|Pam, master trapezer.|
I was thinking lately while quasi watching football about these professional players getting mega bucks. I wonder if it ever occurs to anyone that some player out there might just hate his job, I mean, really hate his job. We, the public, assume that the million dollar roster bonuses make it all worthwhile and surely wouldn't every guy want to don the shiny jersey, shoulder pads and claim to be a Colt or a bucking something? So what if you're really good at something that you REALLY don't like? When I was in high school I didn't take art, honestly I knew I was good at it but I didn't really enjoy art making until I got to college and even then it's really only been in the past few years that I can't live without it.
Which brings me to the opposite issue-liking something that you really stink at. Well, kind of sort of liking something.....my bookclub read Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann and we thought to take flying trapeze lessons. One of my friends in the group had done it before and she had loved it. I didn't think twice about signing up, they have you on a "leash" right? I did start to worry though about my apparent golfer's elbows (L and R) and whether upper body strength would be necessary (yes, yes, yes it is). I haven't done any strength training in my upper body other than picking up kids for five years or more. And that folks, does not count, if you're wondering. And so I warily climbed the 23 foot ladder that shook while another book club friend was doing her thing (and quite well, I might add). I edged my way onto the 2 foot by 4 foot platform all while corsetted very tightly by my safety belt like they were trying to squeeze the scare right out of me. I bent knees, grabbed the heavier than you think bar, leaned way too far over the edge while being anchored by my instructor, hepped and jumped and then proceeded to hold on for dear life.
There was no greatest of ease.
The flying through the air probably was fun if I hadn't been cripled by the fact that I was supposed to somehow get my legs over the bar and then fall backward with legs hooked and hands reaching toward the net ...someone did NOT spend enough time on the monkey bars.
On Sunday, I was the kid that would not get picked for the kickball team that day.
So my husband says to me, "You're not really going to do that again are you?" Hmmm.....with a little upper body training and some hanging off the neighborhood monkey bars (yes, I am going to do that), I may just give it a go again. Well, maybe for a million dollar roster bonus, yes.
The attraction of the virtuoso for the public is very like that of the circus for the crowd.
There is always the hope that something dangerous will happen. ~Claude Debussy