European Vacation: Not Good at Skiing.

Going Missing for Awhile

When I was in seventh grade, I blew my knee out. I don’t know the derivation of the phrase to blow one’s knee out, but that’s not important. It was spring time and the winter before, I began to ski. I wasn’t very good but I lived close to a place called Christmas Mountain that offered cheap lift tickets on Wednesday nights, so I picked up the hobby.

I went down the hills at CM a few times that season and thought that maybe I could take this sport up for life in the same way that I’ve been playing golf and tennis since I was about the same age. It would give me something to do when I retired. When my knee out, my skiing career came to an abrupt, swollen, painful end. When I blew my other knee out five years later, my skiing career really, seriously, ended…

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