Buffalo Gal

Any guy can retire from a hot-shot career and become a golf course marshall, but my cousin Craig wants to drive the Zamboni.
(Which, lets make very clear, is a regisitered trademark of the Zamboni family, the inventor of the ice surface machine in 1949 and not a generic term for any old piece of monstrous ice smoothing machinery).
Any child can drive a golf cart. But the Zamboni is a highly specialized machine that reconditions ice leaving a smooth surface in its lumbering wake. It works by cleaning up the ice shavings and laying down a layer of hot water. The water melts the upper ice surfaces which instantly refreeze to a glassy sheen.
This is industrial poetry folks. The driver is an artist with a 200 by 85 foot canvas.
You didn't think you could just freeze 15,000 gallons of water and get a playing surface, did you?
This is why the world needs guys like cousin Craig.
His muse may well be his son Garrett, an excellent junior hockey player. After years of sitting in the cold bleachers freezing the neither regions, the soft seat of the Zamboni starts looking pretty good.
The Zamboni driver generally has the rink and the spotlight to themselves - like Peggy Fleming or Nancy Kerrigan, without the need for sequins or all those years of expensive lessons.
Many are called, few are chosen. The elite of Zamboni drivers is a small, select group. Zamboni drivers everywhere are in awe of the Detroit Red Wings Al Sobotka who actually had an 800 pound artifical octopus named for him.
But real Zamboni drivers don't do it for the glory. It's a quest.
As Craig prepares to retire from the Secret Service and come home to Buffalo, we've all got our eyes open for those elusive Zamboni openings.
I found a "Help Wanted" sign posted in a rink last weekend and took it down to mail to Craig - ensuring both the opportunity to keep hope alive for Craig and lessen the opportunity for someone else to apply for his job before he gets here.
He was understandably touched by the gesture and emailed me immediately after opening his mail.
"Dreams really do come true if you aim low enough," he said.
Didn't I tell ya? The guy is a poet.

Copyright 2007 Judi Griggs

Buffalo Gal Judi Griggs I'm a communications professional, writer, cynic, mother, wife and royal pain. The order depends on the day. I returned to my hometown in November 2004 after a couple of decades of heat and hurricanes. I can polish pristine copy, but not here. This is my morning exercise -- 20-minute takes without a net or spellcheck. It's easier than sit ups for me. No guarantee what it will be for you. Clicking on the subscribe link will send you an email notice when each new entry is posted.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (1) Share on Facebook		2007-03-23 7:16 AM Driving the ZAMBONI Any guy can retire from a hot-shot career and become a golf course marshall, but my cousin Craig wants to drive the Zamboni. (Which, lets make very clear, is a regisitered trademark of the Zamboni family, the inventor of the ice surface machine in 1949 and not a generic term for any old piece of monstrous ice smoothing machinery). Any child can drive a golf cart. But the Zamboni is a highly specialized machine that reconditions ice leaving a smooth surface in its lumbering wake. It works by cleaning up the ice shavings and laying down a layer of hot water. The water melts the upper ice surfaces which instantly refreeze to a glassy sheen. This is industrial poetry folks. The driver is an artist with a 200 by 85 foot canvas. You didn't think you could just freeze 15,000 gallons of water and get a playing surface, did you? This is why the world needs guys like cousin Craig. His muse may well be his son Garrett, an excellent junior hockey player. After years of sitting in the cold bleachers freezing the neither regions, the soft seat of the Zamboni starts looking pretty good. The Zamboni driver generally has the rink and the spotlight to themselves - like Peggy Fleming or Nancy Kerrigan, without the need for sequins or all those years of expensive lessons. Many are called, few are chosen. The elite of Zamboni drivers is a small, select group. Zamboni drivers everywhere are in awe of the Detroit Red Wings Al Sobotka who actually had an 800 pound artifical octopus named for him. But real Zamboni drivers don't do it for the glory. It's a quest. As Craig prepares to retire from the Secret Service and come home to Buffalo, we've all got our eyes open for those elusive Zamboni openings. I found a "Help Wanted" sign posted in a rink last weekend and took it down to mail to Craig - ensuring both the opportunity to keep hope alive for Craig and lessen the opportunity for someone else to apply for his job before he gets here. He was understandably touched by the gesture and emailed me immediately after opening his mail. "Dreams really do come true if you aim low enough," he said. Didn't I tell ya? The guy is a poet. Copyright 2007 Judi Griggs Read/Post Comments (1) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top