"It Can Be Rough Out There"
Thursday, February 2nd, 2012
Hello folks, I greet you from the road. I'm in Houston checking on the ATS
Baby Beau Czars, and let me just say that I am loving it. But, of course, I am
happy to stop and visit with friends. So, have a seat, and let’s chat…~smile~
One of the interesting new products revealed at the recent Consumer
Electronics Show in Las Vegas was a motorized unicycle. That’s one wheel
and a motor. Retailing at $1800, this wave of the future was advertised as
being perfect for people with a good sense of balance. Not to be confused
with folks having good sense.
One wheel and a motor— that’s the sort of dangerous thinking that must’ve
jumped on my Papa that fine day many years ago on Bull Run Road when he up
and decided to make us girls some stilts. This was during my Long Legged
Young’un stage. If memory serves, those stilts were either seventy-four
or seventy-five feet tall. I can’t be exact. Why Papa would set me loose
on those things when I was having a hard enough time controlling the stilts
attached to my own torso is beyond me.
Those stilts were scary, but admitting that you were scared to try ‘em
wasn’t an option. My sisters and I figured out the best operating principle
in record time: what goes in motion best stay in motion. Not that forward
progress was a safe venture, but starting and stopping was almost suicidal.
I remember trying to maneuver close enough to a tree branch to leap and cling
to it, with the intent of letting those evil stilts fall where they may.
Being the storytelling drama queen that I’ve always been, I envisioned this
scene to look like the heroine of our beloved Saturday night westerns, being
rescued from the back of a run-away stallion by a good-hearted cowboy. I’m
sure it looked more like the Road Runner slamming into the side of the canyon
and sliding down the rocky wall.
After all these years, Papa still can’t explain why he thought it was a good
idea to give us girls extra opportunities to maim ourselves when we were
pretty good at creating our own life threatening circumstances, but it was
those kinds of experiences that toughened us up long before the world could
take a shot at it. Thanks, Papa. I think.
Hugs,
Shellie
Thursday, February 2nd, 2012
Hello folks, I greet you from the road. I'm in Houston checking on the ATS
Baby Beau Czars, and let me just say that I am loving it. But, of course, I am
happy to stop and visit with friends. So, have a seat, and let’s chat…~smile~
One of the interesting new products revealed at the recent Consumer
Electronics Show in Las Vegas was a motorized unicycle. That’s one wheel
and a motor. Retailing at $1800, this wave of the future was advertised as
being perfect for people with a good sense of balance. Not to be confused
with folks having good sense.
One wheel and a motor— that’s the sort of dangerous thinking that must’ve
jumped on my Papa that fine day many years ago on Bull Run Road when he up
and decided to make us girls some stilts. This was during my Long Legged
Young’un stage. If memory serves, those stilts were either seventy-four
or seventy-five feet tall. I can’t be exact. Why Papa would set me loose
on those things when I was having a hard enough time controlling the stilts
attached to my own torso is beyond me.
Those stilts were scary, but admitting that you were scared to try ‘em
wasn’t an option. My sisters and I figured out the best operating principle
in record time: what goes in motion best stay in motion. Not that forward
progress was a safe venture, but starting and stopping was almost suicidal.
I remember trying to maneuver close enough to a tree branch to leap and cling
to it, with the intent of letting those evil stilts fall where they may.
Being the storytelling drama queen that I’ve always been, I envisioned this
scene to look like the heroine of our beloved Saturday night westerns, being
rescued from the back of a run-away stallion by a good-hearted cowboy. I’m
sure it looked more like the Road Runner slamming into the side of the canyon
and sliding down the rocky wall.
After all these years, Papa still can’t explain why he thought it was a good
idea to give us girls extra opportunities to maim ourselves when we were
pretty good at creating our own life threatening circumstances, but it was
those kinds of experiences that toughened us up long before the world could
take a shot at it. Thanks, Papa. I think.
Hugs,
Shellie
