"Old School" Musing: A Few of My Favorite Things

• One of my favorite Robin Cousins performances
• An exquisite John Curry piece, and another one that should not be missed by Curry to "Sunset" from Grand Canyon Suite.
• Classic and artistic Toller Cranston
• The incredible Gary Beacom (if you have never seen him, do yourself a big favor)
• Kurt Browning (with hair) doing my absolute favorite program to Singing in the Rain, and talk about moves, She's a Brick House.
• Scott Hamilton's pro "Short Program" that was a send up on real old school skating and a comic tribute to Dick Button.
• Brian Orser skating outdoors to a touching Neil Diamond song.
• A beautiful Brian Boitano program, again outdoors. (NOTE: The original was removed from YouTube for copyright reasons. Here is a wonderful program but not a great video recording of another program, this one in Sun Valley)
• I video taped this program in 1992. It is my pride and joy and I take it out whenever I want to be inspired. Paul Wylie's Olympic long program still brings tears to my eyes.

  

There are many, many more but you can search them yourselves. Of course, I have many favorites among the women, too. I'll share those in "Old School: Part Two." However, my point is this: Watch and learn from the masters. If you do not understand the history of the sport, you will not understand where you can take your talents. It doesn't matter if you are a male or female skater, it all begins and ends with the heart and soul of what skating is all about. 

• Work hard to make it look easy. 
• Sit at the cyber feet of your skating idols and watch what they do. 

Do not imitate them; find your own voice. But aspire to share your talent in the same way they have shared theirs with us. If you succeed, it will bring the magic back to our sport. 

   

I had someone comment on my last blog that her son didn't "get it" when it came to artistry and skating. That's understandable but sad. Certainly, over the past decade things have changed. But there is still nothing like "old school" skating to understand how jumps and choreography are one in the same. Being mesmerized by a skater doesn't happen when he or she does a big "trick." It is all the things in between - what is now called transition - that brings a performance from okay to amazing. 

   So, I wanted to share YouTube videos of some of my all-time favorite male skaters'  famous, as well as lesser-known programs, so you can see what I mean.  

  

A Few Choice Words on Advice

   I find myself in an interesting position these days. My blog - which I really write for myself to chronicle my thoughts - is very much like what I used to write in my diary, but now I find myself sharing it with the skating, parenting and blogging communities. In many ways I have unlocked the book and turned over the key to the blogisphere. And while I don't monitize my blog, I have collected a "following," of sorts. I am aware that you are watching, reading and listening - and responding. What I also realize is that this all comes with an incredible responsibility.

   Observing and editorializing is what I do here. I don't try to be Dear Abby or Ann Landers (they were sisters, you know). I don't do advice to the lovelorn - unless they are in the immediate family; I merely chronicle life as I see it. The problem with doing my kind of editorializing is that people now consider me an expert. Increasingly, I am asked advice on what to do, where to go; how to navigate the frozen and muddy waters of competitive skating. The challenge comes in the fact that 1) I am still finding my own way, and 2) what may be my experiences may not be the same as someone else. No two snowflakes are alike (though I suspect that no one can prove that positively); no two parenting or skating experiences are alike. That's the real truth.

   After my last blog where I said I would not be going to our local competition, I found that life got in the way and a change in work and personal schedules made it possible for me to drop in to see a young man I have been mentoring over the past months. He has just moved from Novice to Junior, and in the past two weeks has also changed coaches. Today was a struggle for him, and we talked awhile after his skate, trying to put everything into perspective. He is very talented. Like our skater, he has been quick to develop artistically but it has taken him longer to develop technically. He will be fine. Actually, he will be more than fine once he understands his gift and starts believing that it is okay to take your own developmental path, no matter what anyone says - even me. After all, no two snowflakes are alike.
   This was also the first time in more than a year I had entered the "hallowed halls" of the facility that was such an integral part of our lives for more than 10 years. Since I am sharing my "diary" with you, I will admit that this was not an easy thing for me to do. I did not waltz into the building with any sense of entitlement because I had paid a visit to Mount Olympus. I actually had to force myself to get out of the car and walk through the doors, carrying my baggage with me. While it is true that you can't go home again, sometimes you have to make a short visit, as much for your peace of mind as to exorcise your mental ghosts. What I discovered was not what I expected.
   I am an observer. I am a former English teacher, a trained PR professional, an editorial writer and occasionally a humorist. What I am not is a reporter. I call it as I see it and hope that I strike a chord or two along the way to make people think. However, I seem to have stuck enough chords to score a short skating sonata, because after I passed through the gates, checked my baggage at the door (no additional charge for the carry-on, by the way) and entered those hallowed halls, I found myself inadvertently "holding court" for some skaters and parents. I felt like a cross between Oprah and Tony Robbins instead of my usual egocentric literary feeling of being a cross between my journalistic idol, columnist and humorist Erma Bombeck, the irreverent author and chef Anthony Bourdain, and 60's comic writer Alan Sherman of "Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh" fame. Because of this blog - because of this personal diary and chronicle of my life on the edge - I was now the guru on the mountain; the purveyor of wisdom; the key to the Holy Grail of skating life as we (think) we know it. In other words, I was the perceived key to the "Truth." 
   No two snowflakes are alike. My experiences on our journey will never be exactly like yours. My observations are merely that. Fortunately or unfortunately - depending on your point of view - what  I have is a gift of words. It came genetically from my father and mother, as well as from my very talented, theatrical and more-than-occasionally dramatic grandparents. What I have been blessed with is the power of understanding and communicating experiences in a way that seems to touch people. I hope that everyone understands that when they ask my advice. I hope that they take what I say with an ocean full of salt, even when it comes from a well-seasoned skating mom. I hope they seek my advice as just that, and not as gospel truth. Because like the individuality of snowflakes, my truth is mine. Theirs may be quite a bit different, even though we all end up with a lot of stuff to shovel.  
   So, thank you for your encouragement. Thank you for your support. Thank you for taking me into your homes and into your hearts. Just understand that I am a flake - and I'm proud of that. What I am not is a well of knowledge; I'm merely a wealth of experience that I try to distribute carefully and wisely. 

   
   

Musing: Time in a Bottle

   The competition season begins in my hometown today. I am nowhere to be seen. I am not in the stands, behind the announcer's microphone, standing with a clipboard or anywhere within miles of ice or an arena. I truly miss it and I would be there if I could, but alas it was not to be this time around. 
   I've said before and I will say again, it is critical that you volunteer for your club and your skaters. That is what keeps the coffers full and the skaters on the ice. Don't underestimate the importance of getting involved. But I have to admit that when you have reached a certain point and your skater is gone, the club is no longer an integral part of your life and real life simply gets in the way, it is difficult to find the time that you once carved out to make all those things happen.
   But, don't do as I do. You have lots of years in front of you to look at what was behind you. If you have a skater and are the member of a club that is hosting a competition, do as I say: Get out there. Forget the petty fights; ignore the problems. Remember who is really important here - the skaters. This isn't about you. This is about them. This is about teaching them that being involved is more than sitting in the stands session after session during any given week. This is about the payoff. This is about showing them that no matter what - and no matter what the outcome - you are there and working; you are committed and you are supportive. 
   Save and savor this time, as much for your skater as you do for yourself. 

   If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Till Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them....

  

(A Very) Short Stop: A Few "Choice" Words on Boards..

There are many things that boards are good for: 

1. Building a house
2. Repairing a roof
3. Skiing
4. Theater
5. Dance
6. Hockey
7. Basketball

One thing they are sometimes, but not always, good for:

1. Reliable information

""Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-... That's all, folks."

Short Stop: Waiting to Exhale

   
The ISU Congress is meeting in Barcelona starting today. Grand Prix assignments will be handed out and posted soon. After last season - after Tokyo,  Spokane, Vancouver, Torino - I thought this would be a bit more "matter of fact." But in fact, starting a new season always seems to be like holding your breath, handing in your E Ticket once again, pulling down the safety bar and waiting...waiting...waiting. 

   Back in the "Good Ole' Days," we used to have some control over scheduling. There would be requisite meetings with coaches, decisions on competitions, plans made for how to get to Regionals, Sectionals and (hopefully) to Nationals. Now, our skater turns in his "dance card," sits on the sidelines and waits to be chosen. There is little to no consulting; there is only anticipation, expectation - and when things are announced - the  requisite exhale so we can make our plans. 
   Those of you who still have some modicum of control. Enjoy it. If your schedule is set for 2011, you can breathe now.

Musing - Making Faces

   Everyone I know has several "faces." There is the "Business" face. There is the "Public" face. There is the parent, sister, brother, son, friend face. So, when I look in the mirror and see that aging face staring back at me, I have to wonder who is it really. 
   It is so simple for other people to decide on the face you are wearing on a particular hour, day, week or year. Why is it that they can look at you and pass that judgement so easily when you can't do it yourself? 
   I am getting ready to face the world today. I'm just wondering what face it will be. 

Short Stop: Time to Say Goodbye I Say Hello..

   "Don't be dismayed at goodbyes.  A farewell is necessary before you can meet again.  And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends."  ~Richard Bach

I had not seen our skater since Olympics, except for two very "parent-interruptis" moments in Chicago and again in Denver. This time, it was just the two of us as the Stars on Ice tour ended in Portland.

   Having your skater (aka: your child) grow up and move away is one thing. Having him or her grow up, move away and become a public figure in the process is something quite different. 

   Now, here I was in Portland, cherishing some quiet time with my son in the bowels of the Rose Garden Arena, away from the fans and the faithful, walking the hallways, quietly talking, laughing and trying to remember 2005; trying to remember a lot of years before that while speculating on the many years ahead. We discussed goals, aspirations, dreams while remembering some bygone times with the fondness that comes from a certain distance and convenient amnesia of the actual event. 

   The next morning, as we said our goodbyes at the airport and headed yet-again in different directions - he on vacation overseas and me back to work - it struck me that saying good-bye to the past is always difficult, but saying hello to the future is empowering.  Yes, certainly it is easy to shed some tears for what was. But in the long run, one must keep moving forward because the clock relentlessly and unforgivably moves forward. Time does not stop - and neither do we. The best we can do in life is "Carpe Diem" - seize the day - and always master the possibilities. 

   So, say "Hello" to the future. It is all we have to look forward to, and it is completely and undeniably defined by the goodbyes we have said in the past. What we learned along the way - and the friends we made in the process - that's what is timeless.