Ice

  One thing I liked to do growing up was going roller skating.  I wasn't very good and had a hard time stopping, but it was fun.  We had a couple of rinks near where I lived.  It was only natural to see if I could ice skate.

 Our youth group from Kilbourne Park Baptist Church went to the Rockbridge Country Club.  They had an ice rink.  It wasn't very big, but it was cool on a hot day.  There were one or two kids who could skate on ice.  I was very good at slipping and falling.  It got to the point where I just hugged the railing and pretended to skate.  My ankles weren't strong enough to balance on a thin blade.  That was the only time I have ever skated on ice on purpose.  I have done that, when the sidewalk or road was iced over, and usually that resulted in bruises like I got on the rink.  

 The last time I roller skated was with our Singles group from First Baptist Church.  I was much better by then.  It was a fun time with a group of friends I adored.  The cool thing about that roller rink was they had padding along the side of the rink, so you didn't have to fall on a hard surface.  Falling was easy.  Getting up was hard.  Just like life.

Connections

 Over the course of my life, I have made a lot of connections with people who some would consider famous.  Or, I have made connections with people who had a connection with someone famous.  I have tried to guard both kinds of connections, because even famous people should have their privacy.  

 For example, when I got Yoko Ono's home address and phone number, I didn't share it with anyone.  There was no reason to.  We could correspond back and forth, but the whole world didn't need that information from me.  When I knew what hotel Dennis Hopper was staying at while filming "Chattahoochee", there was no reason for me to share that information with others.  He just wanted his privacy off of the set.  Respect goes a long way when dealing with famous people.  

 One connection I made was with someone who worked for George Harrison, as he was dying from cancer.  For example, I knew that the house he was in was in Los Angeles, and that Paul McCartney had offered the house for George.  I also knew that the house was protected from curious fans.  When George died, I knew about it six hours before it was released to the press.  I didn't run around and tell people guess what I knew?  There was no reason to.  I was just able to grieve by myself before the world did.  

 Some people reading this, who knew me from work, would find this strange.  After all, I enjoyed store gossip.  I liked to spread gossip.  Sometimes just for fun to see how different it would be, when it got back to me.  I didn't really want to hurt anyone with gossip, but sometimes I did.  I lost friends because of gossip, and I regret that.  

 There are stories about others (and me) that I will take to my grave.  For those connections, trust is everything.