Use Your Imagination

It's not every day you're chosen as the most beautiful skier on the mountain. In fact, it's safe to say I've never won that title. But a little imagination can turn an already exceptional day into a day where the slopes sparkle with diamonds even when it's cloudy.

Upon arrival I search for the perfect parking place for my peanut-butter-and- jelly-and-potato-chip-lunch break. The SUVs and mini-vans pull in to face the lodge, but I back in to face the snow covered mountains without chairlifts and skiers. Anyone watching probably recognizes the bathroom dance while I pull out my skis, pull on my boots and pull up the ragtop.

It took me half the season to decide which pockets suit the essentials for a day on the slopes. Money goes in the pocket on the back of the inside pants. The car key's in the left front pocket of the outside pants. It has a zipper that can't be unzipped until I get back to the car. I tuck a couple of Kleenex in my sleeve (thanks Grandma) and lip stuff in the left coat pocket because my cell phone goes in and out of the right one at least 23 times a day. When everything is in place, I elegantly walk to the bathroom in my unbuckled boots and then I'm finally ready for my first run.  

Every chairlift has a little hut at the bottom and another at the top. And every little hut has a man to man the lift (there are still no women to woman the lift). This year at the beginning of the season my day was made when a lift operator came out of his booth to give me a piece of candy. If he said anything at all, I don't remember.  And I only had time for a grazie and smile before the next chair came to remind me to make my way. Fortunately, the inside coat pocket on the top left with the granola bar had room for an individually wrapped caramel so they shared the space for a few runs while I contemplated my treat. 

The only name I'd had for this chairlift guy was the one with a long ponytail and a super long beard. And I suppose he'd gotten used to me as the girl (or lady) with green, pink and orange coats but always the same grey hair, grey helmet and goggles. So why the caramel? I imagined that around Halloween the designated lift guy bought bags of individually wrapped candy so they could divide it in their huts at the beginning of the season and give it to their favorite females of the day. (For more information on a similar game I invented in 1984 click here and read Go ahead. Make my day.)

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Self-help gurus call my take on the explanation for the candy 'a positive perspective.' But have you ever heard a parent tell a child to find the positive perspective when complaining that they had nothing to do? We tell kids to use their imaginations, and unless you think you're too grown up, you should try it.

If singing Sinatra on my morning drive up the mountain, eating a thick hot chocolate with a tiny spoon at noon and driving back down as the sun sets aren't enough to completely fill my soul, imagining that I'd been selected as one of the sparkling diamonds in the snow makes my annual ski pass worth every centesimo.