Hooked on a Winter's Day

Sightseeing on a winter’s day when it’s well below freezing and there’s snow on the ground is best left to the back seat of a warm car driven by a professional. We cruised beautiful buildings both old and new, sculptures of “The Scout,” “The Muse of the Missouri,” and the “J.C. Nichols Fountain” among all the others that left us feeling awed. The snow seemed to add to the ethereal quality of the art. The fountain was partially covered, but the arching beauty of the horses was a call to the great Italian sculptors of another time. The large bronze image of Rodin’s “The Thinker,” even though a duplication, was impressive, and we agreed that the shuttlecocks on the lawn, also found at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, were just silly. The Korean War Memorial, was sobering, as was The Liberty Memorial. The National World War I Monument tower stood starkly over the landscape, where the 217’ tall silhouette was visible for a great distance from the city. The convention center, the opera hall, the sports stadiums, the arena, and the museums, our driver found no shortage of things to be seen.

Staying on The Plaza had spoiled us when it came to being delighted by its charms. In addition to taking advantage of what the area had to offer, there were fifteen high-end blocks with over a hundred shops and thirty restaurants, all decorated for winter, complete with the normal statuary and fountains on nearly every corner. There were tile mosaics and friezes. It was absolutely beautiful. Add in the fact that it was thick with colorful foot traffic of people carrying their bags, moving between the shops and it was a cacophony of thrills for the eyes. We had circled The Country Club Plaza last with a particular eye for the art it had to offer.

We had our Lyft driver, Arelleno, take us up the hill and into Loose Park. As I suspected, the pond - or lake, as some very generous people called it - was very popular since it had been cold long enough for the engineers to proclaim it safe for people to get out on. It had patches covered with a light coating of snow, as there was enough snow on the ground to cover most of the grass and weed stalks. There were people ranging in age from toddlers to older couples skating hand-in-hand - something the romantic in me couldn't help but hope we might someday be.

There were people “shoe skating,” and people properly “ice skating.” It seemed like there were more in just their shoes than on blades. I pointed out that I would be the former. I didn't even trust my balance to skates.

We walked on down to the pond and stepped down from where cut telephone poles were driven in to edge the pond halfway around. Our idea was to step down and sit on the cut surface of the poles to have a seat to watch the goings-on. I, of course, being naturally graceful, slipped on the post as I tried dropping my foot down, and slid all the way down to the ice. I moaned, and you jumped down and squatted beside me to make sure I was okay. It hurt where I’d knocked my head against the post, but I was hearty enough to get up and go on. After all, we were just planning on shoe skating.

You helped me up and had me sit where I was supposed to in the first place. You gestured for me to stay put and went trotting off. I thought you might be going to get some hot apple cider. Instead, you popped into view carrying two pairs of ice skates. I thought you were amazing for finding them, but I assured you that you didn’t want to see me in ice skates! That’s when you told me not to worry, like so many other things, you are a consummate skater. You even helped me to lace up my skates.

Helping me to my feet, you held my hand and led me into the flow of people on the ice, floating in a counter-clockwise oval around the pond. We fell into an even stride our steps in unison, right, then left – almost like walking, then you pulled me closer, our arms were interwoven. It was simple then for you to take both hands and spin around me, turning to face.

You backed away, releasing my hands, leaving me to stand on my own in the fairly open center area. You skated in reverse, rounding in to a loop of the pond all the way around the island, building up speed to perform consecutive jumps, scissor kicks, and spins, gliding two complete circuits around, so smoothly and so quickly that in no time you were back in front of me, spinning with your arms open wide. You had your skates wide apart then in a matter of seconds, drew them in until your ankles looked crossed and your arms were drawn in tight.

When you came back and extended your hand to me. I suddenly felt like I could skate so much better. Skating hand in hand, forward and in reverse, Your arm around me, our steps mirroring each other. Then you pulled me to face you, extending my arms along with yours, extending our feet pointing outward, insteps matching and not moving, our blades scrying a circle in the ice. I was so stunned to see and cried out “Look what I’m doing!”

About that time, we noticed that Arelleno, our Lyft driver had joined the group around the ice. He donned skates and it was amusing watching him waver and wobble, going in reverse as much as forward, and not apparently by choice. You went to give him an assist and brought him around our side of the circle. You released his arm and gave him space to sail on himself, and he wobbled and rocked on his skates.

As he came around, you reached out and drew him in to skate arm in arm with us as we fell in step to skip our way on the skates back to the far end of the lagoon. Kicking our legs forward and gliding on, we returned down the ice, completing another lap. We returned to leaning far to the right and to the left, skipping, and drifted away, on to the back of the pond.

I heard you call my name over the noise of the pond, sounding concerned, seemingly an urgency in your voice. I was puzzled that since I was arm in arm with you, you would have a need to call for me so intently. You grabbed my arm directly instead of just having it linked like it was necessary for skipping along. As we continued to skip along with Arelleno, you were suddenly brushing the hair off of my forehead. I wasn’t quite sure how you had a hand free for that.

I blinked my eyes and you were kneeling over me. Arelleno was on the other side. My butt was cold from sitting on the ice, where I had apparently been for some time. I was still leaning crookedly against the cut-off telephone poles where I had fallen earlier. I looked at my feet. I was still wearing my Velcro-strapped, New Balance shoes, no ice skates. What had happened to the ice skates?

I was beginning to get the picture and as I looked up and saw medics coming trotting over the hill. There hadn’t been any band, there hadn’t been any hot cider booth, and there hadn’t been any skates. There had been a blow to the head that along with the cold, had allowed me to have a wonderful interlude with you, that you will never remember!

I had to let the paramedics examine me and elicit a promise that I would follow concussion protocol. They handed you a sheet with all the things you should do and what to look out for, and I felt so embarrassed. They agreed to let me continue on with a promise to get checked out, since I had been unconscious for so long, even though they really thought I should go to the hospital, but they couldn’t make me do what I didn’t want to do. My head hurt sufficiently that I wouldn’t forget to think about being careful, and in fact, had quite a lump on it.

You decided it was time to go, telling Arelleno to please bring the car around if he would sign back on to the Lyft app, and and you put in an order that should locate him to pick us up and take us. No promises, but sometimes it actually worked that way - that the driver was already on site and would get the call.

Feeling a little weak myself, you helped me up to the pole to sit while waiting for acknowledgment from the ride app that we were booked. Happily, you said that the computer must’ve known it was something of an emergency because it accepted the driver we wanted and Arelleno could take us back to the hotel rather than having to wait for someone else to arrive. We walked with your arm around me, up over the rise and out to the awaiting car, already warmed up by the time we got there. I felt like you were, as usual, taking such good care of me.

Returning just down the hill, back into the Plaza, and around to the hotel was just a short trip. We said our farewells to Arelleno, thanking him for his service, and made our way back to our temporary home.

You put me straightaway to bed, not taking any argument. You called Room Service and ordered chicken soup and Seven-Up, your mother’s combination for just about any ill. I told you I really wasn’t hungry, but when it came, it smelled so good!

You wouldn’t let me eat, not until I passed your queries of "what is your name, where are you, how are you feeling, how old are you, and how many fingers am I holding up?" I didn’t take it seriously, but you let me know that you were. It grew dark early, and we settled in for watching movies, while you timed interruptions to give me the third-degree and stand concussion watch, watching throughout the night.

And if ever I had doubts about you, you assuaged my fears on just one cold winter’s day.