March 16: Treading water on a day off:
When I die (as I know I will), and I’m called to make my apologia before my maker (as I believe I will), my greatest crimes won’t be the felonies (although I’m really sorry about that guy I killed when I robbed that bank in Kansas in the ‘80s), but the misdemeanors. The little slights that I’ve laid off on my wife, the overbearing way I’ve been with the kids, my inability to hold my tongue with family members who, even thought they were wrong, didn’t deserve the harshness of my opprobrium. And like all dads (and probably all parents, but I don’t deign to speak for mothers anywhere, saddled with the Y chromosome as I am) I truly believe that each decision I make I make with the best interests of my kids in mind, but I know that I’m often uninformed and out of touch with what’s right for “the children.” Because of that, I’m truly confident and truly dubious of my plans for Ellen tomorrow.
It’s pretty late Tuesday night, and I’m just back from dinner at the Merkls’ condo. Chris beautifully grilled some monster steaks, and coupled them with fantastic wines (I’d have expected no less from him, though). Gina is staying with Katherine Merkl for the night (like it’s a big sleepover; our condos – including the Juneks’ – are about 30 yards apart, on the same floor even), but Ellen, Mary, and Anne Marie are all in bed, fast asleep. Today was a day off for us, so no early alarms to get ready for ski school and the like. We drove to Vail to wander around the village, play in the snow, and have a relatively early lunch. I had to be back to work most of the afternoon, making calls and keeping fires extinguished (interestingly, I have a handful of clients that always catch me on vacation: Rosemaria Levinsky at Hendrick Medical Center in the winter, Bill Hyer with St. Joseph in the summer), and AM and Mary went up to the Beaver Creek mountain to get everyone signed up for skiing tomorrow. We’re going to put Ellen back into the adaptive ski program, but we had to get Mary signed back into the baby ski school. Gina’s set to go (I should point out that Gina has done fabulously in ski school, advancing a grade; I’m afraid Gina gets short shrift in all of this – this is one of the misdemeanors I’ll be seeking forgiveness for – but I’m planning on skiing with her on our last day, and I’ll give a long post about that).
AM will ski with Ellen in the morning, and maybe I’ll ski with her in the afternoon. Like I said before, Ellen originally said she wouldn’t ski at all. By the end of my sales pitch, she said she’d ski 4 of the 5 days we’re here. She skied the first day, but was hurt and couldn’t ski the second day. Several times today, I asked her if she’d ski tomorrow or the next day. I’d ask if she’d ski the next 2 days, and she’d say, “no days.” I’d say one day, and she’d say OK. I’d say 2 days, and she’d say, no, one day. But I’d keep bugging her: over the lunch table in Vail, I’d hold up 2 fingers, and she’d shake her head. I’d hold up one finger, and she’d nod and hold up one finger back to me. You never know what she’s thinking or doing, or where she’s going when she starts a conversation, but underneath it all I can’t help but think I’m starting to understand her, and that’s damn scary and unbelievably exciting.
So, today we pretty much hung out and went to Vail. It’s very pretty over there, and the village has a real European feel to it (without all that secularism and graft you’d expect from European things). Lunch at the Red Lion, which I recommend (I feel compelled to put in a good word for any merchant who will happily put up with a motley group like us). I’d also like to put in a plug in for Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, just because it’s my favorite skiing beer.
[Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got the local news (Denver, that is) on, and they’re running a commercial for John Elway’s auto dealerships, where the tag line uses the “Ghostbusters” song, but instead of “Ghost Busters” they sing “John Elway”; that was followed by an ad for Olshan’s done by Nolan Ryan, but instead of “cable lock” he’s talking about “water lock” to keep water out of your basement.]
So, not much happened today, but tomorrow might be interesting. Ellen will ski (St. Patrick will be with her); she may chafe at it, but she will do it. I think she might still ski Thursday as well, but we’ll see.
Obviously, I’ll let you know how it all turns out.
Top: the Merkls (our chef/somellier for the evening and family)
bottom: the Drummonds, sans Mary
When I die (as I know I will), and I’m called to make my apologia before my maker (as I believe I will), my greatest crimes won’t be the felonies (although I’m really sorry about that guy I killed when I robbed that bank in Kansas in the ‘80s), but the misdemeanors. The little slights that I’ve laid off on my wife, the overbearing way I’ve been with the kids, my inability to hold my tongue with family members who, even thought they were wrong, didn’t deserve the harshness of my opprobrium. And like all dads (and probably all parents, but I don’t deign to speak for mothers anywhere, saddled with the Y chromosome as I am) I truly believe that each decision I make I make with the best interests of my kids in mind, but I know that I’m often uninformed and out of touch with what’s right for “the children.” Because of that, I’m truly confident and truly dubious of my plans for Ellen tomorrow.
It’s pretty late Tuesday night, and I’m just back from dinner at the Merkls’ condo. Chris beautifully grilled some monster steaks, and coupled them with fantastic wines (I’d have expected no less from him, though). Gina is staying with Katherine Merkl for the night (like it’s a big sleepover; our condos – including the Juneks’ – are about 30 yards apart, on the same floor even), but Ellen, Mary, and Anne Marie are all in bed, fast asleep. Today was a day off for us, so no early alarms to get ready for ski school and the like. We drove to Vail to wander around the village, play in the snow, and have a relatively early lunch. I had to be back to work most of the afternoon, making calls and keeping fires extinguished (interestingly, I have a handful of clients that always catch me on vacation: Rosemaria Levinsky at Hendrick Medical Center in the winter, Bill Hyer with St. Joseph in the summer), and AM and Mary went up to the Beaver Creek mountain to get everyone signed up for skiing tomorrow. We’re going to put Ellen back into the adaptive ski program, but we had to get Mary signed back into the baby ski school. Gina’s set to go (I should point out that Gina has done fabulously in ski school, advancing a grade; I’m afraid Gina gets short shrift in all of this – this is one of the misdemeanors I’ll be seeking forgiveness for – but I’m planning on skiing with her on our last day, and I’ll give a long post about that).
AM will ski with Ellen in the morning, and maybe I’ll ski with her in the afternoon. Like I said before, Ellen originally said she wouldn’t ski at all. By the end of my sales pitch, she said she’d ski 4 of the 5 days we’re here. She skied the first day, but was hurt and couldn’t ski the second day. Several times today, I asked her if she’d ski tomorrow or the next day. I’d ask if she’d ski the next 2 days, and she’d say, “no days.” I’d say one day, and she’d say OK. I’d say 2 days, and she’d say, no, one day. But I’d keep bugging her: over the lunch table in Vail, I’d hold up 2 fingers, and she’d shake her head. I’d hold up one finger, and she’d nod and hold up one finger back to me. You never know what she’s thinking or doing, or where she’s going when she starts a conversation, but underneath it all I can’t help but think I’m starting to understand her, and that’s damn scary and unbelievably exciting.
So, today we pretty much hung out and went to Vail. It’s very pretty over there, and the village has a real European feel to it (without all that secularism and graft you’d expect from European things). Lunch at the Red Lion, which I recommend (I feel compelled to put in a good word for any merchant who will happily put up with a motley group like us). I’d also like to put in a plug in for Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, just because it’s my favorite skiing beer.
[Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got the local news (Denver, that is) on, and they’re running a commercial for John Elway’s auto dealerships, where the tag line uses the “Ghostbusters” song, but instead of “Ghost Busters” they sing “John Elway”; that was followed by an ad for Olshan’s done by Nolan Ryan, but instead of “cable lock” he’s talking about “water lock” to keep water out of your basement.]
So, not much happened today, but tomorrow might be interesting. Ellen will ski (St. Patrick will be with her); she may chafe at it, but she will do it. I think she might still ski Thursday as well, but we’ll see.
Obviously, I’ll let you know how it all turns out.
Top: the Merkls (our chef/somellier for the evening and family)
bottom: the Drummonds, sans Mary
posted by Jeff at
7:59 PM
