WALKING MY WAYS
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WALKING MY WAYS. For the last week we have had an onslaught of rain. And cold. With possibly more coming next week. And I have expected the power to go off, any minute. And have checked my cache of candles, flashlights, battery-powered lanterns and the like. Waiting for that inevitable moment. But thankfully, so far it hasn’t come. And when it does, I realize how fortunate I am to have lights and heat. At the flick of a switch. When it works.
And in this manner, I decided it was time for a pedicure. And so I went to my favorite salon, at the Cross Roads. Early. And was given excellent attention. But couldn’t help noticing that the lady next to me, only slightly younger than I, had an elaborate tattoo on her calf. So I asked her what it was. “An elephant,” she informed me. Which I couldn’t identify, because of my angle. But it made me realize how very many people have tattoos. Of all different ages and sex.
Except for the women’s figure skaters, who seem to have none. And made me think of the Winter Olympics. Which really were amazing. But might also be called snow gymnastics. At least for much of it. As so much seemed to be focused on elaborate twists, turns and somersaults. All in the air. And definitely remarkable. In every way.
Years ago,I used to ski. And even started at an early age. In Switzerland. But at my last encounter, at Tahoe, I got hit by a snow boarder. Hard. Who casually observed, “Sorry, man, there’s a Lodge down the way.” Which also was the last time I skied. As I had lost a ski. And one lens, in my glasses. And had double vision. (For a month,) and a problem with my rotator cuff. And was in my late 70’s, at the time. So no more skiing. I decided. Then. There. And Now. Alas. Finis.


Hans, I can only imagine how watching those Olympic ski experts would bring back memories of days past. Being a Norwegian from no-snow San Francisco, I felt compelled to at least attempt cross-country skiing. I collided with Mother Earth enough times to make me give up such efforts.