It’s still quiet in the bustling lodge. Most the skiers and rowdy snowboarders are off enjoying the morning runs and working up an appetite for the mediocre burgers and extravagantly priced pizza and fries.
The smell of the precooked burgers seems to circle around the edges of the great wooden edifice before finally settling I imagine in the impressive rafters high above my head.
I’m trying to resist the urge to put my gloves back on. It makes typing difficult and I’m taking quite a bit of pride in my somewhat macho chic image distinguishing me from the valley girl teens and preteens whining on their cell phones and to their school mates about mostly the distrust and angst they hold for the rest of the world, their jobs, schools, parents, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends. They seem to trust truly no one that is not themselves.
God I remember that paranoid, must impress at all costs anxious miserable period of my life. A period that was far prolonged by a hodgepodge of possible complications to my natural development, hardly worth mentioning at this point, because they don’t tell you all that much about who I am now.
There are a few others like me. Trying to act like we are too good for skiing. Typing away frantically on their laptops, heads buried in books or paperwork. But I’m comfortable in this group. Almost….I may be the only one watching CNN on my Ipod.
I think the people watching is the best bit about it for me. I’m most fascinated by the lonely souls who never seem to look from their books or get a single visit from their ski prone friends or family all day.
The mustached man with glasses trying desperately to get comfortable in the rustic pine seat and his whole body focused on the Nora Roberts book in his hands. I’ve never met a man who read Nora Roberts.
Across the table from him a figure in a red ski jacket is sprawled upper body across the table sound asleep. The mustached man never glances his way, so I guess them to be strangers.
Next to me is more of a kindred spirit. A gentleman in his mid forties, slight middle eastern or Indian accent, and a happy disposition. He was as excited as me to find a computer plug in, but now his phone won’t get a signal as a modem and I feel bad for giving him false hope.
He looks around like me. Notices things. Takes it all in, and at the same time seems content with who he is. No need to be wearing $200 snow pants just to sit around the lodge or impress a soul. He has been kind enough to watch my admittedly large cache of items while I’ve taken restroom breaks and grabbed coffee or protein drinks.
More to follow……