By Philip Peterson II
Special to the Turnagain Times
It always seems like a good idea at the time: one of your buddies decides they want to learn to ski/ride and they are hoping that you’ll teach them. For me it usually happens during the ski swap season, when I’m all fired up but can’t actually go skiing. It is a kind and noble thing to spread a little skiing know-how, so I commit. A few months go by and I pretty much forget about the whole thing. Then the clouds role in, the snow begins to pile up, and I’m getting psyched for tomorrow’s powder day…when the phone rings. I explain about powder days and tell them that I’ll do it tomorrow, but it keeps snowing. After days and perhaps weeks of putting it off I come to the obvious conclusion that I don’t like to teach people how to ski. It is a trial of one’s patience, and I am not a patient man. Pretty soon I’m dodging my buddy, screening his/her calls, and spreading rumors that I’ve left town. My skiing survival instincts have taken over; “No friends on a powder day” has become “no friends that can’t ski.”
The “teach me to ski” dilemma really becomes explosive in relationships. I think we can all agree there is nothing sexier than a skier, and a mate that can keep up is a glorious thing. However, there is no faster way to poison a relationship than to try to teach your partner to ski, especially when it’s a good day for skiing (which is everyday). I figure we have about a three month window to safely give the person you’re dating a ski lesson. This window is the “honeymoon” portion of your relationship. This is when you have an infinite amount of patience and understanding, and physical attraction is at its zenith. The best case scenario is to go before you’ve headed down the path of possible procreation. After the honeymoon period you’re inviting disaster. Somehow things go from teaching how to wedge-turn to a diatribe on how you lack patience, don’t listen, and choose not to be understanding. The thoughtful but unsuccessful gift of a ski lesson has become symbolic of all your shortcomings in the relationship. Good skiers aren’t necessarily good teachers, and in our defense, good friends, dates, and lovers are not synonymous with good students.
I was at the Sitzmark the other night (the source of much of my inspiration) talking about this age old dilemma with a handful of ski instructors from the Alyeska Mountain Learning Center. Over a pint, I learned that the PSIA (professional ski instructors of America) have adopted a new credo, “Friends don’t let friends teach friends.” It is simple, brilliant, and rings of truth. These people know how to teach the sport and they are paid to have the patience that we lack. Of course there is the fee, but come on, half of us would gladly throw down if it meant not having to stand mid-way down Chair Three repeating the same meager words of encouragement, while two-thousand feet above us our ski buddies are hooting and hollering in the powder.
At the risk of sounding like a blatant advertisement, a lesson from the Alyeska Resort Mountain Learning Center does seem to be the silver bullet. We can show that we care without actually being there. It puts dinner and a movie to shame, flowers die in a couple of days, and few of us can afford that diamond tennis bracelet. We can keep our friends and help them achieve the level of athleticism we require in a ski-partner. Rather than kill our relationships, we can elevate them and give our mates a platform from which to better appreciate our hard earned skills. The choice to put a loved one in a lesson speaks of longevity, dependability, thoughtfulness, good taste, and immense sex appeal. These attributes may even be enough for them to overlook your petite income and lack of prospects.
To wrap it up I’ll leave you with a little advice from Girdwood resident and director of the Alyeska Mountain Learning Center, Garth Mcphie, “The price of a lesson costs a lot less than a divorce attorney, and if you’re not married a lesson is a good way to keep your partner around… at least for one more season.”
In Memory:
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Grandal “Randy” Miller died of natural causes at his home in Eagle River, AK on the evening of Dec. 30, 2007. Randy was 76 years old. He was born in Turtle Creek W.Va. of parents Frank H and Thelma Miller. Mr. Miller came to Alaska with the Air Force in 1952, met and married Annette “Birdie” Clark (“his one and only”) in Hope, AK, March 6, 1953. |
Once again I am reminded of what a wonderful community I live in.
Not only because of its natural setting or that we are somewhat isolated from the hustle of Los Anchorage, but because of the warm hearts and kindness of our residents.
I recently crashed and burned on the ice near the airport and due to the hasty response of one, Imka, and her pink cell phone, I was rescued. My thanks go out to Dario Martinez for handling my dogs, to the Girdwood Volunteer Fire Department and ambulance crew, and especially to Kerry and Chuck Dorius at the Girdwood Clinic for giving up their Saturday afternoon to splint my broken leg and get me back home.
To my friends and neighbors who have provided dog walking, grocery shopping, doctor transport, and help around the house, I am indeed indebted. I’d especially like to thank Dana, Cindy, Carol H., Jonnie, Marie Martin, Bonnie, Don, the Demains, and the Baristas at Girdwood Coffee Company for their care and for keeping up my spirits while I am forced to be a spectator to the great snow conditions we now have. I’m fortunate that this is only a temporary condition and hope if any similar fate befalls my friends, I will be able to reciprocate.
Carol Jo Sanner
Girdwood