South Cows Have Triple Toes

Tonight was the first time I attended any event that was held outside of the school grounds. Min's much awaited Stars On Ice was in town for a one night only show. Though not an avid fan of ice-skating, I've come to know the household names, even if some of the terminology does elude me. For example, a "south cow" (spelling it as I hear it) is supposed to be a move where the skater jumps in the air and spins for a predetermined number of rounds. To me it's just prime rib, pure and simple. I don't really care much whether the cow spoke with an accent, as long as it wasn't the gibberish produced by many of the mad-cows from across the Atlantic. These, and other terms were involuntarily osmosised (if there's such a word) into my database through an almost painless procedure called cable television. Ok, to be honest, it stings a little, but only when your favourite basketball team is playing on another channel.
Anyway, back to tonight. It was rather surreal to see the skaters in person. Scott Hamilton, Kurt Browning, Tara Lipinski, Kristi Yamaguchi and many other names once associated solely with television were now in the flesh. Though dance wasn't my cup of tea, I began to learn the appreciation of figure skating. Scott and Kurt helped out a lot by making their performances comical, adding theatrics unto the abstract. Soon, I found myself enjoying the performances of people who glided over the large smooth surface, whose arms flowed with such grace. It's the closest one gets to flying I guess. I know I wouldn't pay good money to watch a two minute skydiving performance, that's for sure.
Women in sequined costumes that reflected the light a million different ways, their hair dancing in the wind. And the arms of the strong men who held them up, protecting them from the cold hard surface beneath them. And there we were, the audience, amongst the clouds, watching the angels flit by.

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