Thursday, Mar. 24, 2005 - 3:16 P.M.

Several years ago I took my teenager rollerblading. He and I were out having a day of fun together. We went to a lunch and a movie. We went to an arcade and played silly games. We blew money on things that would make any teenage boy happy (e.g., itching powder, whoopee cushions, prostitutes, etc.). Basic, normal mother and son stuff. Our last stop for the day was rollerblading.

Rollerblading was then very popular. And, since, as a teen, many of my Friday and Saturday nights were spent at the local roller skating rink, it was quite nostalgic for me. Speeding around the rink getting bumped and pushed into walls. Re-circulated stuffy and smoky air blowing through your hair. Le Freak by Chic blaring throughout the rink. Good times, man. Good times. Hey! Good Times is another classic Chic song. Damn, I�m good! Or sad--you be the judge.

I like to think I�m a healthy person, ya know? I work out every morning. I choose the stairs over the elevator. I watch what I eat. I drink tons of water. I eat a lot of fruit and vegetables. I don�t smoke. I only drink socially. I�ve cut down on my heroin intake considerably. So, it was a bit of a shock when cruising around the rink I not only got winded but learned that, somewhere between 13 and 35, I had turned into a doddering, unsteady old lady. Breath? Gone. Balance? Buh-bye. Also, it appears a different set of skills is needed to rollerblade than to do anything else you would ever do in your daily routine. That�s what I�m going with anyhow. I refuse to be beaten by some leather and plastic. (Get your mind out of the gutter, hissandtell, I�m talking about the skates.)

The worst part, however, was the day after. Every muscle in my body ached. And, when I say �every� I mean EVERY muscle. My tongue hurt, people. My tongue! It must have been strained from my sticking it out to the side of my mouth while trying to balance. Or maybe someone rollerbladed over it while it was hanging far out of my mouth in a showing of �Please! Won�t you help me? I�m so parched and this idiot thinks she�s 12.�

My son, on the other hand was just fine. Not one ache or pain. It appears that sometimes vim and vigor are wasted on the youthful. How much energy does it take to lay about in one�s room playing PlayStation II? Meanwhile, I hurt and ached so bad, it took all of my energy and courage just to walk across the room.

I haven�t been rollerblading since. Or involved myself in any other sport that might show me I�m not as physically fit as I think I am. I prefer to go through life with blinders on. Like a horse.

A lame horse.

You Give Me Fervor - Friday, Feb. 17, 2006
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Ebert And Roeper? Watch Your Backs. - Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2005
Coffee? Tea? Map? - Monday, Nov. 07, 2005

� Purplecigar

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