Observations of a Misfit: I Walk, Therefore I Skate

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February 07, 2008

I Walk, Therefore I Skate - Redux

The first time I went ice-skating I was four years old, wore double-runner white figure skates, and wobbled and slipped on a frozen pond, its texture similar to the surface of the moon. My parents, both superb skaters, knew what they were doing. By putting me on slow, high friction ice dotted with clumps of tall weeds and the occasional stone, they ensured I would develop my skating feet, work the muscle groups a little harder, and avoid falling as often. To introduce a novice skater to the slick, unforgiving finish of an indoor ice rink is akin to pushing a non-swimmer in the deep end of the pool.

On the west side of Cleveland during that era, virtually everyone I knew ice-skated. By age five or six most of us had graduated to standard figure skates and longed for the day when we would receive, either from hand-me-downs or new (gasp), a pair of hockey skates with their supple, saddle leather boots and razor sharp blades. For some unexplained regional prejudice, white figure skates were solely acceptable on girls who were training in figure skating, and were otherwise considered uncouth. Those poor girls who wore them were ridiculed or shunned, and sometimes rudely showered with a cloud of ice from those of us who could raise a wave of it with a “hockey stop.”

Figure skating in general was not very popular at the time, which explains why, although one was fitted for ice skates shortly after booties, there were no champion figure skaters from this area. Hockey was the preferred sport. Most of the regional high schools supported a team, and some of you may recall that Cleveland had an NHL team, the Barons for a few years that has recently resurrected as an AHL team. Since girls were not allowed to play organized hockey, some of us took up speed skating instead. But, getting to meets was extremely inconvenient to most parents with large families, so we had to be content with just knowing how to skate really, really fast and compete in spontaneous private events like drag racing on the crowded rink during public sessions.

The ice rink of our childhood was outdoors with a few hazardous spots in gaps between the wooden corral walls and the ice. Subjected to northern Ohio winter elements, the ice got a little rough rather quickly, which served to make us stronger skaters. Pop music of the time (some of the best skating music ever) was piped from tinny loudspeakers you could hear from 200 yards away as you approached or left the rink. We sang along, skated in rhythm, coupled up, watched for friends to arrive, and occasionally thawed out on wooden benches inside the spartan locker area where the floor was covered with large, rubber tiles that squeaked against your skates. The concession stand was limited to soda, watery hot cocoa and popcorn, but nobody went to the rink to eat. Most of us went to skate…and to meet boys.

Between the months of November and March, the skating rink was the place to find romance. It was better than a sock hop or school function because skating alone was perfectly acceptable, and if you were a competent skater you’d attract a partner during the “couples only” skates. Many relationships blossomed under the glow of multicolored outdoor lights, amid the crackle of the Association’s Never my Love, while holding gloved hands cris-crossed in the traditional style. The litmus test of any new relationship formed in school was observing the courting ritual on the ice rink. If the prospect was faithful and didn’t skate with any other girls, there was a future. If the prospect didn’t skate, that made for a tenuous long distance relationship, since most of us spent 100 days a year at the rink, often staying for both afternoon sessions on Saturdays and Sundays.

Then one year in the early 70s, between spring and autumn, the city razed the beloved outdoor rink, like the Velveteen Rabbit with its warped surface, shabby edges and mounds of packed snow left by the Zambonis that remained long into April, and replaced it with a sparkling new indoor rink where we could skate without hats or coats on fast, wet ice that challenged even the veteran skaters. At first it was a little like a demolition derby until we all adjusted to the glassy surface and warmer temperatures.

Continued...

Posted by lorelei on February 7, 2008 10:07 PM | Permalink

Comments

This is a cracker of a story, Loretta. Growing up in Southern Africa the only skating rink we had was an indoor one.

You have brought back some wonderful memories from my youth. The boys, the accidents and the trips to the hospital. All so romantic at the time.

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head and Whole Lotta Love, come to mind.

Posted by: Mgt | February 8, 2008 05:35 AM

"Louie Louie," here.

Posted by: vero | February 8, 2008 02:38 PM

This old captain remembers skating on the pond and river in the Forties in Northern Maine and we didn't have to worry about wet ice then. It was colder that a witch's tit. They used to saw up the ice and send the blocks by train to the big cities for refrigeration purposes. Ice out in early May or late April used to be a big event.

Posted by: Captain Joe | February 8, 2008 08:02 PM

I really do like this entry Loretta. Harking back to the youth of my daughters growing up in NY and playing icehockey suited up like the hazmats from outer space.

The first ice rink in Texas was installed in the la-dee-dah Neiman-Markups Galleria shopping center in the 70's when I lived in Houston for 9 months before moving to NY. Of course it was indoors and nobody in Houston knew how to iceskate. It was very entertaining to watch! Va. was 2. She was bjorn in 1970... the tacky decade. Somehow we did survive being exposed to all that polyester.

Posted by: moi | February 10, 2008 09:37 PM

I am not a skater but all my kids and grands skate.
Looks like fun!

OT
I have finished reading the latest on Scott Peterson. I would dearly love to strangle the author w/ by bare hands!

Posted by: Anonymous | February 11, 2008 01:40 PM

I did that on my blog, and got spammed by a troll who had surely taken lessons from "our" Samantha. It wasn't Sammy, though, unless she has moved to a different state.

I had to take it down.

Posted by: vero | February 11, 2008 06:10 PM

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120241915915951669.html?mod=opinion_main_commentaries

OK, I’m not a big fan of Peggy Noonan’s, but likening Hillary to Rasputin is funny. Catty but funny.

I have volunteered to work for Obama’s campaign in Ohio and will also work for him in the general election WHEN he gets the nomination.

I’ll blog all about it, of course.

Posted by: loretta | February 12, 2008 09:46 AM

I rather liken her to a witch, myself. Her 30 years of experience with arkancide of her friends and associates who turned against her and Bill. What is it now, 46 suspicious deaths of those friends and associates?

Posted by: Captain Joe | February 12, 2008 10:59 AM

Oh, you woman of eternal energy! Obama as my boy too. Rock ON! If he can take Ohio, maybe Texas won't be such a longshot.
Rasputin indeed... with a machiavellian twist or two.
She makes me want to wash my ears out.

Posted by: moi | February 12, 2008 02:51 PM

Furthermore the voice of that yelling svengalian raspewkton is getting on muh nerbs as bad as dubyah's and I have to mute her. Still waiting for more skating.

Posted by: moi | February 12, 2008 09:20 PM

Obama made a great speech in Madison Wisconsin.

He is saying the right things.

Posted by: vero | February 12, 2008 10:08 PM

I will only state that my jaundiced and cynical political eye had readjusted to a peek at the possibility of a breath of fresh air for our nation. I think the comparison to JFK is not valid. He had his own family political machine gorn awn from rum-runners and slave-traders. He was an icon. Obama is his own man, making his own mark for the benefit of all of us as citizens of this erstwhile country that has been washed down the rabbit hole and continues to be so as dubah's last gasp will be more and more damaging things that he can do before next January.
think people. Obama is not saying what we want to hear, he is saying what we have yearned so long for and NEED to hear as a nation. All you skeptics out there. . .dotz take another listen. I actually know authenticity when I hear it. Merde alors, thatz how old I am. I was dazzled as a teenager by the experience I had with exposure to the high and the mighty and the WH and sewfork. After I married and actually had to work on Capital Hill, I learned that my experiences previously had been pipe-dreams. The only authentic employers I had were dems. the reps were furchips. I didn't think that after having Bush Fatique that I would ever have Clinton Fatigue. Well, I am here to tell you, I already have it. Raxputational svennigal has soured my ear, as I only have one. I have her on permanent mute.
Those Clintons had their chance and they are both lying liars who lie with no compunction, no guilt and no responsibility. Think about it. Who was in charge of the out-sourcing-show. Global economy has made us a third rate nation economical-ee. thatz awl foaks. ober und outten schlipper for now.

Posted by: moi | February 12, 2008 10:36 PM

Barry wants to put extra taxes on US citizens to fund overseas programs..
.we will see elation in the Muslim world as this Christian-light/ Muslim rakes in more votes......in this world, 95% of all wars, battles, terrorist acts, etc are by MUSLIM extremist, one of who is Barry's own cousin, who was the leader of the MUSLIM faction in Kenya recently where thousands died..

someone please ask Barry why he doesn't hold his hand over his heart for the pledge of allegiance and someone please ask him if he is elected, will he swear on a bible?...

"The American people deserve what they want and they are going to get it good and hard"....

Sort of glad my WW2 dad is gone...this country is turning in ways that make his sacrifices seem silly...

Posted by: lee | February 13, 2008 01:28 AM

A Song from my youth called the Animal Fair.

Characters:
Hillary-Dillary = the monk
The Elephant = the obvious

Here are the lyrics. I am sure you remember the tune.

I went to the animal fair
All the birds and the beasts were there
The big baboon by the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair.
The monkey she got drunk and fell on the elephant's trunk.
The elephant sneezed and fell on his knees
And what became of the monk,
The monk, the monk, the monk,
The monk, the monk, the monk?

Well this is my prediction for hillary-dillary-docked.

Posted by: moi | February 13, 2008 08:56 AM

What's the big deal about the Bible, Lee? You don't have to be a Christian to be a decent human being, you know.

If the last 2 elections are a reflection of the Christian vote, then I rest my case.

Posted by: Mgt | February 13, 2008 11:05 AM

Obomber will drive a stake thru the hearts of the Klintoons.

Posted by: Captain Joe | February 14, 2008 09:51 AM

"If the last 2 elections are a reflection of the Christian vote, then I rest my case."

Well said, Mgt!

Great entry, Loretta.

Posted by: Nadine | February 14, 2008 02:46 PM

Not all christians are represented by the few policitcally inclined fools. Just like not all christians are defined by the televangelist who con people. Some of us are good, decent, honest people who beleive in God and live our lives as well as we can. We dont sit in judgement but do have beliefs. It is not my place to judge anyone, that is for the Creator to do someday.

Posted by: Theresa | February 14, 2008 02:58 PM

zzzz

I don't know why religion has to enter into the equation at all.

It's interesting that so-called Christians don't mind the blurring (or eradication, some would argue) of the separation between Church and State in this country, because so far the religion that has been promoted is theirs.

But, what if it weren't? Oh my. Lions and Tigers and Bears.

That's why there's a separation - so that no religion, no matter how mainstream or radical, can become the state religion.

Similarly, when the then Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan (and it's all about the OIL), we armed the Taliban, created 'al qaeda' and sent all sorts of weapons and money to defeat them, all along condemning them.

Then we do the same thing in Iraq and call it a war on terror. Puhleeze.

I am LITERALLY counting the days until Dubya and his THUGS are out of office.

I just pray to Jesus, Buddah, Mohammad, Phillip Morris, Jim Morrison and Gumby that we can mend the wounds and restore our dignity.

Amen, sistah!

Posted by: loretta | February 14, 2008 04:40 PM

Lee, all that stuff about Obama and the hand on the heart is C-R-A-P.

Please check it at Snopes dot com.

It was the anthem, not the pledge, it happened once and it was an oversight.

There's no law saying you have to cover your heart during the anthem.

I usually cover my ears. Not many can sing that song well.

Posted by: vero | February 14, 2008 08:17 PM

Came across your website and blathering about fond wintertime memories near Cleveland by happenstance and was reminded bitterly of how I lost my right hand when it became entangled in a sled tow near Punderson State Park in Ohio during my childhood. Please be mindful of this when posting childhood memories. Remember, there is always someone out there who has been disabled, disfigured or even killed when enjoying seemingly safe and normal chilhood activities. Be thankful you didn't end up fingerless or brain damaged from a head smack to the ice. Like me, it may have taken you twice as long to type something. Remember your disabled bretheren and how a seemingly innocuos posting can result in a night of tears for someone out there in cyberspace.
Peace

Posted by: One handed bandit | February 15, 2008 02:34 AM

Suppose you just HAD to share that?

Posted by: Mgt | February 15, 2008 04:23 AM

Hmmm. I smell a fraud.

As if.

Off to New York! Everyone have a great weekend.

Posted by: loretta | February 15, 2008 07:39 AM

You, too!

Posted by: vero | February 15, 2008 09:30 AM

Looking forward to your return, Loretta.

Wishing you good weather and loads of fun.

Posted by: Mgt | February 15, 2008 09:52 AM