It’s a running joke here chez roscoe that I hate, simply hate adventures. I don’t like when things go unpredictably awry. I don’t punt well. Much, or most, or all of this most likely has to do with how complicated things are when you’ve got a disability. I mean, yeah, when I was in my 20s, I drove to an outdoor concert without knowing where I’d sleep that night and how I’d eat. It worked out really well. I shared a hotel room once with eight other people attending a Star Trek convention. (No really. Two on each box spring, two on each mattress, one….um in the bathtub? I’m pretty sure that was it) Hell, into my 30s I was going to outdoor music festivals not knowing that stuff but having a sleeping bag and a hatchback, figured I could sleep inn the car, worst case scenario. And it worked. But that ended. I can’t crash anywhere. I can’t end up X miles from home. I can’t travel without a reservation at a boring hotel with grab bars. No old Victorian B&Bs for me, no trekking, no hiking until I get somewhere and wing it. I’m not just in my 50s but I have issues with pain, cold, and walking. Sucks to be me.

So. Back in 1996, I attended US Figure Skating National Championships for a sold week and spent something between 8 and 12 hours a day in the arena. It was heaven for a serious skating fan. Championships involve three groups in four disciplines and all of it was interesting. Okay, um, almost every single moment. I liked watching the kids, the “novice” and “junior” skaters because it’s often not just a age-division but there can be some amazing talents in the junior ranks. There are 2 singles divisions, men and women, then there’s pairs and ice dance. So there’s lots to watch. In the case of San Jose, there was a second rink at a separate location where much of the training and warm-up and practice took place and eve that was interesting because it was a teeny rink and you could get right up there at the ice. There were some bleachers but it was not the arena. And in this instance also, the good seats were not filled except for the last day where the Big Deal event – senior women (for those who don’t know skating, think Nancy Kerrigan/Tonya Harding, without the stick) and the “gala/exhibition stuff took place - so even then you could get close to the ice.

That was then. I was walking in 1996, though not far. I could sit for hours a day. II took a cab from my motel to the arena every day and it cost, as I vaguely recall, between $5-$10 to do that. At least once I went to the practice rink with Patty a friend I’d met on-line at the skating fans mailing list and only once I took the horrid dreadful disastrous shuttle bus. While the bus was free, it was a waste of time and energy. I’d read about this sort of thing in the past – stories about Olympic competitions where spectators and athletes were left behind in cold parking lots for hours. In this case, the drivers (at least from what I learned talking to one) were often out-of-town hires, so they had no idea where to go. Maps probably were provided but they simply were not rained. They went wrong way round, took us hither when we all wanted to go thither. Feh. I did get to see famous coach John Nicks from close-up (that was me yelling from the back “Let Mr. Nicks on the bus!”)

But it was great. I, or Patty and I when she could get off work, sat close to center and no one minded. I was able to use the upscale box seat area bathrooms because the ushers saw the cane and were understanding. I remember eating okay at the arena, and having a blast. At night I’d stop at the Chinese restaurant down the street from the motel and eat very decent food. When I wasn’t meeting old friends for dinner. It was great fun. And if you know any skating history, you might understand why it stays in my head and heart because it was the year of the Rudy Galindo championship and that was one of the best days US Figure Skating ever had. Period.

Even when I had to sit in my “assigned” seat, in San Jose, I struck up a conversation with the folks in front of me. Turns out he was a reporter and he went into the special “reporter’s only” area and brought me out some stuff that I wasn’t supposed to have – like press kits. And I hadn’t even thought to ask. That’s how nice folks were. I didn’t get to meet a lot of skaters – I didn’t go hang out where they might be (yes, I thought about it but….) though I did meet one waiting for ice cream (like many athletes, she got to cheat a little once she was finished. We chatted, I told her how wonderful she looked out there, she blushed (ok maybe not) and that was it. (For those who care, her name was Kate Robinson, she and her partner came in 4th and they were beautiful out there. The next year, they came in 3rd. Probably my influence.) I’d met one skater and his coach on the plane down to California and met one skater’s parents up there in the stands Trifun Zvanovic, who later skated for his father’s country of Serbia.

I knew it was unlikely I’d ever do that again. But last weekend, Skate America was in town and after long debates, I coughed up the money which I really couldn’t justify and got tickets. It was after talking with a longtime friend Ray, with whom I’ve gone to many “Champions on Ice” performances and talking with Stu who rightly suggested that if I didn’t go, I’d be really sorry wouldn’t I.

Skate America is a very different animal. Despite the name, it’s not for American skaters alone. It’s one of 6 events held over 6 weeks that lead up to national championships for some skaters. There are country championships and some regions have events (like Europeans) then world. Then every 4 years, the Winter Olympic games. But Skate America (followed by events in Canada, China, Japan, Russia and France kicks off the skating year for most of us. It’s an opportunity to get a look at what The Usual Suspects are up to and to see new faces. Many of those faces I’ll never see again because they’re from foreign countries and American televion tends to think that no one could possibly be interested in a skater from Canada, or Romania, or Germany. We’re of course all patriotic to the core and only care how Americans do at any sport or event. (this is like the newspaper writer a few weeks ago who asked how us poor schmucky Seattlites/western Washington folks could possibly be coping when the local teams were either learning town (The Sonics are now in Oklahoma, buh-bye!) or doing so badly it was really pathetic (the Mariners.) apparently it had never occurred to these bozos that a) we have a women’s pro basketball team (that won a championship a few years back and was at least in the playoffs for a short time) and b) some of us don’t give a crap where a team is from (a moment out to say GO JAMIE MOYER! YOU GOT A WORLD SERIES RING.)

So Skate America was officially begun on Friday evening but we headed off to the arena Thursday morning to watch practice. **Cue spooky haunted music** “Little did Andi know that it wasn’t an ordinary day. She should have guessed, shouldn’t she, when, while putting on her favorite little black ankle boots, the one her partner describes as “your kicky little boots" (Carnaby Street, circa 1967?) that the long- suffering, worn old knotted up shoelace finally broke and she had to switch off, last minute, to the cute little (but not leather) black with red flowers Chinese shoes, the ones that everyone comments on and were like $8 in the U District. “ but no….we got the bus, just fine, a block from the house, transferred just fine, got to Everett in under an hour and got into the arena. Where within an hour, Andi’s feet were pretty much numb. AHA!

Duuu duuu-duuu-DUUUUUUUU!

Continued on next blog, the horror, the pathos, the kindness of strangers….