I
was working on an essay recently, and in it mentioned that I’d
never been on skis. When one of my sisters saw it, she responded
with a text…
“You’ve never skied?”
A
simple enough question. And in the world of texts, it brought
on a few quick exchanges though never a truly detailed conversation.
In the end, my sister was left simply offering up that having
lived in the northeast she was surprised to find out I had never
gone skiing.
She
probably has a good point.
While
I do know I never hit the slopes, I also recall being signed up
for at least one school ski trip. I don’t know if that’s true…
time and details swirl and blur, and attempting to recall it has
me thinking the trip was canceled… still, the end result is the
same. Never skied.
But
the reality is that winter in New England involves snow and there
are plenty of trails to explore. Saying you live in the region
but have never skied isn’t all that far from saying you’ve never
tried clam chowder.
One
funny alternative to this concept is that I’ve also never really
been in a snowball fight.
I’m
not going to enter into a debate of how I recall our childhoods…
don’t want to rouse the sisters or the parents… suffice to say
that my memories involve a quick “no throwing snowballs at your
sisters” warning from my parents each and every time I attempted
to create a perfect sphere of wintery fun.
Though
I do wonder…
I’ve
built snow forts, made snowmen, and climbed hills with sleds and
toboggans and saucers and more. (Climbed, descended, brushed offed,
climb, descend, brush, repeat.) I’ve stayed outside beyond the
legendary blue lips phase. I enjoy mini-marshmallows in my hot
cocoa.
What
types of things are regional expectations?
When
you consider beaches in Hawaii, California and Florida, the thoughts
tend to believe that everyone there has tried to surf.
Who
residing in Texas doesn’t own cowboy boots and cowboy hats? (Isn’t
mandatory to have cowboy boots for formal, dress, casual and everyday
needs? And, I’m probably missing at least four other pairs. Right?)
When
the Olympics come on, we hear about people that have experiences
from cross-country skiing to curling presented to them as expected
ways of life. Even exposure to the biathlon. And yet, I know,
not every school offers a lacrosse team (so to speak).
So,
what is it? Where is the line? Why does my sister assume that
I’ve skied?
There
are places where history, heritage, community and such come together
to create expectations and activities. An extreme example such
as hunting whales can have specific purpose and ceremony. There
are some groups that have been granted exemptions to international
laws based on subsistence-based cultural practices.
Where
you live… the community you are a part of… the people you spend
time with… they all can blend in a variety of ways. And often,
there are certain beliefs that can be found, both internal and
external of the group.
If
you had to guess about people that may have seen a tornado or
felt an earthquake… would you have a specific setting for where
it occurred? My guess is yes.
And
yet the results of any consideration can go, somewhat spectacularly,
off the expected path.
I
went to school with someone that lives in New York City. At the
time, he was twenty-years old, and other than his dorm room had
lived his entire life in the same house. He had never been to
the Statue of Liberty. Seen it, of course. Never set foot on Liberty
Island.
When
we talked about it one day, I recall being exposed to the idea
of the differences between resident and tourist, along with the
attractions of a specific location for each group. I also remember,
and still believe today, that it’s quite possible to take something
for grated (especially when you grow to expect that it will always
be there).
One
of my strongest pieces of advice for traveling involves asking
someone local where they would eat lunch. The idea simply being
that those from the area can refer you to the best in the area.
I still believe that… still put the thought to practice… and yet,
yeah, consider I’ve never skied. You should accept that those
responding to your lunch question, so to speak, may not have skied
either.
On
a shelf in my office is a stuffed Eeyore. It’s a Safari Eeyore,
bought at the Animal Kingdom in Disney World. Something you could,
to my knowledge, only get at the Animal Kingdom. I love it. Does
everyone want one? No. Does everyone have one? No. But for me,
personally, I enjoy having it there. I love the feelings it creates
and the memories that come flooding back when I spot it.
Just
because you haven’t skied doesn’t mean you don’t have a Safari
Eeyore to share. And I can’t be any clearer than that.