Sandlot-Skiing

Though I have been up on water skis a few times back in the day, I have never been snow skiing in my life. From age 22 onward for the next eight years, I lived, went to school and worked in the Bay Area, San Jose to be precise. It seemed my friends all skied and they were always after me to join in the fun.

The author of Mark's Work:
The personification of a yuppie skier.

I played “sandlot” baseball, basketball, football and field hockey, to name a few of my favorite sports, so it was natural that I would take up skiing. Is there even such a thing as sandlot-skiing? Friends redoubled their efforts to get me on the slopes after a couple of lake experiences, with me getting up on two water skis, and finding that it was quite a rush.

Nonetheless, I resisted, using as my number one excuse the fact that I do not like being cold. Because cold is a prerequisite for any snow activity, I painted myself out of the picture without ever even giving it a shot, and you want to know something? I have never given the matter two cents’ worth of thought.

How can you regret, that which you have not experienced?

It goes without saying that by denying myself the opportunity to even try skiing, I was denying myself the possibility of discovering new highs in life. There is supposed to be little comparable to the thrill of downhill skiing, the wind whistling through your goggles, you entire body tingling with adrenaline.

I might counter by pointing out that there is little comparable in life, in terms of pain, than blowing out a knee. I used this rationale a full decade before I actually did obliterate the anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee. Ironically enough, I was not on skis-I did it playing basketball.

So I didn't like cold and I had a thing about my knees being useful for my day-to-day life, but there was still one more factor to consider: cost. I have never made enough loot to be able to even consider skiing, and all it entails. I’m talking about having to travel somewhere, accommodations, meals, bar tabs and all of the accouterments of a successful ski trip.

On the salary of an auto parts clerk? Maybe in some other universe, but not at Lake Tahoe.

Had I met some goddess of the female persuasion, who suggested that it might be to my advantage to take up skiing, then I would probably have been tuning up Old Paint, my VW bus, to make the [long] trips. I’d be rolling my own, eating fast food and willing to leave the slopes late in the day, to make the six-hour drive home. That’s six hours if the highway did not turn into a parking lot.

Does not compute, does not compute, does not compute...

The reason I bring up the subject of skiing at this late juncture in time, is simply because this is only one of a long list of life’s experiences, that I have opted out of. I have also never jumped out of an airplane and have no plans to do so. The list can be as arbitrary as one likes.

You have to pick and choose those experiences that are actually within your grasp, in order to be successful at it, or else you end up somewhere in No-Man’s Land: You get into something part way, and end up over your head.

The gods know well enough that I have a hard enough time just keeping my head above water. I don’t need anything that will nudge it below the surface.

Cool colors, Bro, but no.
I. Don't. Think. So.