Jonah

I learned that jonah is an improper noun today. It means someone who brings misfortune to those around him. I couldn't find a word for someone who can't shut up about a good thing and karmicly jonahs themselves in the process, but that's what I seem to do on this blog. Exhibit A would be a previous post about how winter here is a joke. As I sat and watched another six inches of lily white inconvenience fall on top of an already abnormal yearly total yesterday, I realized I probably shouldn't have been trash talking in Dec. Exhibit B would be my previous assertion of Scrabbicular invincibility, about which Liz is currently drafting a blogospheric comeuppance.

Anyways, as I hiked from the mile from my orange line stop to my job over treacherous snow covered brick sidewalks for the umpteenth time, I was thinking about how awesome I am at avoiding falls. I think most north country natives have either an innate or quickly learned skill at ice walking, so I'm not saying I'm above average for a Minnesotan. But after reading several articles about the huge number of immigrants from hotter climes who end up in the ER with broken bones every winter, I think it's fair to say I'm above the worldwide average. Don't worry Chad, even MN natives are allowed one digger per year and it doesn't count if alcohol or dog walking was involved.

There are several moves one needs to master in order to become an ice ninja. The most basic is the "penguin shuffle" which requires not pushing off on the balls of your feet, keeping even pressure across the entire foot, and moving your legs and hips as a block. A key move for the walking to work crowd is the splash-free gait, which requires keeping your feet parallel to the ground so as not to fling salty slush up the back of your pants. But the most difficult and most critical move is the slip recovery. I'm not sure this one can be taught and there's probably not one foolproof technique that works in all situations, but I think the key points are:

1. Go with the slide. If you make too sudden of a move you're done.
2. Maintain a center of gravity.
3. Throw up a counterweight. Arm and non-sliding leg need to act in concert.
4. Hope you stop sliding and can get both feet back on terra fricare before balance is lost.
5. Smile sheepishly at anyone who witnessed your near miss.

I pulled a spectacular recovery a few weeks ago but unfortunately nobody was there to see it. So there you have it; I've damned myself to a painful and embarrassing meet and greet with the sidewalk. Watch for my next post titled "There's Absolutely No Way I'll Fall Ass Backwards Into A Large Personal Fortune and Live Out My Days In Blissful Leisure."