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December 30, 2005

ski trip

Came to ski but fate had other plans for me and mine. First, let me set the scene. Norway Mountain Ski Hill is the view in the top pan. In the photo below, the skier on the left is my daughter Breanna and the other is my niece Kathy. I brought my ski pants but Bre forgot hers. Being the great dad that I am, I gave her mine so I could not go skiing. No matter though, the crackling fire in the lodge's huge stone fire place looked more inviting than risking a broken bone or two. I brought Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck with me and was looking forward to reading it for the umpteenth time. After everyone disappeared down the slope, I busied myself for a cold winters nap by the fire.

As I was sitting there watching moms and dads dress their little ones for skiing with their little ski outfits and little ski boots, I began to think about my own. My youngest son Steven is 28. If I use the fingers on both hands and some advanced mathematics, I calculate as how he has been out of college for about six years, more or less. At Christmas dinner this year, he told me a story from his college days that he had neglected to tell me before. After hearing the story, I am glad he waited. The following is his story he calls "my first man drink" and I quote:

"In my second year of college, I was voted editor of the school paper and a bunch of us went out to one of the local drinking establishments to celebrate. A fellow female reporter offered to buy me a Statue of Liberty. That is a double shot of Schnapps. First you put your finger in the glass and wet it. Then you set your finger on fire and quickly drink the double shot. After which, you put out the fire. After downing the drink, I immediately did not feel good and sat down with my buddies. The more I sat there, the sicker I became. One of my friends was talking to two really good looking girls and looked like he was getting somewhere when I completely lost it. I barfed all over the table, floor and any thing else with in three feet. The girls bolted for the door and my friend never saw them again."

I know of what you are thinking; this is a sins of the father kind of thing. I'll save that for another post and another time.

I was sitting by the fire chuckling to myself when a neighbor of my brother-in-law, another member of our ski party, came in and said my daughter was at the bottom of the hill in the Ski Patrol hut. They (the Ski Patrol fellows) wanted to know if I could take the road down around the hill to the bottom where their hut is located and pick her up. He also told me her ski had caught the edge of some snow and she had taken a bad tumble. Her knee was in a lot of pain, and she could not walk unaided. Broken bone you ask? No the doctor said it was a severe knee strain and she would need to be on crutches for a spell. Just another story to tell my grand children some day.

Click on photos for larger views

Posted by roadapples at December 30, 2005 09:37 AM

Posted by: kenju at December 30, 2005 11:27 PM