CHICKENS QUARTERED, CAPTAIN CANUCK FLAMED, TENDONS SNAPPED, SHADOWS SUNSHINED

I chose to be a Barista for the night. I’ve never served in this capacity before, but I’m always willing to try something different. And the night was different. One of the local Swiss Chalets donated 250 quarter chicken meals, complete with cranberry sauce and a little Lindor chocolate house that served as dessert. Ironically, for all of our guests that night, this would be the only house that they would know of this Christmas season. Another special treat was having live music during the dinner hour, two ladies singing Christmas carols ala karaoke style to their track player. Two petite ladies, it turns out, who were their own roadies and Front of House engineers! I helped them tear down afterwards and they managed to fit their entire set up (2 200W JBL’s with stands, 2 near-field monitors, a 16 track mixer, a track player, a snake, a couple of music stands and a D’addario stool) into a Ford Focus! I’ve done some crazy sound gear packing into my little Acura before, but seeing how it all fit so perfectly into this smaller car just blew me away.

“Tim, I need to speak to you for a moment”. The seriousness on my manager’s face told me that this would be a private conversation. Unfortunately, the main board room in our group’s area was already occupied, so we found ourselves wandering to the space near the elevators, apparently the only available private spot on our entire floor at that moment. I close my eyes as he reaches into his pocket for something. I feel my heart drop as I envision a pink slip, even though I know I’ve been producing good work; it is a common fear that I suspect most workers have. Instead, he pulls out 2 tickets to the Flames vs. Canucks game. “Could you use these?”
Not having been to the Saddledome before, I had no idea where these seats were situated. I should have suspected that they were good considering the cost of each ticket could buy me a pair of high end running shoes. THEY WERE 10 ROWS BEHIND THE FLAMES BENCH! From this vantage point, the rink looks smaller, or maybe it’s because the hockey players look that much bigger! From where I was sitting, I KNEW that I wouldn’t have had to shout too loud and the player I was directing my heckling at would hear me. Not that I did any heckling, but just knowing… (evil sneer while rubbing my hands together!)

How seriously hurt can one get from playing dodge ball? Aside from the bruises that typically come from taking a rocket-propelled ball off the arm or the chest, there is the occasional scrape from diving after catchable balls. Well, after one of our games, I notice that one of my teammates is sitting on the sidelines, the rest of my team congregating around him. When some of the heads that were obstructing my view moved, I could see that he was holding his hand. Others were trying to help him. HELP HIM UNBEND HIS MIDDLE FINGER WHICH WAS LOCKED AT HIS LAST KNUCKLE AT AN AWKWARD 90 DEGREE ANGLE! He left for the hospital right away, partly because he was in pain, and partly he knew the sight of this was starting to make people sick. It turns out that he snapped a tendon that was attached to his finger.

.....
Awake from slumber, six months have passed.
Since the face of a mountain, I rode down last.
Muscles burning, resisting the ride,
But stop I cannot, for hurt would be my pride.

Gentle breezes slap my face, my contacts dry,
With each edge I carve, leaving snow spray to fly.
Catching our breaths on the chairlift flight,
Telling a joke or just drinking in the sight.

Yet the mountain, she welcomes me,
Her beauty not contrived, but so naturally.
I’m here not to conquer, but to submit,
For she alone determines if I live or die, I must admit.

And so, begins another season of riding…