Datebook: Thursday, November 23 ~ 2006
Happy Thanksgiving from Ice-dance.com & Mombo #9
Last Tuesday my daughter told me she was packing “light” for Sectionals. She was only taking one suitcase and two carry-ons—a backpack with her computer, magazines and various snacks, and a Puma bag, with her costumes, for me to carry.
“Wonderful,” I said. “Now we can actually fit in the mid-size car I rented.”
“I realize I don’t need to take all of the things I usually take,” she admitted and I basked in her new maturity that surely is due to my insightful parental guidance.
“Do you think you’ll have any room in your suitcase in case I have a few things that need to be packed at the last minute?”
“No problem, I always have a bit of space.” I answered serenely, imagining the outer zipper pocket that usually remains empty.
This is were my dream vision collapsed under the last minute reality of seven pair of shoes, three coats, a pair of skates, a MAC make-up case, and the new hot pink Chi hair straightener.
I had to remove several of my items until I was reduced to the area of a gallon size zip-lock bag with 5 days of underwear and socks, two sweaters, and a change of pants.
I considered layering clothes but was happy I decided against it when I was pulled from the baggage inspection line with the suspect Puma bag. Apparently, under x-ray, my bag looked like a diamond smuggler’s cache, and my “shifty” look (mostly of me glaring at my daughter, who in flip flops had an Emeldo Marcos array of foot apparel at her disposal upon arrival, while I had to be content in black backless Clarks even when I wore my brown pants thank-you-very- much).
I had to be subjected to the full search and “puffer” exam looking for explosives.
My daughter, of course, disappeared into the crowd leaving me to explain tiny spandex costumes with thousands of crystals.
“They’re not mine” I tried to explain.
“You didn’t pack this bag?”
“No, I mean…yes. These are my daughter’s and she is a skater and we are going to a competition.”
“Oh. Skating. Can your daughter do a triple axel?”
“No, she does ice dancing,” I replied.
This resulted in some raised eyebrows and a re-wanding of my body.
With weather delays we arrived at the destination airport Tuesday night at 11:00 to discover our rental car company had overbooked cars. We were left with the choice of a cab, or a dirty PT Cruiser with a quarter tank of gas. We took the car and ‘cruised.
Every competition has its own quirks and culture and we heard of several at the three regions.
With a limited number of skaters, those on the east coast were a pleasantly surprised to find that there were two practice groups. They were therefore taken aback when advised that only one minute of music would be played for the OD and Free Dance.
So practice went like this.
“Skater’s you have 6 minutes of warm-up.”
“Team 1 will be first and then Team 2.”
1 minute of music for each team was played—(thankfully the first minute and not just a random selection which admittedly would have made it more interesting).
“Skaters you have 24 minutes left in this practice session.”
Some tried to address the problem and suggest a logical and reasonable solution like using the remaining minutes to actually play the entire program, but these were pooh-poohed.
Coaches, skaters and parents alike were turned away and left as if they had just had an encounter with the Motor Vehicle Administration on the last day of the month, or tried to cancel a contract with a wireless phone network.
Mids skaters had to keep watch for tornados and Coast skaters, well, will be traveling back to the same state in January.
My daughter will be taking two suitcases to Spokane. On the way home her bag weighed 53 pounds and cost an additional twenty-five dollars—the only things she added were a medal and a new pair of size 2 “skinny” jeans.
She said I shouldn’t feel irked about it.
But I am a bit. It seems redundant to wear that size and still need to call them “skinny”.
Congratulations to all, for your work and hard effort. Happy Thanksgiving.
Last Tuesday my daughter told me she was packing “light” for Sectionals. She was only taking one suitcase and two carry-ons—a backpack with her computer, magazines and various snacks, and a Puma bag, with her costumes, for me to carry.“Wonderful,” I said. “Now we can actually fit in the mid-size car I rented.”
“I realize I don’t need to take all of the things I usually take,” she admitted and I basked in her new maturity that surely is due to my insightful parental guidance.
“Do you think you’ll have any room in your suitcase in case I have a few things that need to be packed at the last minute?”
“No problem, I always have a bit of space.” I answered serenely, imagining the outer zipper pocket that usually remains empty.
This is were my dream vision collapsed under the last minute reality of seven pair of shoes, three coats, a pair of skates, a MAC make-up case, and the new hot pink Chi hair straightener.
I had to remove several of my items until I was reduced to the area of a gallon size zip-lock bag with 5 days of underwear and socks, two sweaters, and a change of pants.
I considered layering clothes but was happy I decided against it when I was pulled from the baggage inspection line with the suspect Puma bag. Apparently, under x-ray, my bag looked like a diamond smuggler’s cache, and my “shifty” look (mostly of me glaring at my daughter, who in flip flops had an Emeldo Marcos array of foot apparel at her disposal upon arrival, while I had to be content in black backless Clarks even when I wore my brown pants thank-you-very- much).
I had to be subjected to the full search and “puffer” exam looking for explosives.
My daughter, of course, disappeared into the crowd leaving me to explain tiny spandex costumes with thousands of crystals.
“They’re not mine” I tried to explain.
“You didn’t pack this bag?”
“No, I mean…yes. These are my daughter’s and she is a skater and we are going to a competition.”
“Oh. Skating. Can your daughter do a triple axel?”
“No, she does ice dancing,” I replied.
This resulted in some raised eyebrows and a re-wanding of my body.
With weather delays we arrived at the destination airport Tuesday night at 11:00 to discover our rental car company had overbooked cars. We were left with the choice of a cab, or a dirty PT Cruiser with a quarter tank of gas. We took the car and ‘cruised.
Every competition has its own quirks and culture and we heard of several at the three regions.
With a limited number of skaters, those on the east coast were a pleasantly surprised to find that there were two practice groups. They were therefore taken aback when advised that only one minute of music would be played for the OD and Free Dance.
So practice went like this.
“Skater’s you have 6 minutes of warm-up.”
“Team 1 will be first and then Team 2.”
1 minute of music for each team was played—(thankfully the first minute and not just a random selection which admittedly would have made it more interesting).
“Skaters you have 24 minutes left in this practice session.”
Some tried to address the problem and suggest a logical and reasonable solution like using the remaining minutes to actually play the entire program, but these were pooh-poohed.
Coaches, skaters and parents alike were turned away and left as if they had just had an encounter with the Motor Vehicle Administration on the last day of the month, or tried to cancel a contract with a wireless phone network.
Mids skaters had to keep watch for tornados and Coast skaters, well, will be traveling back to the same state in January.
My daughter will be taking two suitcases to Spokane. On the way home her bag weighed 53 pounds and cost an additional twenty-five dollars—the only things she added were a medal and a new pair of size 2 “skinny” jeans.
She said I shouldn’t feel irked about it.
But I am a bit. It seems redundant to wear that size and still need to call them “skinny”.
Congratulations to all, for your work and hard effort. Happy Thanksgiving.
Mombo #9
posted by ice-dance.com @ 7:37 AM
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