Thursday, January 10, 2008

What Would Brian Boitano Do?

In case you don’t know, that’s the name of a hilarious song from the South Park movie.

But last night, I could relate to it because I had my first skating lesson. Intermediate level, mind you. I’m pretty jazzed over it.

Aside from almost breaking my wrist during a nasty fall, it all went very well. I’ve always wanted to learn to skate backwards, but never could figure out how to get going backwards. I'd turn around and just stand there like a gumdrop, not knowing how to go.

Well, last night, after the instructor demonstrated the proper technique I was the first one to the other side of the rink. Backwards. HA!

Then, we learned to skate on one foot with arms outstretched. I sort of kept meandering in circles rather than straight ahead. Must practice that.

I took a fall when we were learning that stopping technique. You know, when the ice skaters come to a sudden stop by sliding sideways, sending shards of ice flying. (Ever so dramatic).

I was practicing it, but not paying attention. Instead I was singing along to the music. That song from the ‘60’s by Scott McKenzie, If You’re Going to San Francisco was playing over the music system and I couldn’t help but sing along to that haunting tenor melody. While I was practicing my sudden stops.

Boom. Down I went and landed really hard on my wrist. If I hadn’t been wearing heavy gloves, I SO would have broken it.

I see little kids falling all the time. Blip! And they get right back up, no big deal.

But I’m six-foot-five on my hockey skates. And 225 pounds. That’s a lot of falling to do, believe me. (These skating lessons will really give me incentive to drop some weight - - it would be SO much easier without the extra poundage).

Afterward, we got to have the rink to ourselves for about an hour before the public skating resumed. I was so excited over having learned so much. I asked one of my fellow students, a small young woman, if I could practice an overhead lift with her. She wouldn’t let me.

I got to thinking about the horrible phys. ed. classes while growing up; getting picked last when teams were chosen for dodge ball, day after day.

Oh! How I would love to have those arrogant jocks from Texas out on the ice and see how they would do! I would just point and laugh, then choose them last for my skating team. Then hurl dodge balls at them.

The lessons continue for the next two months. Hopefully, by then I’ll have dropped twenty pounds and have a butt like Brian Boitano.

We’ll see.

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At 4:09 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just in case you never get the opportunity to pick them last, you should know that the arrogant jocks now have 13 kids and live in a trailer where a loud woman in hair curlers continuously yells at them for not shoveling the driveway in front of the carport. They are miserable, and we are gay.

See? Karma.

At 5:26 PM , Blogger Buck said...

JP: Yep. You're so right. I've sensed a lot of misery at my class reuinions. Karma really does exist.

At 8:49 PM , Blogger Lorraine said...

I'm very glad you didn't break anything.

And I love you, but I wouldn't let you do an overhead whatcha thingy with me either.

Of course, doing an overhead whatcha thingy with me would require one of those hernia-prevention belts and a winch.

At 4:07 AM , Blogger Speck said...

If you achieve Boitano buttness, we want pictures.

At 2:38 PM , Blogger Buck said...

Lorraine: Yes, I must go buy some wrist guards for next time. THEN we can do the overhead thing.

Speck: If I achieve that, I'll be looking in the mirror. A lot.


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