ROLLER BLADES STRAPPED ON – SKATING WITH THE STARS 1993

This next short story, is dedicated to my brother in law Cleeeef. He reminded me about this incident, very early in my blogging career. At that time I was writing posts in a more or less chronological order, and the story was a few years away at that point. Anyway, I have waited patiently, to write it for him, until we reached the Washington DC., part of our life. OK, brother, here goes. It all took place in Rockville, MD. on the outskirts of Washington, DC. It is in the late summer of 1993 after we had been assigned to our offices in Rockville, MD.

We had found a great place to stay, about 1 block, as the crow flies from the office. It was paid for by the company. It was in a gated complex which contained a pool, exercise facilities, and secure underground parking. It was a huge apartment style home containing 3 bedrooms along with 2-1/2 baths. The location was great and as I mentioned, it was basically around the corner from the office, by car; or a short walk thru a shopping complex that was attached, both to our home and the office. We had moved here from Pennsylvania on what was considered a temporary assignment. While our company searched for a more permanent position, preferably overseas.

I was now working in our Power Division. During the course of the last dozen years with this company, I had been thru many of their different business units, such as Refinery and Chemical, Civil, Petroleum, infrastructure, Pulp and Paper, Mining, the Fire-fighting team in Kuwait, and now Power. It seemed like no one wanted to keep me. I guess it could be said, that I never advanced to the executive of any of these groups, because I never stayed long enough, in one, to move upwards. We did see a ton of travel, though and considered a life, flitting around the world, a fair trade-off against a life of office politics and kowtowing. In the long run, I think we saw ourselves as winners in the game of work life.

So the stage is set. We are in a new location and I once again, come up with another, in a long list of brilliant ideas. I think it is time for roller blades so I can teach the girls how to skate. Roller blades, you might ask? There was no ice to be found so I saw roller blading as a simple adaptation of ice skating.

Ron had not so much interest in skating, but Ange was keen to learn. She caught on immediately and was soon whizzing around the shopping centre parking lot, with me, in the evenings. She was pretty damn good! Combined with her god-given (paternal sides’) natural athletics skills, she was pretty to watch. And soon, flitting around the pavement and honing her skating technique. I on the other hand, did not find it as easy as ice skating. Not that I was a great ice skater, from what I could remember as a child.

Awkwardly, I kinda lumbered around, but after a few outings, was also getting the hang of it. I started to feel pretty cocky and was prone to show off my form to an admiring crowd (Deysi and Ron). As I got more comfortable on my blades, my reasoning diminished. I now considered myself a full on skater, ready to take on some serious roadway. So early one Saturday, I don my skates and tell Deysi and the girls that I was going to fly into work for a couple of hours. After which, I will fly back home, as quick as my roller blades would allow. With Deysi’s admonishment of, “be careful Jimbo, you know you’re not as young as you once were”, ringing in my ears, I depart.

As I stated earlier if you wanted to drive to work, then you had to go about one block down, cross over, hook a left and about another block into the office. I start out on the sidewalk and soon had my speed up to a respectable rate. The wind was whistling through my mop, and I was free. I felt the admiring stares of passers-by, envious of my obvious talent and prowess with the skates. Then disaster! I am now just about a full block from home and have worked up a righteous speed. I am approaching the intersection where I need to cross over, when suddenly a car enters the crosswalk and stops.

It was a few short meters away and realize that I needed to stop, like “right now”! At the same instance, I also realized that I had not yet got to the part, where you learn how to stop on the roller blades! Geezus, flashed thru my mind! I realized that I needed to bailout on the lawn or hit that car broadside. So I did, I fell, sprawled, flopped and otherwise made an ungraceful train wreck on the ground, sliding to a stop just short of the corner. The guy in the car, opens his window and says, “are you alright? That looked like it hurt”. There is no way in hell that I am going to show any vulnerability to anyone, or have anyone think I am at a weak moment. I pop upright and tell him, “no problem I do this all of the time”.

My wrist is hurting like hell, its pointed at a bit of a funny angle and is now throbbing. Luckily it was my right wrist and I was left-handed, both for writing and one-fingered pecking on the computer. I suffered for a couple of hours and then went home. I told Deysi that I had hurt my wrist a bit, but there was no way in hell, that I’m telling her I piled up in a crash site, halfway to work, moments after she told me to be safe. She said, “you had better go get that looked at”, but I just kinda shrugged it off and said “I’ll be ok”. I might say that this wrist, swelled up and then hurt me constantly for at least two months. It then eased to a dull ache that remains with me today, a full 27 years later.

Not once have I ever forgotten this wrist. In the middle of my golf swing, at the height of a salmon fight, or whenever it needs to move suddenly, I am sharply reminded of one moment of roller blade fame, and then the “crash and burn”. I believe now it has morphed into full fledged arthritis. It got so tender, that when ol’ D2 grabs my hand to shake it, with his big meat hooks, he can bring tears to my eyes. Deysi will, every once in a while, give me a playful little slap on the back of the hand, which will also make me feel like fainting. She thinks I’m still faking it, after all these years.