a nerdy thing, wasn't it? But it seemed cool at the time. It was one of those things that I must have been a little jealous of, because it became one of those things that I started to feel wasn't a real thing--I couldn't visualize myself doing it.

There have been times where I've broken the bubble of surrealism--one time I was walking down Broadway in New York, and, suddenly realizing where I was, was overwhelmed by the feeling--it had been such an abstract concept to me that Broadway was actually a street that existed somewhere. Come to think of it, New York City gave me that feeling everywhere I went--famous architecture, Central Park, and . Another "worlds colliding" feeling has happened when I have personally seen beautiful paintings in person that I had previously seen prints of: Monet (favorite), Rubens (surprising to me), Renoir. Nothing compares to seeing it in life.

So, all the fantasy stopped when, after long struggles, almost certain cancellation due to no snow, and kid-wrangling for over an hour, I found myself at the top of my personal Mount Everest (AKA the top of the Bunny Slope). At was at that poignant moment that I realized what skiing really is. Abstract concepts faded: Skiing is actually sliding down a mountain with the slightest deluision of control via slick boards strapped to your feet! This is in no way an easy thing to learn! If someone tells you that it is, they are lying just so they can laugh at you in your near-death dilemma.

Keep in mind that I am a "flatlander". The highest hill in our city is the mound of trash at the dump, which wafts like potpourri for miles...Ahhhhh.

Luckily, I had Nate and Nicole with me to serve as witnesses and direct the rescue team to scrape my carcass off the rocks when the inevitable happened...

This is how you teach someone how to ski, apparently: Just yell at them to "Make a wedge!!!" If the student looks like he is about to fall off the side of the mountain, just say it louder and repeatedly...

Seriously, though, I was so thankful they were there--it was such a foreign concept that we wouldn't have attempted it without their help...Of course, it was a beating of phenomenal proportions for them, I'm sure. I had to helplessly watch as they helped my 6-year-old boy out-ski me like crazy down the mountain. We were told that he would probably pick it up pretty quickly...and he seemed to.

Just about that time, I learned what a face-plant was...I left an impression like one of those plaster-of-paris death masks on the side of Bogus Basin--kind of an inverse Mount Rushmore type of thing. Then I remembered "Hey, this is how Sonny Bono went out..."

I realized that I was stressing out about Ryan every time I would go up with him, so eventually I took a couple of trips down the slope pretty much by myself, which was much more fun and relaxed.

A highlight of the day was when my wife Fran, who merely one week before had mustered the stamina to outshop the rest of San Francisco at a seven-storied Macy's, decided to try skiing. Now, Fran is not widely known for her athleticism, but I was really proud of her for having the guts to try this, so I curiously watched as she assembled herself and went up the ski lift. I turned to Nicole and told her "Right about now, she's trying to figure a way out of this."

Second-hand account begins here (as related through multiple sources):

Fran, slides off the ski lift and starts heading over the side of the mountain. Nate has to ski in front of her and body-block her from going over. Looks up.

"Is there any other way down this mountain?"
"Could I just lay down and roll back down?"
"Why don't they just let you ride the ski lift back down? I would come out here just to do that--it's so beautiful..."
"I don't think I can do this"
"I can't believe they won't let me ride down the ski lift"

Then, when the inevitable finally sank in:

"Shit Shit shit!" (Yes, this is my dear, sweet wife we are talking about, here).

She made it down in one piece, I think with just one fall, although I think Nate had a grip on her and held her up as she came down the slope. One trip was enough. At the bottom, she is rumored to have said "Thank you Lord Jesus, Amen", a reference to a line from Places in the Heart...

Nate's response "Don't you think Jesus heard you at the top of the mountain, too?" (grinning--see photo below).

Two days later I was so sore I could barely stand up, but still glowing from the experience--it was really a highlight of our trip.

Do you think it would be too nerdy for me to leave my lift ticket on my jacket for a little while?