Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Places for your stash?

This weekend, Mrs. 270 and I took the kids to Seven Springs for snow tubing and skiing, well, ski lessons because none of us know how to ski.  It was opening weekend, and the place was pretty empty on Friday, so we had the snow tubing lanes almost all to ourselves.  Overall, the boys had fun.  I 'm not sure what they enjoyed more, the snow tubing or the endless supply of cereal and fruit at the breakfast buffet.  One could get the impression that we don't feed them at home.

We had a couple of crashes on the snow tubing slope and a few falls in the beginners' ski area.  Mrs. 270 suffered the worst damage with a dislocated thumb.  Thanks to the tumor, I had a few leftover Percocet in my bag, so she didn't have to wait for the emergency room doc to write a prescription.  One fortunate thing about being at a rural Pennsylvania ski resort on opening weekend is that the emergency room in nearby Somerset wasn't crowded.  Heck, this ER was, at best, one-twentieth the size of the Shady Grove ER but there were only one or two patients ahead of her.  She left the ER with her entire forearm in a splint.  It was quite upsetting for her.  Not the pain or the awkwardness of wearing the splint, but the fact that the color of the Ace bandage didn't go with any of her outfits.

Back to the snow part. When we arrived at Seven Springs, Mrs. 270 and I realized that our outerwear would not keep us sufficiently warm and dry (the kids were properly attired).  So we headed to the ski shop.  This isn't usually a good idea because only the desperate buy stuff at the resort shops.  I tried on some skier pants, but ended up buying a pair of snowboarder pants (on sale of course).  In addition to being baggier than the skier pants, the snowboarder pants have lots of pockets, while the skier pants have none.  Even snowboarder gloves have zippered compartments.  "What," I wondered "do snowboarders carry with them on the slopes that skiers don't?"  Then I remembered Ross Rebagliati, the Canadian snowboarder who tested positive for marijuana at the 1998 Winter Olympics.  He won his event and gave a new meaning to the term "Pot of Gold."


  1. Somerset Hospital ER! Yikes! Been there, done that. 1988, kidney stone the size of a snowball. Thought I was going to die. I ended up puking in the lobby trash can from all of the morphine the doc gave me. Other than all of that, it was a pleasant visit.

    Mrs. Doc and I believe it always snows in Somerset, regardless of the season. We're up there a couple times a year on the way to Pittsburgh. Glad to hear Team I-270 had such a good time (dislocated thumb notwithstanding...)

    Of course, being in the snow on top of a mountain makes me think of that great scene in "Better Off Dead."

  2. That's probably the first time anyone ever typed "Thanks to the tumor..."


  3. Glad to hear you were all game to make the effort. Sorry about mishap. It all sounded so pleasant until that part, which kind of stuck out like a . . . . never mind.

  4. My "code" to post that last weak effort was "pun behem" no lie. Must be some sort of 270 code chant for it to rain puns or something. . . .

  5. Pun Be Him. Sort of like Toys R Us.

  6. Ha. I have some skate shoes that have stash pockets in the tongues. Seems like a gross place to stash anything you might want to consume in one way or another later.
    Hope the wifey's healed up.