(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy
Friday” email on 1/27/12.)
I think I’ll go skiing today.
I try to go on Wednesdays because that’s
when doctors are supposed to be there … at least that’s what I heard when I was
in high school. It’s comforting to know
they might be around, just in case … although it’s probably a long shot that I’d
find one who could fix a broken hip on the spot. In fact, I’m not sure I could spot any doctor
because they sometimes look a lot like normal people. I’d guess the best way to
track one down would be to scan the crowd for someone who looks smart, reserved,
and quite earnest … the kind of person who could look you straight in the eye
and tell you to “drop your pants, turn your head, and cough” … and still keep a
straight face. Right there, I know I
could never be a doctor.
I also heard from high
school pals that attractive young snow bunnies flock to ski areas on Wednesdays,
also because doctors are there. I’ve been looking forward to retirement to find
out for sure since I was always too chicken to skip school or my day job. After several disappointing trips to the
mountains though, I’m beginning to think that I may need to add this theory to
my growing list of Retirement
Misconceptions. Still, I might find
one in a singles line waiting to be paired up for a chair ride up the slope. Adding to my hope, I’ve discovered that it really
isn’t that hard to make myself appear younger by merely donning a helmet, large
goggles, a turtle-neck, and perhaps a face mask on really cold days. And, to put the bunnies at ease from stranger
danger, I always bring along gum to offer as an ice breaker. I’ve been practicing ways to make myself
interesting, such as telling “My Life as a Ski Champ” that’s timed to match the
duration of a typical chair-lift ride … thus leaving a dreamy impression when I
heartlessly part ways with them at the top. They’ll probably go home, dry out the gum, and
with a heavy sigh, put it in a keepsake box from Hallmark.
I’ll talk about my days as
an Olympic downhill racer in Lake Placid, New York … the year they didn’t have
enough snow, and the downhill event was moved to nearby Topeka, Kansas where
they had lots of snow. Yes, lots of snow
on the Corn Maze downhill course set in the breathtaking Prairie Bowl. Sure, there weren’t any speed records set
that year, but there also weren’t many injuries either … other than a few
strained shoulders as a result of the technical pole work required. Long forgotten by many, this Olympic site
change was recently returned to the spotlight by an independent, unbiased, and
non-partisan super PAC, Neoconservatives
Embolden With Tonsofmoney. In a
sugar-coated, party-unifying message directed at former Olympic Chairman, Mitt
Romney, the group respectfully announced, “Only an IMBICILE who was raised in
the Australian Outback by DINGOS would make such a PATHETIC decision that has
brought GRAVE harm to this great nation.
That’s an historical FACT!”
In an unrelated story leaked
to the press, confidential sources close to the Romney campaign reportedly
overheard a conversation among Gingrich insiders discussing his plan to
withdraw from the race to pursue an unexpected and more attractive opportunity. It is anticipated that the recovering family-values
candidate will soon ask current love interest, Callista Gingrich, for a trial
separation so he can accept a lucrative offer to become a 24/7 historian for
the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader squad.
Anyway, back to me … Yes, it
was very discouraging that, after all my Olympic training and skillful poling
on the grueling downhill course, I only managed to take fourth place. FOURTH! Sure, millions will remember those who won
Gold, Silver, and Bronze … but FOURTH placers? We roundly go unnoticed and are quickly
dismissed even though we were only .000017 of a second behind. But, I’m proud to say that we can handle it
because we have broad shoulders … broad shoulders and years of aroma therapy, huggy
support groups, and off-beat man-drumming.
We can even joke about it now. We
call ourselves Lead Medal Winners… huh, huh, kind of an inside joke. You wouldn’t want to say it to our faces
though … we’re still sorta edgy.
And, DON’T GET ME STARTED
about my Nobel Peace Prize “runner-up” experience. It’s like, you don’t get ANY recognition
unless you WIN. Nothing. Nada. They don’t even tell you “good try” or “better
luck next time.” How hard would THAT be?
I’d have to say it’s more devastating
and a greater heartfelt loss than winning Lead at the Olympics, because it’s The
Nobel … it’s about HUMANITY … SELFLESS HUMANITY, for crying out loud … and a
sizeable cash prize that would have gone a long ways toward buying some really cool
stuff.
Well, there you have
it. In this election-year climate of
grand self-adulation, where attacks using truth-challenged and truth-free
“facts” are readily believed by unquestioning masses, I can hold my head high
on the slopes and proudly exclaim my worthy accomplishments and deepest personal
pain with best of them. It’s the
American Way.
Gotta go now. I have to stop by the store and pick up some
gum on my way to the mountain.
Catch air, DUDES!
L. “Bode’” Haymond
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