Funny Guy Friday... Relaxing Ski Getaway...

     We just got back from a "relaxing" ski vacation. Three days at Wisp Resort, at my sister's place near Deep Creek Lake. About five years ago, we decided that skiing was going to be our family thing. Cheryl and I both had skied a few times but not in about twenty years. We figured that this would be an activity that we could all learn and do together. Since then we have been to Mt. Batchelor in Oregon, Sugarbush in Vermont, and Shawnee Mountain in the Poconos. But, for the most part, we spend our time skiing at Wisp in western Maryland. Did I mention that my sister has a place at Wisp?
     Although we go to different places, the story is always the same---our relaxing vacation is anything but relaxing for me.
     First of all, after we bought her her own skis and boots, Grace decided that it is not going to be our family thing because she hates the cold, the falling, the lifts, the discomfort of the boots, etc. If we can figure out how to ski in June, July and August, she is in. Until then she wants out. Despite her hatred for skiing, we have, in the past, forced her to go along because this is what families do. She would humor us with a run or two, but then she would hit the lodge with a laptop and some hot cocoa.
     This Christmas, Grace finally got a cell phone, and two seasons of the show Psych. She assured us that she would be very happy to stay back at the place and text and watch the same show for 48 hours. We reluctantly agreed. So, it was off to the mountain with Cheryl and the boys.
     If you have never skied before, it is a great workout. Not the skiing... that is easy. No. The workout occurs before we ever make it out of the parking lot. Each skier, and by each skier, I mean me, needs to get his/her heat packs for their feet and hands. Each skier, and by each skier, I mean me, needs to make sure they have their gloves, ski masks, helmets and goggles.
     After each is fully clothed, the boot experience begins. Ski boots are not comfortable and the bindings need to be tight. Very rarely does a skier, and by skier, I mean me, get the bindings right on the first try. They are always too tight, too loose, too uncomfortable. After several tries, we, and by we, I mean me, get them comfortable enough to start the trip from the parking lot to the mountain. We, and by we, I mean me, carries the skis and the poles to the mountain. By the time we get started, I am usually so hot that I want to ski naked. My family convinces me that this is not a good idea.
     Once on the mountain, we need to get everyone where they need to be. This time, Noah took a two hour lesson so we had to find his instructor. We did, and off they went. After two hours, this genius of a ski instructor advised us of two important facts. First, Noah likes cookies, and two, he does not know how how to turn very well so we should avoid runs that have other people. Maybe we could go back in June, July and August when we can be sure that nobody else besides Grace will be skiing on the mountain. Thanks, Mr. Instructor but we already know both of those little nuggets of information. Perhaps fewer cookies and more turning practice would have been a better allocation of time.  
     Matthew and Cheryl are a perfect pair as they are comparable in skill. Of course, Matthew is more of a daredevil and will always win the race. His goal is to get to the bottom while  Cheryl likes to weave back and forth while taking in all the sights and sounds. They both make it to the same place, but in a different fashion. I think that this is a microcosm of their lives, as Matthew will say what he needs to say in as few words as possible, and Cheryl... well let's just say that her stories tend to ramble back and forth telling you all the sights and sounds.
     Actually, as it turned out, Noah did great as he weaved in and out of trouble. He even sang and danced his way down the mountain, at one point declaring that he was skiing with his eyes closed.
     At the end of the day, the process reverses itself and we, and by we, I mean me, lug all of the stuff back to the car. As I marched back to the car, exhausted, I thought to myself that a Psych marathon may not be such a bad idea next time we head back to Wisp for a relaxing vacation.