This column was the idea of a friend. “Be yourself. Write what goes through your mind. Your readers will appreciate your advice if they have a feeling for what makes your brain tick,” he told me once. I am a good skier. I have to be -- my wife is Swiss. She does not ski. She glides on the snow.
She is as natural on the snow as a Swiss should be. I learned to ski on the mountains east of Rome, about 2-3 hours from the city. After meeting my future wife, I started to go skiing also in summer, on the glaciers in the Alps. The instructors were members of the Italian national team. It was a treat.
In Ohio, I found little or no challenges. So, I became a ski patroller. My children are excellent skiers, enough to become ski instructors. Now my daughter is trying to teach my grandchildren about the exciting world of skiing. They are four and six years old. They are taking lessons and have a good sense of the sport. We decided to go skiing in New York state for two days, all five of us.
A publisher and managing editor of a magazine once told me: grandchildren are your ties to eternity. I could not fully grasp the meaning of it. When we were going down the slopes, they were following me closely, as I told them to do. They were making turns where I told them to make them. It was so thrilling to see them so serious, trying to negotiate bumps and rough spots. Yet, they were always there, behind me, perfectly executing the series of moves that would make them slow down and change direction.
As we were going down the hills, I realized the meaning of continuity. A concept I did not fully understand until I saw those two little, playful boys skiing behind me.
(This Observations appeared in the 2/9/04 issue of The Peter Dag Portfolio).
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