ON THE SLOPES IN IRONWOOD

As faithful reader(s) know, I'm not much for balance. Many of my golf problems are a result of improper weight shift or slight imbalance in my takeaway. Skiing, skating on ice, water, snow, or concrete are out of the question. Even when I stretch my aching calves nowadays, I have to lean or touch something for support.

So riding a ski lift, an 18-story elevator, walking an additional 6 stories to the top of the ski slope at Copper Run and looking down at what the skiers see (sans snow) really made me appreciate anyone who would jump from 150 meters. The view was spectacular. The thought of jumping was so alien to me that I couldn't process a cadre of thoughts about it.

When we got to the elevator after our beautiful ski lift ride, we gave our tickets to a young lady who took us up the 18 stories. She was saddled with an additional task of scraping paint from the elevator walls. Being the helpful sort of guy I am, I picked up the scraper and peeled some paint for her. We arrived safely and got out to climb some more while she went back down, presumably scraping as she went.

When we got back on the elevator, she asked for our tickets. I gave her the torn stubs. "Not those," she replied. "Well, that's what you gave me back," I responded. She still looked puzzled.

"We're on top, heading down," added bro-in-law Dave.

"Remember? I helped you scrape."

I'm still not sure she accessed it all. But I began scraping again and was joined by my three relatives as we rode silently down the elevator.

Maybe in order to get that job you had to have fallen off the ski run. Kinda like that guy on ABC's Wide World of Sports intro who fell off the jump sideways.