So....I was just wandering if you all might have a funny story that could be a potential candidate for AFV or otherwise the cause of flushed cheeks at the time, but a source of amusement after the egocentric hematoma subsided? At the risk of too much self disclosure, I will relate one, for medicinal purposes and the amusement of others.
A few weeks ago, I was skiing with one of my kids, now grown, but who had never seen me ski as we were engaged in other activities as they grew up. It was my second day on the slopes after many years and I was fairing pretty well, scarving a bit here and there but generally impressing myself and the youngin at times. So, against my better judgement and at the urging of the kid, we did a bit of filming. Which, I am sure for those less technique savvy would have looked decent. Reveling in my new found film star status among the younger group and her friends, absorbing comments like, "wow dad, that was good, who'd a thunk" with returns like not bad for an old man hugh?
Minutes later as I was sliding into the lift line, looking down to raise my jacket a bit so my ticket attached to my pants could be scanned and litterally teetered and then fell over sideways, nearly causing domino action across the line. Pretty much doing everything I could do to hide my face as I am sure people's eyes were slamming into the back of their heads as the ocular momentum couldn't possibly be slowed.
And it gets better, on the ride up, still a bit disheveled from the event, I didn't pay attention to clearing my poles as I exited the chair and one got stuck in the frame. In that split second instead of releasing the pressure which would have resulted in release of the pole, I opted to do the manly thing and hold tightly, which wedged it tighter. The result, holding my one good pole, I watched as the other made it's way back down bent in a u-shaped ninety around lower arm of the chair. What did I do, well, skied back down with one pole to await the arrival of my adhoc race engineered pole stuck in the chair. As it arrived, the operator fetched it for me and I again did the manly thing, tried to straighten out the now defunked aluminum pole, promptly snapping it, handing it back to the operator who had a wry smile, I sheepishly asked him if he could kindly dispose of the remnents. So as I review the nifty footage of my return to skidom, I am humbled by the thought of subsequent events. Keeps me grounded.....
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