SKATING PARTY

Skating Parties

When Mother Nature decided to paint her landscape from beautiful autumn reds and yellows to drab grays and the morning air took on a nipping chill, we knew Old Man Winter was fast approaching.


One of my favorite winter activities was skating.
There were several ponds in our little community that served as skating rinks. Usually the snow would begin falling in late October so the ponds would have to be cleared of snow practically every afternoon.
One of these ponds was a mile or so from home. The locals knew this pond as "The Hi-Lo". I never knew why. It was neither high nor low. It was just a pond in the corner of a field.
After school my friends and I would make the trip to the pond, laden with shovels and home made plows to clear the snow from the ice. We would work diligently for hours until we had a large enough area to play hockey.
Because darkness fell between 4:30 and 5:00 o'clock, we would have to wait until the next afternoon to play hockey. That is, if it didn't snow during the night.
Maybe that was why it was called the "Hi-Low". The "Hi" was when the job of cleaning the ice was done and the "Low" was waking up to find it had snowed during the night. Who knows?
Although clearing the snow was hard work, we spent many happy afternoons circling the pond, each of us sure the NHL was patiently waiting for our arrival.

The older boys of the village never seemed to show up to help clear the snow from the ice but had no qualms in taking over the ice when we had it cleared. Many Saturday afternoons they would drive us from the pond so they could play hockey.
On Friday and Saturday nights they would use the pond for skating parties.
There was just enough light from the nearby houses to cast a soft glow over the pond. Not enough light to play hockey, but enough to allow the older boys and girls to have skating parties.
Why anyone would want to suffer the cold to hold a girls hand while dragging her around the pond was more than my hockey soaked mind could fathom.
Then around my eleventh birthday my brain decided it would have enough room to accommodate hockey and girls.

Suddenly the thought of skating around the pond while holding a girl's soft hand in mine, held more appeal than holding a hockey stick.

There were several girls in my classroom at school that I liked, but there was one in particular whose company I enjoyed more than the others.
She was polite, pretty and very smart.
We were always in competition for highest marks.

I pondered over asking her to go skating for a week or more. Every time I tried to pop the question I became the most self-conscious coward possible.
It was the winter for Gods sake, but every time I tried to ask her out, I would break out in a sweat as if it were August.
The older boys made it look so simple. Surely they didn't agonize like this every time they asked a girl to go skating.
These thoughts, coupled with the agonies of uncertainty and the constant presents of my old friend Embarrassment, were certainly dulling the luster of anticipation.

Eventually I managed to collect enough courage to ask her if she would like to go.
I couldn't believe it. She said yes.
The only problem was I asked her on Monday, so I had to suffer through the longest week of my life until Friday evening.

Friday evening arrived with a full moon and just a little chill in the air.
Her house was located on the way to the pond so I was to meet her at her home and we would walk to the pond.
Everything went great.
We arrived at the pond to find many of our classmates enjoying the ice.
I helped her on with her skates and tightened the laces for her.
I was so caught up in the moment I failed to notice my good buddy Embarrassment standing in the shadows.

Taking her hand, I attempted to help her onto the ice, only to have my feet shoot out from under me, depositing me flat on my back in front of all our friends.
Then, as if to ensure my buddy Embarrassment received the grand entrance he always demanded, she reached down and tried to help me to my feet.
Imagine, a future NHL superstar being helped to his feet by a girl.

When the laughter died, signaling my friends had finished feasting off my humiliation, I took her hand and we skated clumsily around the pond.
As we did, I acquired a growing respect for the older guys that did this a couple times a week.
Hockey was definitely easier, but nowhere near as enjoyable.
Filled with a giddiness I couldn’t explain, I showed her my prowess on skates with jumps and twirls that were flawless.
I was a cool dude again.

As if in the blink of an eye, time devoured the evening, leaving only the walk home as solace.
We hadn't noticed the air had gotten much colder until we stopped to remove our skates. Being the perfect gentleman and still trying to impress, I offered to carry her skates.
When she handed me her skates it created a small problem. I couldn't possibly hold her hand with mine full of skates.
Not to be deprived of the joy of holding her hand all the way home, I tied her skate laces together and slung them over my shoulder. I did the same with my own, thus, leaving my hands free.
Pretty clever move, eh!

After walking for fifteen minutes or so and talking non-stop, my throat began begging for water.
Since water was out of the question at minus 20 Fahrenheit, a piece of ice seemed the logical substitute, but where was I going to get a relatively clean piece of ice?

Reaching to adjust the skates on my shoulders, I caught the glint of Lady Luck’s reflection, peering at me through a piece of ice lodged in my skate runner.
I couldn't believe my luck. The Gods were definitely directing my destiny. Could nothing go wrong this night?

Not wanting her to see me lick ice from my skate, I turned away to flick the ice from the runner with my tongue.
When my warm tongue touched the cold runner, it was like steel to a magnet.
My tongue was immediately stuck fast. Was that the Gods I heard laughing?
My buddy Embarrassment arrived on cue, only this time he had his friends Panic and Pain with him.
Panic instantly erased all thoughts of holding hands and being cool while Pain worked on starting tears down my cheeks.
I tried to explain my predicament to her, but it was hard to talk with a skate runner stuck to my tongue. Realizing it was her laughter and not the God’s did little to console my embarrassment.
I don't know which was worse, the pain or the humiliation.

I could see the lights of her house in the distance. Surely her farther, with all his adult wisdom, would be able to resolve my dilemma.
Panic strongly suggested for me to run, but I soon discovered this was not a good plan because if I ran I couldn't hold the skate from moving and this put Pain in the driver’s seat, so I had to opt for a fast walk.
To this day, to see someone speed walking makes my blood run cold.

Finally I reached her house.
I hammered on the door and an eternity later her father opened it.
I stumbled into the kitchen, tears running down my face, trying to beg for help.
Her farther sized up the situation and seemed to find great amusement with my plight. He began laughing uncontrollably.
Finally, he pulled me over to the wood stove and instructed me to stand with my face over the stove. In a minute or so the skate runner warmed enough to release its death grip on my tongue.

I tried to apologize to my skating partner, but with a tongue swollen to twice its size, it was impossible to talk intelligibly.
I mumbled my good nights and made my escape to a chorus of unbridled laughter.

I couldn't believe how awful the evening had turned out.
Embarrassment and Panic decided to call it quits for the evening, but wanting to make sure I was properly escorted, they employed the services of their pals Misery and Sorrow to accompany Pain and I for the remainder of the walk home.
To go from making beautiful memories to walking home with these characters for company brought me to the conclusion that hockey, with all its bumps, scrapes and pain was in no way as dangerous as girls.