Datebook: Monday, March 10th ~ 2008

So, odd things happen when worlds collide.

This, of course, means the skating world and the “other” world.

My daughter was on vacation last week in California. This was the first time she has been on a plane in five years that did not require her to pack her skates and have her carry-on consist of four competition dresses that are always scrutinized at customs as if we are potential diamond smugglers.

Them: “What are these costumes used for again?”

Me: “She is an ice dancer, she wears these for competitions.”

Them: “It just seems odd…there is not much fabric…and the ice is so very cold.

Why do you need all these doo-dads—there are more of them than
fabric?”

Me: “It just helps accentuate the dance…they’re just crystals really…
merely ornamental.”

Them: “And yet you hold them so tightly...as if they are worth thousands
of dollars.”

So my daughter got to travel very light this trip; no skates and no mom, just a VISA--platinum edition. By Tuesday, I was beginning to realize how all of those people must feel who get postcards from their traveling garden gnome—I was getting phone calls about all the adventures of my little plastic pledge card.

“Mom, guess where I am?”

“You’re sitting at the beach watching big waves?”

“No! I’m sitting in a restaurant in the Beverly Hills Hotel.”

"That’s nice,” I reply as I sip my can of Campbell’s Creamy Tomato Soup To Go.

“No, it’s awesome. I’m just killing time until my 5:00 appointment at LA Ink. They have a two hundred dollar minimum there, does that sound right?”

She asks me this not because I am a tattoo expert but because she is aware that her perception of costs has been skewed or warped a bit, like a DVD that has been left in the sun on the dashboard, because of skating.

In her skating world it is normal to pay a few thousand dollars for a dress she might only wear four or five times—so does it not make sense to buy jeans that ring up at 250.00 when you can wear them forever.

In her skating world it is normal to pay 1200.00 for a pair of boots and blades that might hold up for six to eight months—so why is it not practical to buy a pair of Christian Louboutin pumps and Tory Burch sandals that will last several seasons.

In her skating world it is normal to pay some coaches two dollars a minute for their time (even when the first 10 minutes of a lesson is just warming up—which means literally I handing over a twenty dollar bill to have them say “Go stroke.”) so is it not reasonable that a tattoo artist can charge even more for their artistic needle carving.

I hesitate before answering her.

I know she is only getting a small, miniscule piece of art that is symbolic and very special to her. It probably would not take more than fifteen minutes to complete—the only other option is to allow them to fill up the minimum price with vines, or flowers, or angel wings—do I dare think she would get a little token “mom” engraved on the top of her foot?

I shake my head and bring myself back to reality.

“It’s okay sweetheart. It’s like when you have a lesson and you aren’t feeling great that day. You have to pay for the lesson if you cancel anyway so maybe you get a little bit out of it even if you’re not feeling prime.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

I smile because, unfortunately, for many of us, it does.

My daughter is continuing with her plans for the week “…and tomorrow we’re going to Laguna Beach and on Thursday we’re going back to Rodeo Drive.”

I sit my soup can down on the counter so I can savor the creamy smoothness later, the highlight of my day, and realize even if I never get to see her adventures via her Facebook photos, I’ll still have memories-- courtesy of my Chase credit card receipts.

Mombo