Day two of our Christmas vacation in Aspen
With my parents and 2 brothers when we were in our early 20’s
prepping for the slopes


Bob who was a ski instructor in Aspen, Colorado
woke Bill and I up at the crack of dawn
anxious to get the show on the road and us on the mountain.

"But bro! I am on vacation, I protested, I never requested an early morning wake up call! "

Just the day before, we had been so rushed after our turbulent flight
and harrowing ride
from the Denver airport to town
we only had enough time to drop off our luggage
and watch my baby brother do some backward and forward flips in the snow
on one ski and sometimes two

Our star had made reservations for a dinner show review
at a popular saloon immediately afterwards.

By the time we crawled into bed, Bob was the only one not completely worn out.
I knew he was eager to get us out into that fresh mountain air
and teach us a thing or two.

I dutifully dragged myself out of my nice warm bed
and began the tedious process of getting dressed for the slopes.

Neither Bill nor I had ever been on skies before
and we were about to be given our very first lesson.


You know, I have always been amazed at how glamorous
… not to mention …bone skinny…
the celebrities appear in their down filled,
fur lined ski outfits, smiling for the cameras at every possible photo op.
They all have perfectly coiffed locks blowing in the breeze,
none of them ever walk around with wet,
hat hair sticking to their head!

Perhaps their stylist armed with a blow dryer
follows closely behind, hiding behind a mound of snow
until summoned, who knows?
I digress

Celebrities never seem too cold or too warm
or ever show any sign of discomfort whatsoever.

How they manage to look so good, especially in those bulky clothes,
escapes me, I guess I will never know.

That’s another story!


Personally, I was plum tuckered out and totally pooped
simply from the ordeal of getting dressed for the occasion.

OMG I was wearing so many layers
I began to doubt my ability to walk
let alone ski.
I resembled the Pillsbury dough girl.
My scarf,
my final touch,
was knotted around my neck preventing me from seeing a single thing.

Actually
it was really to my advantage,
because if I had caught even a glimpse of my image in the mirror,
I might have gone right back to bed and hidden under the covers for the duration


Naturally Bob wasn’t even wearing a hat
and his ski jacket was thinner than some of my undershirts
it was so short, it barely covered his belt, let alone his butt!

I on the other hand,
would not even consider wearing a jacket that did not completely hide my derrière!

It took me ages to find one that I would venture to wear in public!

I managed to wattle like a 5 year old in a snow suit,
all the way to the ski rental shop
and by the time we trudged in the door
I was spent and needed to rest.

I wanted to sit by a fire and have some hot chocolate,
if I could just get that darn scarf untied in order to reach my mouth.

About two seconds after entering that overcrowded and congested place,
I was sweating to death and began shedding layers of clothing like an onion.

Forget the tiny fanny pack wrapped around my big fanny,
I should have lugged along a giant laundry basket to hold all my inner and outer wear

By the time we finally arrived at the front of a series of lines
I was already done in from holding my boots, hats gloves etc.
My little bothers acted like golden retrievers,
occasionally fetching the items I dropped.

A big burly cowboy stood behind the boot/binding counter,
the largest one in the place.
His deep voice sounded like a megaphone.

After answering a few questions from some other people who had cut in front of me
(don’t you hate that)

he hurriedly turned in my direction and literally yelled, for all to hear, “

So, young lady, how much do you weigh?”

Was it my imagination, or did every eye in the place focus in on me
as a hush grew over the noisy crowd,
waiting in anticipation for my answer?

Extremely embarrassed,
this question caught me off guard.
I could not help wondering what my size had to do with my ability to slide over the snow
and did he mean my weight with or without all my extra clothing?

Both brothers knew the number on the scale was an
“issue” with me.

Because of a recent breakup,
I had put on a couple of pounds,

and had been fighting and losing the battle of the bulge
for a few months.

Although, I had been rather proud of the way I was expertly able to hide
my girth by wearing long tops and stretch pants,

or so I thought.

It was something the family was well aware of,
but no one would dare say one word about it.

Personally, I was insulted
  felt my weight was nobody’s business.

This rude and clueless male seemed to grow very impatient
by my reluctance to release the information

a very long line was beginning to form behind me.
The crowded condition and the question made me perspire even more.

My brothers were trying to give me
“the look”
which seemed to be saying,
“come on, just answer, nobody cares!”

(do you like how I am able to read minds?)

When I thought it couldn’t get any worse,
the voice behind the counter got even louder,

“lady, I haven’t got all day, how much do you weigh?
would you rather come back later when you remember?
My other customers don’t seem to have amnesia
and they are all waiting for their gear!”

That’s when I got up very close to his face and whispered ever so softly,
not wanting anyone else to hear me,

“Just how important is it that I tell you the truth
the whole truth
and nothing but the truth?”

He gave me such a puzzled look,

I continued,
“would the number recorded on my driver’s license suffice?
(Blank stare from cowboy) “

"Just how important is this question Sir?”


The guy did not know how to keep his voice down
 he belligerently replied

“Look,
let me put it this way
if you lie, you die!”

My brothers had to turn away from me,
they were laughing so hard.

Back on my toes,
heading for his ear,
I said,
“Could I write the number down and then will you tear it up,
the minute you read it and will you keep it to yourself and not mention it out loud?”

Thank Goodness Bob ended up knowing this heartless chap
 he finally agreed.

I can’t imagine what all the impatient people behind me were thinking
but the insensitive lug began searching for something to write on and a pen.

That delay really cost me,
since he made such a big deal about finding a little piece of paper

Mr. Cowboy Boot guy really had me in a bind
thankfully, he finally tossed me a scrap of paper.

I wrote down my answer and within minutes a pair of boots
with bindings appeared

immediatley mr wonderful put the paper in his mouth, winked at me and swallowed it!

I handed Bill and Bob the pile of clothes I had been holding
and grabbed my new boots.

When I turned around, everyone in the rental shop,
gave me a round of applause and began to cheer
as I sheepishly followed my mortified brothers to the ski and pole lines.

Since no one else asked any more humiliating questions,
in no time,
we had everything we needed to begin our first lesson

Except for the fact, that I had to put my clothes back on all over again
and then attempt to maneuver myself out the door.

The Pillsbury dough gal was now wearing what felt like enormous steel fins.

I asked the boys how was I going to hold the poles and my gloves,
hat and scarf and fanny pack?

Bill and Bob gave me " the look” again
  told me that I needed to wear everything
dah
and then refused to listen about how hot or cold I was feeling.

OK then...
I did what they told me to do and clumsily and comically walked outside
into a blast of cold fresh mountain air,

and boy did that feel good.

And the rest
Is another story!

I posted a pic of how I looked after my first lesson
sound asleep in a coma like state
leaning on my father using him for a pillow