I Must Be Out Of My Mind

I am in Kandersteg. Part of the Swiss Alps. And tomorrow I am going skiing. I have not been downhill skiing since the church youth trip to Afton Alps when I was 15.  I was not particularly good at it and I spill down the hill losing both poles, both skies, my hat and a glove.

And now I’m going to attempt this again on a decidedly steeper slope.

I needed moral support so I texted Shaun. Here is our conversation.


Shaun: Come here. You can ski in the Rockies. Multi-continent.

Me: Fulfilling a life-long dream.

Me: I am going to die.

Me: You can have my record collection and my new computer.

Shaun: Don’t die. Bend your knees, slowly turn making lovely arcs down the mountain.

Me: Lovely arcs. Cartwheeling is still making arcs.

Shaun: If you yard sale it will be funny.

Me: If my blog was paying me for this story this would be worth it.

Shaun: I don’t remember enough technical stuff about skiing to be any help. You strap two sticks to your feet and throw yourself down a mountain.

Me: And I will even be sober.

Me: Well. I guess this is what the kids call a YOLO moment.

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