Notes From A Walkman Junkie: Sit Down Before You Fall Down
I was having lunch with my long time pal, Mugs yesterday and reminiscing about some of our past ventures together over the last twenty (minus the time during the Stepford Wife/Body Snatchers phase of my life) years. It was apparent at one point during the discussion that the majority of these shared experiences and tales tended to often involve certain elements: Snow, ice (really all forms of water), falling, injury, sleeping arrangements, weird snacks, cars, animals (rarely, but sometimes), and humiliation.
Mugs and I hung out together nearly every weekend during our high school years and she would often crash over at my place. I remember one particular evening in which we had returned to my house after a less than favorable (I nearly drowned during a fun game of “I’m going to inexplicably hold your head under water for an indefinite amount of time” and was told that I looked like Taylor Dane by a mildly retarded guy) double date. We were each quite exhausted and retired to my room for some much needed sleep.
I have never been much of a multiple pillow person so I generally just had my one regular-sized pillow and one small decorative one. Normally when Mugs would stay over I would give her the larger pillow and take the smaller one for myself, but on this night I somehow ended up with the bigger pillow. It is no secret that I have a rather small head and therefore, by comparison, other people’s heads tend to be larger than mine. I had often ribbed Mugs about her large (well, larger than mine anyway) head. Once Mugs realized that she was resting her head on the unusually tiny pillow, she turned to me in the dark and said, “Hey, I want the big pillow.” I paused for a moment and then dramatically replied, “THAT IS THE BIG PILLOW.”
Over the years our friendship, as well as our adventures, continued to blossom and expand. During our early college years we took a ski trip together with some friends. This was a bit of a bold move on our parts as neither of us had ever been skiing before (in fact, the extent of our winter sports experience involved us cramming ourselves into a small recycling bin we were using as a make-shift sled then promptly tipping over, becoming stuck, having a laughing fit and peeing our pants.) We started off on the bunny slopes together, and after a while Mugs decided to go try a more challenging slope while I remained and did a few more bunny runs (I was dealing with a toe spasm apparently and unfortunately directly related to my ski boots.)
After many novice hill (toe spasmy) runs, I finally decided to give a more advanced slope a go. Once I reached the top I spotted Mugs slightly ahead of me using the “snow plow” technique briefly shown to us earlier as a controlled, slow way to safely navigate the downward path. I, on the other hand, went with the far less recommended technique of “go that way really fast; if something gets in your way, turn.” The turning part proved to be trickier than I thought and I plowed right into Mugs, leaving her skis up, face down in the snow as I continued to whiz down the hill, frantically yelling, “help me, help me, help me” until finally coming to a halt somewhere mid parking lot. In my heightened state of panic, I had forgotten the easiest way to stop while skiing which is simply to sit down.
I am attaching “We Have Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters because I foresee many more (humiliating, character altering, clothing soiling, injury inducing) excursions to be shared with my dear friend, Mugs.