Page 12

Ski with Me if You Can by Skip Carver P.I. (Professional Instructor) (aka…………. à

à

à à à à à à

à

à

à

Page 12

…. P. Howard) ■

à

(Note: Pete passes along a big “thank you” to the member who contributed their frequent flyer miles to support his Eastern Demo team training.)

t was a tough time of year to be a P.I. (Professional Instructor). It was January in New England, the wind was high, the temperature was low, and the customers were scarce. I heard from a friend at “check–in” that Florence was in town. She was a difficult lady, discerning and demanding. I had skied with her on occasion and somehow it was never just right. Florence had been to many different ski resorts and had skied all over the world with the best instructors. On snow her grace and measured movements seemed to trump the technical components of my well-intentioned advice. She was challenging to ski with, and working with her always seemed to test my skills…. I was at a local watering hole called the Pink Pony, lamenting wages, weather, and the weight of insulation in the uniform pants. The band had been playing for a few songs and as I looked about I saw Florence over by the dance floor. Perhaps tonight might be the chance to make up for some on-snow advice that was a bit off the mark, and turns that were less than the best. I walked over, and, with the casual elegance of a marketing VP hocking a condo, said, “Would you like to dance for while?” She said, “Sure, but I have to warn you, I’m a professional dancer.” I guess that explains why I always felt a bit of a spazz around her. My only comeback was to say, “Well, that’s OK, I’m a professional too, and I’m always open to some feedback on my performance.” As we danced, Florence said, “You need to lead me by a step or two. If you move abruptly, or get way ahead, I can’t keep up.” I worked on that, and then the song changed. It was rocker, with a boogie beat. Now I was having trouble keeping up. Florence said, “If you’re light on your feet, you can be nimble and quick, but if you get heavy you’ll get stuck in one spot.” Next came a slow song. By now I was getting lazy and leaned on her for support. She said, “Watch it buddy. If you lean on me I can’t move. Besides, if I wanted static cling tonight, I’d dance with my sweater.” As the tempo picked up, we spun and turned to the rhythm. Florence never missed a beat, but I was hanging on to keep up. “That does it,” she said as she broke my grasp. “I just can’t hang out with someone who hangs on,” and, in the time it takes to plant a pole, she was gone. So there I was alone again, but somehow dancing with Florence helped me understand why I didn’t feel just right on my skis. As I turned back toward the bar I felt a breeze from the doorway, and I heard a voice in the wind say, “Hey, Skip, you can ski with me tomorrow if you can, and, by the way, you can call me Flow.”

à

I

à

PSIA-E / AASI SnowPro • Summer 2007

Profile for PSIA-AASI Eastern Division

Summer 2007  

Volume 34, Number 1

Summer 2007  

Volume 34, Number 1

Advertisement