Answer 116 - Right after I learn to River Dance

We're at Whistler (British Columbia) and Adventure Boy is skiing.
 

He tried hard to get me skiing, and then was crestfallen when notified that all of the bunny slopes were closed for the season.

'Gosh darn it,' I offered.

'Man.. I wanted you to try it!  It's great!'

'Yeah, I know.. next time, eh?'

Yes, I know I should learn to ski, right?

I'm sure I'd like it.  Sort of.  In an embracing the bourgeois with Gore-tex gloves kinda way. 
 

I liked water-skiing, but that's different - because you're at a 180 degree angle, which is considerably different than, say, a 70 degree angle.  Also, water skiing costs only having a friend with a boat and maybe a 6-pack of beer.  Skiing costs a mortgage payment and chapped lips.  And while there is a possibility that you can, say, hit a dock or another boat or something as you're buzzing across the surface of a lake, chances are slim.

In skiing, however, hitting trees is common.  Broken legs are expected.


I tell myself I'm a musician and therefore can't risk breaking my hands.

Yeah.  That's right.  Can't risk my hands.

Might learn to play the violin coming up here, and then I'd be out of luck.

We went cross-country skiing in Northern Wisconsin last year.  That was fun.  Until the hill. And the curve at the bottom of the hill.  And the tree that I ran into.  Granted, the whole hill was maybe 10 feet long, but that's not the point.  The point is, I was on skis, there was a hill and then there was a tree.

I saw my life flash before my eyes.
Actually, I didn't.  I just saw the tree.

But that was enough.  I determined that I take risks all the time.  I don't need to be speeding down a hill at 50 miles an hour, screaming like a tornado siren and knocking over white people in expensive winter-wear.


Nope.  I'll take hot chocolate and brandy and maybe a pair of those ridiculous fluffy boots.