several kilometres later
Although I am generally against the school of parenting that requires people’s children to be tied up in leagues and lessons and extra-curricular activity during every waking moment (and the minivan purchase that goes along with it), I do wish that my folks had provided me some formal instruction in certain pursuits, like skating and swimming (and music – man, I would have made such a good rock star).
I decided the best use of today’s sun and air was to stroll the Rideau Canal, and did so from the mall to the Bank Street bridge. And I envied everyone whizzing by on skates while I walked, missing out on a perfectly fun thing to do in the wintertime.
At age seven I was dropped into a small-town elementary school in southern Quebec, where teachers were free to randomly lead all of us kids down the street to the hockey rink for a couple periods of skating. These were not skating classes, mind, but excuses to let us burn off energy instead of teaching us something.
I very clearly recall a sense of impending doom as I was first the only kid in class to not own ice skates, and second to be the only one who couldn’t do anything with the skates which were eventually procured for me.
My friends Jon and Peter were sympathetic for about two minutes before roaring off to join the others in lapping me dozens of times while I clung to the boards, making it all the way around the rink – once – in the hour or so we spent on that first field trip. Over the next couple years I managed to learn how to at least move around a little bit on the ice and keep myself from falling. Rudimentary skills, nothing graceful.
Next winter I will purchase skates and learn to use them again. Don’t let me forget I said it.
At least I had the tunes going. A pleasant mix of C’mon, Metric, Sarah and the Hip made me feel pretty Canadian, even if the footwear didn’t quite perfect the experience.