Teaching a 4-year-old to Ski

On Sunday of this past weekend, Devon and I took Devon's Nephew, Cameron, on his first ski trip. Being a relatively good skier myself, and recalling that when I was 6 or 7 or 8 (or however old) I picked up skiing pretty quickly - with my black skin-tight pants with hot pink shin pads, I figured that after maybe a half day, Cameron would be able to get down the bunny hill. Things did not go as planned.

The night before heading out, I called a friend who is a ski instructor (Darren Levitt, who's father has seen Aimee Welsh almost naked) to ask for some tips on how to teach a 4-year old to ski. He gave me a couple of ideas, but stressed most of all two things: the day would be about familiarizing Cameron with ski equipment, and that the goal really is to show Cameron a good time on the mountain.

We got to blue-hills ski mountain on Sunday of President's day weekend. On top of this, Groupon, apparently, offered a deal for a reduced price rental and lift ticket package over this weekend. This was mistake number one -- crowds.

Lines actually moved pretty quickly and after about $180 bucks (rental equipment and lift tickets for Me, Devon, and Cameron) and 30-45 minutes, we were ready to hit the slopes. First victory of the day, Cameron loved ski boots. He had no complaints that his feet hurt, no complaints about cold feet, and loved walking in the boots. Considering how well it went with the ski boots I figured maybe this wouldn't be so tough after all.

The success with the ski boots was quickly negated by the crowds at the mountain. The Bunny hill was packed like Geppetto's (Union College bar, you'll recall it was very crowded) on a Saturday Night. There was no room to do the little exercises that Darren suggested. Darren suggested that Cameron begin with one ski: he should try to turn around in a circle in the direction of the inside edge of the ski he clicked into -- apparently this uses the muscle required for ski turning. Cameron got his ski on with no problem. Devon and I decided to try Simon Says to eventually get him to spin. Cameron was not interested. Darren also suggested that, with one ski on, Cameron should use the ski like a scooter, and to begin to feel what it is like to slide. Devon and I decided to try "red-light, green-light", which lasted for less 15 seconds. Cameron was not interested in our games. He was interested in 1) looking around at everyone else, 2) putting both of his skis on, and 3) hitting ice chunks with the single ski pole we rented. Of these things, he was by far the most interested in #3.

Since Cameron was not interested in the lesson ideas, and seemed to be interested in trying to ski (when we finally got the ski pole from him), Devon and I gave up and decided to just try to teach him to ski. We hiked over to a part of a beginner slope - way off to the side - that was pretty empty and, after taking a break and making snow angels, eating skittles, and hitting things with the ski pole, tried to teach him to ski.

I'll spare you most the details, but apart from being able to click into his bindings, it didn't' work. If we tried to hold him up, he'd stop trying to stand and would just let his legs dangle. If we sort of let him go, he tried to move his skis as if he was walking (which, I guess, is natural for someone who's never done this) and then would immediately fall. Then we tried to have him lean on a ski pole, which Devon and I held, parallel to the ground, at around his waist height while standing next to him. He just kept sliding underneath it. He couldn't even stand, but would end in that awkward position that only kids can get into where your back is laying on the tails of your skis.

We took another break, and sat and watched other people ski, and then ate more skittles. After a little while, Cameron agreed to try skiing again but we had identical results. Eventually, Cameron said he wanted to go home. This was after about 45 minutes on the mountain (and $180) in. I asked him to try one more time, he agreed, but it just wasn't happening. He never cried, he never whined, but he also never really got it. After giving it one more shot, Cameron lay on the tails of his skis and looked done. So we stopped. We returned our gear, threw out our never-used lift tickets, and went to get lunch.

Cameron was in great spirits at lunch. I think he was just happy to be off the mountain. He ate almost an entire short stack of chocolate chip pancakes, a ton of french fries, and a giant glass of chocolate milk. Then Devon and I brought him back to the house and read him a book called Marvin the Farting Dog - he loved it, and insisted we read it to him 4 times consecutively. He also laid giant farts while we read him the book about a farting dog. Then he watched this show called Calliou until his mom came.

I mention all of this for a couple of reasons:
1) I learned a lot of practical lessons about teaching very young kids to ski: don't buy a lift ticket on your first day, don't go on a crowded holiday weekend; ski school might be a better invention than chap-stick on a string.
2) I learned a lot of lessons about 4-year-olds: the shortness of their attention span, their inability to grasp the concept of "center of gravity"
3) Hanging out with Cameron exhausted Devon and I...

In the end though, apparently, Cameron said he wanted to try skiing again. I guess he also fell asleep hard at like 7:00pm and slept through the entire night. So, even though no skiing took place, I think the day was a success.

The New Yorker on Larsson

Check out a recent article in The New Yorker about the Millenium Trilogy. 

http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2011/01/10/110110crat_atlarge_acocella

It's ostensibly about why the trilogy is popular, but I don't think the article is quite so specific; there's a bunch of interesting discussion of Larsson's background, the editing and production of the novels (in Swedish and translated) and the movies.  When the author does "review" the novels, he claims the novels (or, at least, Dragon Tattoo), which were revised through editing and translation, "should have been revised more."  He calls them "staggeringly boring," violative of "logic and consistency" and "banal."  And, "the dialogue could not be worse."

For some reason, each of these complaints is exactly why I liked the novels.  Am I just tired of the sublime?