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 ordinary day (if you call driving your convertible up 1600 meters every Friday morning and skiing in the Dolomites ordinary) 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-break at noon. While the rest of the SUVs pull in and face the lodge (where they'll be lunching on a piece of pizza) I back in to face the mountains covered with fresh snow and pine trees, instead of chairlifts and skiers. If anyone's watching, they see me dance around (because I always have to go the bathroom) 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 and 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. Once my dance is over, I make my way to the bathroom and then to the hill.  

Every chairlift has one 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. I can't remember what he said; maybe nothing at all. And with the arrival of the next chair behind me, I only had time enough for a quick grazie. 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. 

To myself I'd always called this chairlift guy 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 they complained about being bored? We tell kids to use their imaginations, and unless you think you're too grown up, you should try it.

For me, if a beautiful morning drive up the mountain, a day of skiing and a sunset drive back down isn'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.