SKI? Honesty is the Best Policy!



ders!

Readers! Boy, do I have some good news typing outta these frozen fingers of mine. It's one about me (come to think, all of them are. ha, ha! )

being really

put out

and then being

happy

about some good customer service. Not just prednisone swinging me.

When you have multiple diseases, or not, that is always a good thing. Here's the story.:


Well, J. took up some new sports.
changed from boarding to skiing mid child-hood. That always makes a parent smile, right?

AS if  every day J. grows isn't enough!  How many times do you get them shoes that fit and then they are complaining cause their toes are getting street burn? I know. Super annoying. But I guess I did decide to have him and learned in college that babies do grow.  psh.

So winter comes and he needs a coat. He gets one. It's bulky. He skis in it and is fine. But it is bulky and he can't do tricks, like fall down the mountain as easily in a bulky coat vs. a thinner coat. I even told him:

"Back in our day we wore bright colored bulky coats filled with pure down by Columbia up the hill both ways and we didn't complain, Son."

--It actually made falling a little easier in my honest opinion- having pure down loft to soften the blow to your unhelmeted head.  But back then they didn't make coats for your legs and ankles so when they "twizzled" (Olympic word! I don't know if I used it correctly, but there it is!) up together after you were midway down skier's lane.


Those were embarassing times, eh? Falling down the wrong lane.Which is the one where lots of people are flying by.

-When some guy (I am assuming it was a guy but not sure cause my glasses were fogged up) comes up to you and says something about your pole or a ski were seen by the sign that diverges betweeen the face and the lane you are on. I just nodded and told him as soon as I untied my legs I'd hike back up there.

And I had to remind him that back in my day- we learned to fall on our OWN! Dad took us to the resort where he had a "case of trouble" with work on their phone systems, we were outfitted with skiis, poles, boots they pulled from a freezer, and shoved onto the bunny hill. We had to resort to our own basic instincts when it came to learning to ski. None of this prior instruction. Well, one lady did tell us a story about snow plows but what they had to do with me getting down the hill, I had no idea. I just nodded about to be polite.

Kelly Canyon's rope tow wasn't the plush system they have now, either.




It was a huge cable that drug on the ground and if you were the only person to need up it you carried the weight of the football length frozen cable by your blimey self. There wasn't a ski instructor there to tell you it was safe to get on the ski lift after so many times down the bunny hill! You asked the person on the lift next to you how to get off.

That was after they quit stopping the lift for you at the top so you could get off and just slide down the hill. Oh, and there wasn't any pause like there is today for you to get on. We had Olympic time differences where it swung back slightly from the curve it had just gone around and then hit the back of your leg, knocking you backwards into its seat. This is where a lot of kids had to suddenly pee.

For a girl, getting down the hill, in the lodge, finding the bathrooms, unzipping coats and bibs and sitting down is way harder than it is for guys to go. That reminds me of the days when I had an unbelievably strong bladder. Which only brought on misery holding it all that time. Should have just peed my pants.

Whoa, what's this post about? Oh, yeah! Great Customer Service! It'll have to hold a minute. Hope it has a steel bladder like mine was.....*


Thank goodness for basketball season and coaches telling us:

 

"No Skiing!"

 

 

 They didn't want us getting hurt during the season. If we were going to break or sprain an ankle, it was on their time! And, hello! This was, like, NBA for 8th graders!

My ankles obliged to their wishes to sprain themselves on several occassions. Now they are really flimsy. Behold: the inflatable ankle cast. I'd kill for one of these right now thanks to the older, but still flimsy ankles.

Chel, don't these bring back sweet memories? Me being in it just for walking up the street with out tying my shoe laces, for instance?

And, to help me play better, I got hard contact lenses. They were ones that let air through them though which was huge technology back then and they held my eye in a position that corrected the astigmatism. their name: GAS PERMEABLES. Whole book on those babies right there.

Suffice it to say that, in the cold, on the mountain for instance, the breathable contacts froze to my eye balls.

Fogged glasses or frozen eyes is a toss up to me.


Despite my limited runs down the ski hills, I managed to disobey coaches and fall down the hill a bit more during the time when I was flexible, athletic and minus RA and Gastro Challenged.

My last run was with my cousin at Targhee. I knew it was the last time I would set boot on a hill again. (Cause of Crohns) I tried really hard to get down that hill a few times when finally I told my cousin to go ahead with out me and he'd find me in the lodge. I didn't know anything about prednisone. Anything about arthritis. I just knew my bones hurt so bad. And that something was wrong with me that I had no idea about. In fact, I had no idea it would cause sprained ankles without even going skiing.

That time was when boarding was getting cool. So I didn't even have time to be cool and show off to win a guy or make half pipe a sport included in the Olympics. Dang.


But!


 I had a son.

Above: Kevin, with his mom, Pia, after his Traumatic Brain Injury boarding and before he hit the slopes again. (See The Crash Reel)



And because of J.,


I found my feet on the mountains again. Only this time it was getting him arranged to ski, then off the hill, arranged back in the car and back home. And doing things like make sure he stays clothed and alive and other important things. (And like on Crash Reel, Kevin Pearce reminds us that Tramatic Brain Injuries can remind us that the MIND has MOUNTAINS. Which I knew from my ordeal. But he makes it look cooler.

 

Kevin climbing..... recovering from the TBI.



In my opinion, since I had to climb the hill both ways as a kid and hold onto the cable to get up the bunny hill to ski or get on the lift to skier's lane, J. had nothing to complain about! He wasn't getting his cool thin jacket to go up some hill easily with some ski lessons or something! Right?

 In order to find my order, I got on Amazon and located the company that was to be sending it. And found that they were no longer in the loop or something. And I just went and found another company to get it or how did that all play out?

The waiting was long for J. For him to endure a prayer was even sent to the heavens. (Try dealing with a particularly bad stint of your immune system eating itself, and then hearing the sweet innocent and genuine plea from a boy who just wants his coat to come. I told the Lord to forgive him for not remembering to put it into perspective. And my consolation was that he'd learn to endure more torture than waiting for a coat, before life let him loose. Actually, that part made me sad to tell the truth. Try sitting there with your guts digesting themselves and your son having no clue what was ahead. Taking second in the Olympics doesn't even come close to the torture this thought is to a parent.)

*Oh, now that I think about taking first or second in the Olympics- my physical therapist and I had a pretty funny conversation about taking gold. As he strung me up to electical devices, he reminded me of the Seinfeld episode where they make fun of those who take gold. Yup. The person who wins by ten seconths of a second, is up there on the podium thinking: "I won Gold. All these people next to me and what not were behind me by a hair. Ha, ha."

But they have the last laugh all the way to sponsorship bank.

Back to the story in the story......

It was so funny when Fed Ex would come and J would be really excited only to see  Wal-Mart had something like disinfectant  or Clorox wipes for me. Gag packages! Literally. Cause they all are for my office.

When the amount of days turned to weeks was when I started to pray too.It was  Not looking good. I got onto Zon, like I said and found the dealer,wrote a letter. This was really putting me out cause the snow was turning to slush here. The wind obliterating the powder and showing the ugly dead grass.

 So in my letter I explained my disease and how this whole thing of not getting our package, was really not helping my current flare. And to top it off I noticed an ADDITIONAL item I had not ordered, that  I would have to send back something. So not only did I have to pay for it and let them have my money until I got my butt over to the post office- we still didn't have the blimey coat!


So that would charge me the expense of sending it back. After Christmas I so learned a lesson that I didn't learn from myself and that was to order anything with out trying it on in person.

So,with the expectation that it would be weeks until I heard from oblivion sales in the wide world of Amazon, I sent the letter.

Boom. Five seconds later, Inbox bling sound and I have an email and it isn't junk email. It was DJ Board Shop's employee Leslie. What in the world... She apoligized and instructed me on how to get the shipment re-sent to them and my money back as pronto as possible.

then it came. I was learning how to tailor online and Jaden came down stairs with a package that said to not cut it open with a knife. Which is what he does to all packages but with this one, he felt it could ruin his coat and wanted to be extra careful.

We got the box opener from my tool kit, opened it to find the extra items, ANOTHER extra item, and...... HIS COAT!!!!

for a split second I was so mad. Here was an expensive item that was now also put to my card. Dad blammit! Got online and found out it wasn't. oops. Had they sent it to us to make up for the time?
Or was it a mistake? For another hair of a moment I contemplated NOT telling them or sending it back.

Then I did it. I wrote another letter. I told them the extra item in the package. Then sadly sat on the bean bag watching J. put on his jacket and be happy. Bing. Email. uh-oh. I was right. Mistake.

Dang it. Now it would cost that much more for the extra ounces to be sent back to the board shop.

Then.... Leslie said this: "- actually let me paraphrase, She said we could keep it.

What? Who does that? Would Amazon done that? Do they give little coupons for making big mistakes?    btw my hands still are not unthawed. This is a bad sign. I have kitten paws three hours into the day.

Anyway-

THANK YOU,

 

Leslie

 @

 DJ's Boardshop,



 You have customer service that is hard to find these days! And, like the site states: Honest Rider.
(DJ said that his crew is honest. glad I was. whew. close call.)

You have our loyalty.

Readers, DJ's has stuff for camping, biking, boating, boarding, and skiing. And apparently watches. So go there! On your computer. Cause they are not in Idaho and show them the love cause they went to town for us.

I won't be texting much today. See? Readers, you received all the love my paws could type today!