"So, that's it?" (fiction)

Some might say this sketch is the product of a sick mind.  Actually, this one was two sick minds--a combined effort for a fiction class exercise.  Collaborating with another writer can make unexpected things happen and get you unstuck.

"So, that's it?" Her eyes were eager, but her tone was reproachful.

"Yes." The doctor was ashamed that the goal of triplets was not reached after the third try and three sets of twins.

"Nothing more?" Her hands stretched out, palms up, demanding.

"No.  I don't think so.  That's really it." He avoided her gaze, trying to sound dismissive and firm.  He hated to disappoint his patients.

"So that's it?" she said again harder, as if to give him another chance to give her the answer she wanted.

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry the results weren't what you were hoping for." He writhed.

"This is the third time this has happened!"

"Look. This isn't a foolproof procedure.  You've gotten two sets of twins, four beautiful girls. You're going to have another two.  Most people would be happy.  No, wait, most people would have been freaked out!  Why do you insist on triplets?"

"Of course I'm happy!  I love all my girls more than the world. They were just supposed to turn out.. a certain way."

"Things don't always turn out the way we want. Were they supposed to be blue-eyed and red-headed too?"

"No, nothing like that. I just... I always wanted to be one of triplets.  I want to give that gift to my children."

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand; twins and triplets are very similar.  What's so special about triplets?" the doctor asked, moving toward his desk.  He picked up the phone and dialed security.

First lines that really grab you

In a fiction class I took, one of our class exercises was to write ten first lines that would grab a reader and make them want to keep reading to find out what happens next.  The following were what I came up with.  (This strategy is really good for finding a story to write because writing a single sentence with the suggestion of conflict to come is not very intimidating, and it gives you choices.  If you have ten crazy first sentences, you can choose the one that seems the most intriguing/doable.)

 The time had finally come when Sheila realized she was completely, totally, irrevocably stuck.

When Bob looked out the bedroom window and saw the tank's cannon pointed straight at him, he knew the jig was up.

She woke up to the sound of the dog having a grand mal seizure at the foot of the bed, lots of snapping and shaking.

I was born because my mother was determined to take revenge on my father.

He came home from school committed to starting a hunger strike.

Even with a height of 8' 3", Jamison was the most normal member of his family.

It all started when the cat began to glow.

The beginning of the end for the museum curator was when Miss Bradshaw wore Tomato Passion Red lipstick to work.

My math teacher didn't know it, but today was the day I was going to take over the class.

The snowstorm was both the coldest thing and the luckiest thing that ever happened to Jenny.

Birthday card ideas

My fourth year at BYU, I was given the church calling "birthday committee co-chair."  I magnified my calling by making and sending birthday cards to people in the ward.  Since it would have been too expensive to buy cards, I made them using a stash of pictures I cut out of magazines.  The following are some of my best card ideas.

 1) Though she could not speak their language, Amy acted out the appropriate way to handle a celebratory incendiary desert and the natives soon got the idea.

2) Marvin celebrated by going on a jumprope binge.
Hope your birthday finds you jumping for joy.

3) How.  Paleface mark passing of another 12 moons of life.  Make-um cake.  Stuff-um face.  Happy-um birthday.

4) “I didn’t order steak!” 
Hope your birthday brings you a PLEASANT surprise.

5) If he could spear the elusive and tasty cakefish, he could feed his family for many moons.

6) Hope_you_have_a_wonderful_birthday@today.org

7) The candles have been out for an hour!  You can stop blowing now!
In the Middle East they believe in thoroughness, even in the matter of blowing out the flames of birthday candles.

8) “Hold it!  What’s that glow?”
“Sir, I believe the subject is having a birthday party.  Those are the candles from the cake.”
Lit birthday candles visible from low geo-synchronous orbit is a little much, don’t you think?

9) (picture of pirates fighting on the beach)
The birthday boy ALWAYS gets the first piece of cake!

10)  (picture of lion attacking man’s arm)
The birthday boy ALWAYS gets the first bite.

11) (picture of man & boy both with gas masks on)
Okay you may light the birthday candles.

12)  (picture of Bridget Bardot hugging a mule)
It’s your birthday; have you hugged your donkey yet?

13) "Why Charles, you look famished!  Bob, get this man some birthday cake!"
It has been proven that the human body can not go more than 365 days without it. 

14) Five feet later, the tire blew again.
May your life’s journey be like traveling in a lambourgini hot rod with air conditioning & TWO spare tires in the trunk.

15) (picture of emperor penguins)
Although dressed in their finest birthday suits, the penguins were turned away at the door.

16) (picture of a bolt of lightning)
Aha!  You lied about your age again!

17)  *pssssst*!  Hey buddy! My sources tell me someone’s having a birthday.  You wouldn’t happen to know who that would be, would you? 

18)  (picture of big fire)
Your cake’s on fire!  Too many candles!  Too many candles!  Happy Birthday!

19) (picture of sinking boat)
I have the sinking feeling I missed your birthday.  Forgive? 

20) (picture of Buddist monk)
Remember, begger who sit in marketplace is deaf to song of nightinggale.  (That’s Buddist for “Happy Birthday”)

21) (picture of tornado)
It's your birthday.  Play so hard that God has to clean up after you.

22) (picture of old man strumming a guitar)
Happy birthday, and all that jazz.  No blues allowed.

23)  (picture of men in pitch helmets sitting around a table outside)
"If you sit, it will come."
11 British philosophers try out a new theory about birthday cakes.
365 1/4 days is a LOOOONG time to wait.

24) (picture of racks of trenchcoats)
Failed products of yesteryear: A Troelstrup Birthday Suit.
From what we can see, yours looks as good as the day you got it.  Happy Birthday to you!  (and your "suit" too!)

25) Marvin subscribed to the belief that anything worth doing was worth overdoing.
Don't forget to brush your teeth after all that cake and ice cream.

26) (picture of concert pianist staring at the camera in surprise)
You want me, a world famous concert pianist worth millions of dollars to play WHAT?
Happy birthday to you...

Brought to you by the Rabid Stamp-Wielding Birthday Fairy

The pool drain (fiction)

"Mrs. Elsley, I'm calling about your daughter.  She's in a lot of trouble, and she has a lot of explaining to do."

"What happened?"

"She pulled the plug in the swimming pool."

"Oh dear.  Did she come up alright?"

"Oh yes, she did, Mrs. Elsley, but now the rest of the school is flooded."

"Goodness!  Did she splash that much?  She's always been a splasher; ever since she was little bathtime has been a rather wet affair.."

"No, Mrs. Elsley, she didn't splash.  It was the unplugged swimming pool."

"I don't see how merely pulling a plug could flood an entire school."

"The pool is on the second floor, Mrs. Elsley."

"Whose smart idea was that?!"

"Disgruntled architect, Mrs. Elsley.  He had it in for the superintendent of the district and somehow convinced her that it was a great idea to have the Olympic-sized swimming pool on the second floor."

"Well, that's asking for trouble, but surely there were pipes to drain the water properly.  Was there a
crack in the bottom of the pool?"

"No, no cracks.  The bottom is in perfect condition."

"I don't understand."

"The fire sprinklers, Mrs. Elsley; the swimming pool's drain leads directly to the fire sprinklers."

"The architect?"
"Uh-huh."
"Oh dear. But why would he..."
"Brilliant idea to save water.  This is Las Vegas, you know."

Glacierview (fiction)

This sketch has certain flaws, but the idea behind it still tickles me.  I like the idea of setting up a ridiculous situation and revealing it piece by piece through bare conversation.

"Glacierview Hotel, can I help you?"

"Um, yes, I wanted to confirm I have a reservation for a room?"

"Which room number was that, do you remember?"

"No, not really; I just assumed you'd remember."

"Well, we have the computer keep track of that. What’s your last name?”

“Paxton.”

“Hmm, the computer says you've vacationed here before."

"Yep, had a great time too."

"And you put in a request a year in advance for the same room that you enjoyed before, correct?"
"I believe so.”

"Unfortunately, Mr. Paxton, that request is impossible to fulfill."

"You gave my reservation away? But I made it so far in advance!"

"No, we didn't exactly give it away.  No.  It was sort of…taken."
"By--"

"The glacier.  You know, Glacierview?  The name of this establishment?"

"Oh yes, that makes sense.  I was wondering why there was a wall of ice and snow just ten feet outside my window then.  My kids loved it, though; they had an indoor snowball fight every day.."

"For which damage you paid most generously."

"Flimsy furnishings, I call it."

"Anyway, that room, in fact that entire wing, has been smeared away by the glacier.  Just last month, it was.  BUT!  We anticipated that and immediately began building the next wing on the side of the hotel furthest from the glacier."

"Wait, hasn't this happened several times before?  I remember reading about it in a news magazine back home.  How many new wings have been added onto the hotel since it was first opened?"

"Oh, about ten."

"Ten?"

"Yeah, our hotel is forced to become a bit of a glacier itself, in order to survive." 

(submitted to ANWA newsletter Sept 2016)

Smaller than a bread box

Incorporating silliness makes it fun to write things.  


“Hi, I’m calling about the space for rent?”

“Space, space… OH, yes, the space for rent.  We have all different kinds of space.  What kind do you need?”

“Just a small space.”

“Smaller than a bread box?”

“Well, I need some elbow room.”

“There’s room enough in a bread box to wiggle one’s elbow.”

“But that’s if I only need the space for my elbow.  No, I need to fit in the space too.”

“How big are you, sir?”

“Smaller than a bread box.”

“ARRRRRRRGG!”

“Just kidding!  Calm down!”

Satire: Instructions for portable CD player

  This was written back in the day when portable CD players were the new thing.  I got one for Christmas and was annoyed/amused by the instructions that came with it.  Were people really that clueless?  Enjoy...

For some reason, since NAFTA moved American jobs across the border, manufacturers have been convinced that buyers have become bi-lingual and stupid.  I give you the example of the instructions for my portable compact disc player  The instructions and warnings are printed on a large sheet of paper that somehow folds out and wouldn't you know, you end up reading about Lector de discos compactos personal instead of your compact disc player. 

Fortunately I don't think anything of that, I simply turn the sheet over.  Ahh, Englais.  Bueno. 

     Just to make sure we know what a large amount of responsibility we have just taken upon ourselves by buying a lowly CD player, the Federal Communications Commission tells us that it "complies" with their rules that say:

·      This device must accept any interference received, including interference that may cause undesired operation  (translation: This thing can be interfered with by siblings.  It has the capability to break.)

·      This device may not cause harmful interference  (translation: Being an inanimate object, this CD player does not have fuzzy logic enough to kill you or scramble any electronic transmissions to certain life-sustaining machines, like pacemakers.  This would explain why no one ever played a game of Clue in which the victim was murdered by CD player wielded by Colonel Mustard in the library.)

   

I find it very interesting that the FCC expressly forbids changes or modifications to the CD player and further threatens that to do so could void the user's authority to operate the product.  Personally, I think that if someone has the know-how and the creativity to soup up a portable CD player, it would give them authority over the manufacturers to operate the factory itself. 

On to "Headset Safety"...

     Remember, boys and girls, don't listen to your earphones at high volume, because it could damage your parents' generosity next time you want to get something with the potential to be much louder.  (There are a few members of my family who would not get an electric guitar with amplifiers, even if they brown-nosed for a year.)  Also, use extreme, and I mean extreme, caution or temporary discontinue use in potentially hazardous situations, like when your mother has just put a gun to your head for not listening when she's told you time and time again to clean that pathetic excuse for a room.

On battery operation...

     Here's where it really gets insulting.  We are provided with a precise diagram of the bottom of the CD player along with highly detailed instructions on how to open the battery case.  Duh, you just slide that thingie that way and...well doggone,  Ooommph.... oommmmmmmpppphhhhh.....eerrrrrrrrggghhghh...That's odd.  This would be the time that I can't get it open, wouldn't it?!  Where'd those dang instructions go....

..........(insert rummaging noises, sounds of plastic grating on plastic)....."..and slide the door shut."  I generally take pride in being the battery door expert on the planet, but that thing completely defied my expertise!  That was the queen-mother of all battery doors.  *Whew!*   I'm lucky I didn't get a hernia. 

If I want to charge up some nifty rechargeable batteries, the instructions are adamant on plugging the jack into the wall.  First of all, who is Jack, and why would anyone want to plug him into the wall?  Does he get some kind of charge out of the experience?  Shocking! 

How to use earphones, or, if you need extensive training for this, you're a first-class idiot...

     The almighty instructions say that the CD player is equipped with an earphone jack.  "Plug the barrel end of the headphones cord into the jack for private listening."  Duh. (eye roll)  Plug the headphones into the intercom for public listening.  Plug the headphones into your nose so it can get into the act as well.  Plug the barrel end into your nose and then go see a doctor, and while you're at it, a psychologist. 

Features / The fun part / For all you obsessive compulsive button pushers

     Now I get to list all the stuff included in the whole package and change the name so they are unrecognizable!  Let the fun begin!

·      deluxe earplugs (headphones)

·      the red light/green light button (play/pause for when you have to hear what Mommy is saying)

·      the musical chairs button (stop)

·      the picky listener button (search <</>>)

·      the "pop-goes-the-weasel" button (open)

·      the button which utilizes a system designed to enhance lower audible frequencies  (da bass boost)

There's one more feature that I didn't know they had added since my first ancient CD player about six years ago.  It's called the hold button, but it doesn't put you on hold, because you're already listening to music and that would be stupid.  It doesn't put the music on hold because that would be essentially the same as pushing the pause button, plus music listening to hold music is just a weird idea.  The hold button, I found out, puts the buttons themselves on hold, so that pesky siblings cannot press buttons and disrupt your musical nirvana. 

How to get music to come out of those weird little round flat things...

    Now, everyone knows that some people have to have everything spelled out for them or they do things wrong and they crash their computer and somehow end up starting thermonuclear war or something.  CD players are the same way.  If the batteries get put in the wrong way, the polarity is reversed, which causes an opposing force on the earth's magnetic field.  The earth's magnetic field scrambles, and through some very complicated process involving the Dynamo effect, the earth begins to spin backward, we start rotating around the sun backward, time goes backward, and WAMMO,  we get flung straight back to the ice age!  Very dangerous these machines are...

So here goes.

#1...Turn CD player right side up.  You'll know it's right side up if you can see a bunch of buttons in plain sight that you can push.  DON'T PUSH THEM YET!!!

#2... Buy a CD.  It's one of those round flat things that comes in a flat box that takes forever to open without Mommy's help.  Oh, and it has one shiny side.  You don't want to touch the shiny side.  

#3... Push the button that says 'open'.  If you can't read, find someone who can to point to it for you.  If they try to push the button for you, fight them.  You can push your own buttons. 

#4... Put that round flat thing inside the mouth of the CD player.  Make sure that thing-a-ma-whatsit is stuck on the doo-dad. 

#5... Close the door of the CD player.

#6... Buy some AA batteries.  AA batteries are smaller than A batteries, but bigger than AAA batteries.  If you touch the B or C or D batteries Mommy will slap your hand. 

#7... I said "buy" the AA batteries, not "steal" them! 

#8... Okay, earn the money to pay for the AA batteries you stole. 

#9... Get big brother to put the batteries in for you. 

#10.  Plug the earphones into the little hole on the side that has a picture of earphones next to it.  

#11.  Push the play button with the arrow on it. 

#12.  Move that little dial that makes the music louder.  (Funny how the loudness of your parents' voices is directly proportional to the volume of your music!)

Troubleshooting Guide.....(as taught by Annie Oakley)

    Howdy part'ners!  Much as I luv shootin’ troublesome varmints, there ain’t any guns involved in this here section.  So, I'm thinking yer all wonderin' why a troubleshootin' guide was put in these here instrucshuns.  It's cause all them folk at tec support got mighty tired-a you-all callin' about every lil problem.  They figger mebbe if they put it in there, you might be able t’ figger it out what’s wrong your ownselves!  I getta tell ya what to do; granted some of these here questions are so obvious, I'd shoot my ownself if I didn't know the answer right off.   (Okay, okay, I'll drop the accent...)  

    The one that always gives people problems -- the little round flat thing is where it is supposed to be, but darn it, there isn't any music coming out!!!  WHY?!  Okay, we're going to go through a little checklist here.

·      Try putting the plug into the wall socket...or batteries if you prefer.  No, the batteries don’t go in the wall socket.  They go in the battery case. 

·      Is the disc in right side up?

·      Close the door, silly!

·      If all these don't help, then the CD player must not like you and you must appease it by offering sacrifices to the god of AC.

Here's another common one -- what if the sound is skipping?

·      The little round flat thing must be scratched.  Don't play frisbee with it anymore.

·      Hmmmm.  There must be excessive external vibration.  Find a more stable position.  Stop hitting your siblings over the head with the CD player..........There, see what an improvement that is?

·      When all else fails, skip along with the skipping music.  If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

Okay, we're moving up in the world.  The little round flat thing is where it is supposed to be, it's playing, but darn it, there isn't any sound!  What's going on?!

·      Try plugging in your headphones.  These things don't have speakers all by themselves. 

·      Your headphones are plugged in?  Congratulations!  Now turn up the volume. 

NOT THAT MUCH!!!!!

Ouch.

Care and maintenance or How to be nice to your CD player

    Do not (never, ever, nuh-uh) touch the laser lens.  If you do, the laser lens genie will appear in a puff of smoke and melt you like the wicked witch of the west.  Fortunately, there is a way to clean the laser lens without invoking the wrath of the laser lens genie.  Simply moisten a cotton swab with isopropyl alcohol and gently apply to the face of the laser lens, rubbing gently until all traces of melted people are removed.  If you don't have a doctorate in chemistry that is required to even know what isopropyl alcohol is, just lick the lens.  Saliva can't be that bad for it.

Precautions

    Discs rotate at high speed inside the player.  Do not use damaged, warped, or cracked discs.  If you defy this warning and play a warped CD, the consequences could be disastrous to the entire planet!  A warped CD rotates irregularly.  If enough people play warped CDs, the irregularities might add up and counter balance the earth's rotation and bring it to a stop.  The side of earth facing the sun would proceed to roast while the other side of the earth would freeze to death.    So, please save the world and don't play damaged, warped, or cracked CDs. 

The Limited Warranty...from your friendly, (but cautious) helpful (but very suspicious) manufacturers

    I notice they are very careful what language they use when describing this warranty.  If they said "unlimited warranty", it stands to reason that you might be able to get them to pay for anything unfortunate that happens to you.  ("Buy a CD player, get life insurance!")

This warranty covers everything for a full year EXCEPT:

·      The instruction manual -- if you're not sure what to do when your CD player decides to spontaneously combust, call technical support.  That's what they're there for.  They will give you helpful advice.  ("Whoa!  That's totally cool!  Roast some marshmallows over it, dude!")

·      Installation.  If you can't figure out where the headphones go, ask Mommy.  Or read the directions.  Or just try sticking the jack someplace where it looks like it might fit. 

·      Damage from misuse and neglect.  And you'd better be glad there isn't a government agency that deals with neglected CD players.  If it was anything like the government agency that is responsible for neglected and abused children, we'd all be spending a little time in the slammer.

·      Modified products.  Like I said before, if you know enough to soup-up a CD player, technical support sure as heck ain't gonna be able help you figure out what went wrong when you plugged the adapter into the wall socket and all the lights went out...

·      CD players bought or fixed outside the USA.   Technical support no speako Spanisho.  Speako onlyo Englisho.

·      ACTS OF GOD  like lightning striking you as you head-bang to Marilyn Manson or AC/DC.  As far as I know, this is the only time the business world becomes religious.  Perhaps "acts of God" are those things that happen for no reason with no warning which the manufacturers don't want to pay for.

    As you see, being the owner of a CD player is highly dangerous.  The slightest mistake could initiate cataclysmic natural disasters of incomprehensible magnitude.  The operation thereof could also anger many people, a few being parentals, the laser lens genie, the god of AC, the technical support people, and even your garbage man if you throw away too many damaged, warped, or cracked CDs.   

    If you don't feel up to it, you can exchange your CD player for a simple Walkman - combination tapeplayer and radio.  I'll tell you about those responsibilities some other time.........

Parlimentary procedure, or "beating the dead horse"

From my skewed viewpoint, parliamentary procedure is too ridiculous to go uncommented upon.  You'll see why soon enough.

   First of all, speakers in parliament must be recognized by the chair before they are allowed to speak.  We have no way of knowing how a chair can do such a thing and even when, since for all intents and purposes a chair is an inanimate object.  A person could live their whole life and never know that they were recognized by a chair.  Because of this, a person is selected to speak for the chair, and for lack of a better name. is given the title "chairperson."  The chairperson possesses amazing psychic abilities, for they sense who the chair chooses to recognize, and the chairpersom makes that choice known to the rest of us. 

Speakers ask for permission to speak by rising and saying, "Mr. or Madame Chair."  (Notice the speaker must address the chair, not the chairperson.)  The chairperson then states whether the chair recognizes the speaker.  If the speaker is recognized, then they can continue to speak or make a motion.  (Usually speakers make a motion in their lower jaw as they speak, so motions are unavoidable.)

   Each motion must be seconded.  Whether this means a vote must be raised in favor of the speaker's moving jaw, or whether it means that a second person must also move their jaw the same way, I don't know.  (Hmm.  I sense this line of thought is already beating a dead horse.

   Now, beating a dead horse is a different motion altogether.  If no one seconds my beating of the dead horse, I must stop beating it.  However, if someone else decides it is a good idea, they can second the motion by also beating the dead horse.

 

   We'll assume my motion of beating the dead horse was seconded., so the chairperson says that the chair has called for a debate on the motion of beating a dead horse.  (At this, everyone looks at their neighbor and shrugs, because no one heard anything that sounded remotely like a chair raising its voice, and the chairperson could be just plain nuts, but maybe the sound of the dead horse being beaten drowned out the chair.)

Then people begin to debate the beating of the dead horse.  (I don't know if the beating stops for the debate or not.  Well, I suppose it'd have to because that would be too many motions which would each have to be seconded.)  Speakers can speak for five minutes about the ethics of the beating, and the chair has to remember to alternate hearing speakers for and against the beating.  Speakers can propose amendments to the beating of the dead horse, but those have to be considered a separate beating in and of themselves, thus requiring someone to second them and everybody to debate them.  The amendment to the beating of the dead horse must be voted on before the actual beating can be voted upon. 

When everyone has commented for or against the beating who desired to, the chair calls for the question (vote) on the actual beating of the dead horse (which by now should be very very dead).  If someone objects to the question being called on the grounds that the whole thing is stupid and it is beating a dead horse to continue to even talk about it, then the chair can call for a previous question, and everyone can vote on whether to vote on whether to continue to beat the dead horse.  The vote is carried out by saying "yea" or "nay".  If everyone yells "YEA!", then the horse is definitely dead.  BUT!  If there is a resounding "NEIGH!" , then the horse is not quite as dead as we thought and needs to be beaten some more.

An example of what happens when you are allowed to mix satire into school reports. Case: Skiing.

The following was written back in high school as a make-up assignment for gym class for having missed school for a family vacation up in Wisconsin.  Gratifyingly, my gym teacher gave me an A and never said anything against my use of satire.

            Skiing is when you strap a long, thin board to each foot and subject yourself to the acceleration due to gravity, starting from a position of high potential energy.  You balance your center of gravity and allow your mass to overcome the force of friction upon your skis, causing a steady acceleration, while converting your potential energy into kinetic energy.  During all of this, the pleasure center of the brain sends out positive charges in attempt to overcome the reasoning center of the brain (which sends out negative charges) with a feeling of euphoria.  Finally, the reasoning center of the brain takes over, and while activating the adrenal glands for a possible emergency, calmly decides on a route that would not cause any damage in an inelastic collision.  This process is repeated over and over until the inelastic collision does indeed occur, or the muscles of the body eventually experience a deficiency of oxygen and ATP.  (Can you tell I was studying physics before I wrote this?)

            “Skiing is the act of gliding over snow on long narrow runners called skis.” (World Book Encyclopedia).  Now see, I could’ve put that first, but it would insult my creativity, not to mention only taking up a couple of lines.  (Brevity is death in all school reports such as this.)

            Did you know there’s such a thing as ballet freestyle skiing?  It combines movements from figure skating and gymnastics.  The skiers perform to music and do spins, pirouettes, rolls, somersaults, etc.  Fancy Nancy Kerrigan and Tanya Harding in that kind of scenario!

            One branch of skiing I’ve often wondered about is ski jumping, where you slide down a steep track and fly off the platform at the end.  I always assumed at the back of my mind that the track was actually supposed to be an artificial hill and some prankster kept bending the end up to make the skiers go airborne, freak out, and do a crash-dive into a drift.  Who knows?  Maybe that’s how it started!  But I stray from the point. Jumpers are judged on how far their leap goes, on their grace and poise, as well as the severity of their landing.  (Oops, just kidding on that last one.)

Judge 1: My goodness, I’ve never seen such grace and poise in all my life!

Judge 2: Indeed! He only screamed once, and that spread-eagle position is so…so… free and artistic!

Judge 1: And that flip… it.. conveyed so much raw emotion!

            Most ski jumping is done on 70 or 90 meter hills, meaning the typical jump distances from the end of the track are 70 to 90 meters long.  Oooo.  I notice in the encyclopedias they never say what happens when the skier embraces Mother Earth once more.  This means that either the encyclopedia is keeping ski jumpers’ trade secrets, or ski jumpers are exorbitantly paid to keep quiet about their injuries.

   

         Cross-country skiing is what people do before they ultimately realize the existence of snowmobiles.  When cross-country skiing, there are different techniques with their own special name.  There’s the “diagonal stride” (like jogging, but a lot harder and colder because it’s outside on skis), the “skate” (like rollerskatting, only a lot harder and colder because it’s outside on skis), and the “herringbone”, which distinctly resembles something that is NOT a herringbone.  What is undeservedly called a “herringbone” is actually the reverse of the “snowplow” maneuver of slowing down, but that doesn’t mean that the herringbone makes you accelerate.  The herringbone is used to climb up steep hills and is commonly seen of cross-country skiers who haven’t yet realized that climbing that steep hill is a lot easier and faster if you just take your skis off and use snowshoes instead.  But who knows?  Maybe it’s actually a sub-competition to see who can go beyond their target heart rate and have a violent heart attack first.  (And if there’s a tie, then the one who gets the prettiest nurse wins.)

           A form of downhill skiing that you will never try if you value your life and limb is “schussing.”  This involves skiing straight down a hillside without any turns or stops.  I personally believe the name came from the sound of German skiers shushing their comrades to silence so that they’d be able to hear the impact of that stupid skier who just raced straight past them and who had decided involuntarily to become close friends with some pine tree.  The route schussers take, which is the most direct way to the bottom, is quite literally called (I swear I am NOT making this up.  It is there in the encyclopedia—volume S-Sn, page 485) the “fall line.”  How’s that for telling it like it is?  Another cool term is “sitzmark,” or the indentation left in the snow by a fallen skier.  (That would make an impression on anybody.   Yes, the pun was deliberate.  (grin))

           In conclusion, I must say that I do like to ski.  I’m not very good at it, but I like it, especially when someone else pays for me to go.  But if I’ve learned anything from my research on skiing, it is this—always ALWAYS  look both ways before you cross the fall line.