Pueblo Skate-A-Palooza!: or Don't Stand So Close To Me

So I still had something to learn about children's figure skating, though some of the weaker performances at Four Continents should have, I think, satisfied me in that respect.

Call this PART THREE OF MY EDUCATION

Kate gives figure skating lessons to kids, and like any coach with a purpose, she's got goals for them. She preps some of them for competitions, and recently she asked me to tag along to a Sunday afternoon affair in which she'd entered two of her students.

I was eager to keep her company, for the competition would be held 35 miles south of us, in this town. I went not because the place appeals to me -- quite the contrary. It's because nobody deserves to spend a day there alone.

Like Colorado Springs, it is an overgrown small town, but without the... zest for life. Any tourism/promotional photos of Pueblo predictably showcase its beautiful Riverwalk just as ours can't seem to leave out Pikes Peak. This image consolidation is more necessary in Pueblo's case, however, because what isn't Riverwalk, for all intents and purposes, is Purgatory.

FUN FACT: You can always distinguish Pueblo residents from other Coloradans because they have a certain "glow" about them. Some say it's the uranium content in their drinking water.

The Ice Center was packed with girls ages 6-13, with the occasional boy who assuredly gets throttled with sticks by the other lads at school. When Kate wasn't at my side, I sat in the bleachers a 22-year-old man, seemingly attached to no one at the little girls' figure skating competition, an event only slightly less creepy than a little girls' beauty pageant. I naturally kept my nose buried in Philip Roth's My Life As a Man, an unsuccessful distraction because one of its more disturbing plot points is intentionally reminiscent of Lolita.

My reading session was treated to program music consisting mostly of "Hakuna Matata" and Phantom of the Opera medleys. Only when I heard "Black Magic Woman" did I feel something was wrong, in a Little Miss Sunshine sort of way.

Every now and then I'd look up to see what was happening. A Bryce, a Madison, or a Kelsey would be gliding very slowly around a small section of the rink with her arms locked up in a downward V-- a pose meant to display grace but more likely serving a protective function. Whoever did "jumps" would perform what I call a half-lutz, or a 180-degree hop, landing backwards on the opposite leg. The coup de grace for most programs was a spin, which actually looks even more impressive when an eight-year-old is doing it than a competitive Senior skater.

I'm sure Kate's girls are hard workers, but I began to sympathize with her struggle to make competitive skaters out of children their age. Given their obvious limitations, it's much more difficult to choreograph for young ones than for experienced skaters. Where you can suggest that a veteran do an Arabesque, you can only ask the novice to Lift One Foot Without Falling.

Kate spent most of the competition counseling her wards rinkside, otherwise being a presence for them. She looked like a figure skating coach, despite the fact that she was pretty young (20) and not wearing a fleece vest. I can confidently say there's nothing more attractive than someone in her element, her natural state.

One of her students, unfortunately being ill, finished 5th in her group, but Kate's other student emerged the victor in hers -- and that was decidedly the focus of discussion on our ride home. Occasionally I would peer into the rear view mirrors, knowing I'd be heading back that direction in a week's time, for an academic pursuit of mine that would be drastically different. And one I'll probably write about once the weekend's over.

I Have Become an Expert in: Figure Skating

Which tends to happen if you date a figure skater for an extended period of time. For more than ten years, Kate has been in the sport -- a passion that eventually led her to this town two years ago. We're apparently living in one of the top three places to train in the country, and of them this is probably the best place to live.

I was partially unaware of that: Colorado Springs' interest in skating ain't what it used to be. You'd think it'd be pretty easily sustained by the presence of Olympic Training Center, the Broadmoor Skating Club, and the World Figure Skating Hall of Fame, but the last Springs-based competitor recognizable to the laymen was Todd Eldridge. That's back in the day. Nancy-Kerrigan-got-it-in-the-knee day.

So I've been watching competitions with Kate, and learning quite a bit in the process. When she was at my house a few weeks ago, she'd suddenly remembered something and cried, "Nationals are on! Check ESPN, ESPN 2, whatever might have it." This particular competition was special to Kate because it'd be the first time one of her best friends, Jeremy Abbott, made a TV appearance... that is, if he did well enough in short program and ranked in. She was bouncing with anxiety, which got me bouncing with anxiety, and when I flipped to the designated network to see a college hoops game still dragging with two minutes left, we flailed on the bed and yelled curses. I have never uttered this before, but I wanted a basketball game to hurry up and end so I could watch male figure skating.

But the game wrapped up, and the Nationals were finally streamed to the network. Ironically enough, Jeremy Abbott's face on close up was the first thing we saw. The man skated his program solidly, which was enough to land him 4th place and a spot as alternate for the U.S. Men's Olympic team.

And Kate does her laundry at his place every Wednesday.

...

Should I feel threatened? Well, I'm not. I'm gleaming with athleticism, myself, being as good a bowler as I am.


PART TWO OF MY EDUCATION

Last Saturday, Colorado Springs hosted the Four Continents International Competition -- a big deal -- at the World Arena.

In Kate's expert opinion, we arrived there way too early. See, at the beginning of a long program competition, the fellas who finished last in short program skate first, so she was right: we were way too early. We watched 20 programs in all, each aiming around 4 and a half minutes in length, and as we saw the skaters get better and better, I learned what separated the elite from the hacks.

For a couple of the bottom-ranked guys, for example, it was bewildering that they were considered to have the stuff of international competition. When compared to the upper crust, the programs of the 15-20th ranked guys would have made more sense if they were skating in, say, overalls and yellow bike helmets. I mean, the gap was enormous. A lot of them seemed completely unaware of the crowd and their music as they mechanically ran through their canned choreography: "Skate over here... jump. Skate over there... jump again. Oh, time for spins. Well, I'll spin here. Spin. Spin. Spin."

I also enjoyed making fun of their musical choices. One fellow (and there's always one) skated to Phantom of the Opera, and Kate gagged. It's just like every karaoke night some chick gets up on stage without fail and belts out "I Love Rock and Roll." But the difference to Kate and me is that we like Phantom of the Opera.

But really, we came to see our hometown boy, Jeremy.

It's difficult to explain what makes him so good besides mentioning that his skating is strikingly sincere. Ryan Bradley's got the monopoly on tongue-in-cheek hip shaking, it seems, but let him keep it; Jeremy's just straight-up, gimmick-free skill. Because of this he's unlikely to be the most entertaining skater on any given show or competition, but neither will he be dull to any degree. He took the bronze.

Everybody knows that one of the most prominent byproducts of dating is access to social worlds or knowledge you wouldn't otherwise have. Or bothered with, to tell the truth. But it's fun and interesting, nonetheless, and Kate's been more than patient with my inquisitiveness.

There's one thing left, though: I'm going to have to learn to ice skate. And I don't want anyone there to see that.

Lite Brites Shut Down Bean Town

But to no benefit of the perpetrators, oddly enough.

Really, I'm puzzled as to why Aqua Teen Hunger Force's little electronic "art" campaign in Boston hasn't exploded into increased ratings for the cartoon, at least right off the bat. I had a theory last week that's apparently collapsing with the results.

First of all, the city's response: post 9-11 knee-jerking? Perhaps so, but as a "publicist", you've just got to account for that paranoia. You can't place anything resembling bomb-like devices in strategic areas like bridges without anticipating that kind of reaction. At least after the first two or three weeks they're up there, apparently. That's when Bostonians walk pass them at night for the eleventh time and think, You know what? I really don't like this little guy's attitude.

The circuit boards and exposed wires don't help matters, and even a social retard can expect the multi-million dollar cavalry being called in.

Which I'm pretty sure these marketing fellows did, and that's the interesting part.

What I'm getting at is that Turner Broadcasting got fined $2 million for the stunt, which they probably predicted would be a small price to pay for the widespread exposure. Compare that to the $2.6 million it takes to air your talking animals/cubicle humor/hilarious head injuries/etc. during the Superbowl, and you'll figure why illegal publicity can be preferable to traditional advertising. Guerilla advertisers post inappropriate things where they shouldn't by pure convention. Turner and company just did it to an impressive yet asinine scale.

Regardless of whether or not they reached more people than a Superbowl spot, the Lite-Brites were an acceptable approach to the target audience. I know the kind of folks who'd enjoy Aqua Teen, and the "bad" publicity wouldn't deter them, in theory, from watching the show due to some moral conflict. Not that established viewers would boycott the show, necessarily; if anything, they'd probably rally behind the stunt.

"The Mooninite was flipping the bird at people? Du-u-u-ude, that's ownage!"

So honestly, I don't know what to make of this one -- you'd think the ploy would have increased interest in the show, not to mention the Aqua Teen movie that's approaching release. Any theories?