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Mike

Ball

 

 

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March 10, 2008

Spring Ski Trip, Part 1: Half the Fun is Getting There

 

“To-ho-od Ju-hu-hun-ior, pl-he-he-ase st-ho-hop th-ha-ha-hat!”

 

Todd Junior, who has been testing the soles of his new snowboard boots on the back of Dad’s car seat for the past three hundred miles, thumps his feet down to the floor mat and punches Little Suzy in the arm.

 

Little Suzie clicks the “pause” button on her iPod, yawns, stretches, then shoves Bernie the Schnauzer, who has been sleeping in the rear window shelf behind Todd Junior’s head, onto Todd Junior’s head.

 

Two hours later, once Mom has mopped all the Schnauzer pee out of Todd Junior’s hair and the AAA wrecker has pulled the family sedan out of the snow bank, the family is on the road again.

 

This year, instead of the annual Florida trip, they are headed to Mount Feverblister, for what the Ski Resort brochure describes as “The Feverblister Winter Sports Paradise Package and All-You-Can-Eat Buffet.” There they will meet up with Aunt Meg, Uncle Bob, the Twins (Bobby and Robby) and Little Pammie, who have been enjoying ski vacations at Mount Feverblister for years.

 

Mom, Dad, Todd Junior and Little Suzy have never been skiing before, so an hour before dawn that morning they pulled away from home with $7,265 worth of brand new ski and snowboard equipment strapped to the roof of the sedan. Hours later, when they stopped for lunch, Dad discovered that the big “pop” he heard on that long bridge a hundred miles back was the ski rack breaking loose and sailing into the river.

 

Just after dark, the family sedan pulls into the Mount Feverblister Ski Resort, which is also known as the East Possum Bladder Best Western. While Dad checks in and gets the room keys, Mom stands in the parking lot comparing the Ski Resort brochure with the scenery in the area, and for the first time truly appreciates the marketing power of stock photography.

 

Once Dad has carried everything that had not been strapped to the roof rack up to the room, everybody washes up and puts on fresh clothes. Then Dad hustles his hungry family down for the nightly All-You-Can-Eat Buffet Dinner that is included in their Paradise Package.

 

The only people in the dining room are Aunt Meg, Uncle Bob, and the kids, sitting at a large table. They each have a plate in front of them heaped with breaded chicken wings, macaroni with cheese and orange Jell-O.

 

“Hey there, ski bums,” shouts Uncle Bob. “Grab a plate and join us – we saved you a seat!”

 

The buffet, in addition to the breaded chicken wings, macaroni with cheese, and orange Jell-O, contains a pan of something resembling rice, and a greenish substance that may have once been broccoli, or possibly okra. Everyone sticks with the breaded chicken wings, macaroni with cheese and orange Jell-O.

 

After they’ve finished eating, Todd Junior and the Twins trade under-the-table shin kicks with their snowboarding boots. Little Suzie and Pammie compare and contrast the contents of their iPods. Mom and Aunt Meg debate how you could have fish bones in breaded chicken wings. Dad fills Uncle Bob in on the details of the trip, and explains how they seem to have lost all their equipment.

 

Uncle Bob assures Dad that they can rent all the ski or snowboarding gear they’ll need tomorrow morning at the Mountain. When Mom asks Uncle Bob where that alleged Mountain might be, Uncle Bob laughs and explains that Mount Feverblister is actually a giant sanitary landfill about a quarter of a mile up the road from the Best Western.

 

“The beauty of the whole thing,” says Uncle Bob, “is that you not only get to ski down the hill they made covering up all that garbage, why then you just zip right on down into the hole they dug doing it!”

 

An hour later, since the television in the room is broken and there is not a single bar open anywhere near East Possum Bladder, the whole family is settled down in bed, there to rest up and dream of tomorrow and the big ski adventure to come.

 

Next week: Sliding Down the Garbage.

 

Copyright © 2008, Michael Ball. Distributed exclusively by North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

 

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