From Wengen, to Mürren, from Evolene to Kandersteg or Ovronnaz, Leukerbad, Zermatt, Crans-Montana or Nandaz, take a look at Switzerland’s wonderful scenery. Enjoy !
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From Wengen, to Mürren, from Evolene to Kandersteg or Ovronnaz, Leukerbad, Zermatt, Crans-Montana or Nandaz, take a look at Switzerland’s wonderful scenery. Enjoy !
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Sometimes, when when there are no glitches, Air Travel rocks. But most of the time, it has become a nightmare. Make the best out of it with a few tips:
1. Never trust what the airline say.
2. When airline staff say« No problem » it really means « Don’t KNOW the problem. »
3. Fly at times when no one else wants to, for example Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, Easter Sunday.
4. Carry aboard prescription medicines for the duration of the trip vacation and a written explanation of one’s medical condition.
5. Pack snacks such as nuts, dried fruits, and cereal bars. Airlines may charge $3 for a small package of M & Ms or chips.
6. A small empty water bottle passes through security controls and can be refilled as needed.
7. Nowhere is Murphy’s Law (Sod’s Law in the UK) more prevalent than in air travel « accept that what can go wrong, will go worse than you would dream ».
8. Limit carry on baggage as courtesy to fellow passengers, so they won’t have to stow their luggage ten rows away from their assignments seats.
9. An electronic seat assignment does not guarantee a boarding pass, and a frequent flyer membership these days is nothing more than another plastic card in your pocket.
10. Wear comfortable, layered clothes, which make it easy to disrobe at security and to accommodate fluctuating temperature in the aircraft.
11. Forget cost cutting, book the direct flight whenever possible. In the end, it costs less than additional taxi fares, meals and hotel rooms when you miss your connecting flight.
12. Acknowledge that the skies are no longer friendly. Airline companies, even code sharing partners, are at war and passengers are in the line of fire. Accept what you are : at the best a user and very rarely a customer.
Eventually, get rich and fly First, it might do the trick…May be.
Though I never reached my goal to play basketball for Team USA in the Olympics, I have thrown elbows in good company. I played hoops for Illinois State alongside the late Charlotte Lewis, a silver medalist in 1976 , the first year women’s basketball became an Olympic event. In summer camp at ISU, I coached Olympian Cathy Boswell, a 1984 gold medalist. And June 11-30, 2011 during the Senior National Games in Houston Texas, my former co-coach and BFF, Tina Quick, won a gold in 3 on 3.
In 1987, the first National Olympic game debuted in St. Louis with 2,500 participants. Today the National Senior Games Association, (http ://www.nsga.com/ ) Summer Games drew 15,000 athletes, who competed in 18 sports in everything from shuffleboard to triathlon. And get this, the youngest competitor was fifty!
NSGA is a non-profit organization dedicated to motivating active adults to lead healthy lifestyles. With 50 being the new 30 never has the time been more right for women to stay in shape. And nobody trains like Tina, the fifty-five year old blond firecracker, with Native American blood, who runs circles around women decades younger. Though she didn’t have the opportunity to play organized ball growing up, she never missed a beat in adulthood, challenging men in gyms around the globe. Seven years ago, she repatriated to the United States where she met up with the Massachusetts Miracles.
« We went from being the team that couldn’t win a game, to becoming team to beat, » Tina said. « Everyone, except me, played college »
The Miracles is comprised of first generation Title IX athletes, who like myself, became pioneers during the infancy of the women’s game when law mandated equal opportunities for women in education and sport. June Walton, the second all-time leading scorer at her alma mater, Morgan State University, also played in Venezuela and England. Kris Krablin, the only athlete to be named MVP every season, was a Hall of Famer at St. Lawrence University. In 1979, the first year an All State College team was selected, Barbara Cherecwich became a first team All Stater from Worcester State College.
The Miracles won the state competition to qualify and then swept 7 rounds in the games. My five-foot- five friend played early on in the tournament, but for the finals she insisted, « You big girls go do your stuff – I’ll take over on the sideline. » The only team without a manager, Tina, then went onto coach her Miracles to victory capturing the gold in the 50+ age category.
« Like at the Olympics, we had an opening ceremony, parade of competitors, athlete’s village and medal platform. The Olympic Torch, carried across Texas, was lit by a 100 year old man. »
Tina walked off the podium with not only a gold, but also a stash of giveaways – pill boxes, jump ropes, energy drinks, cool bands, health tips and other prizes. But according to Tina, the best part of the games was the great ambiance, team camaraderie and support from friends and families .
« One lady, a seventy year old, stopped me and asked if she could touch my medal.»
When my pro basketball career ended abruptly due to a car accident, my goal to shoot hoops into my sunset years never materialized. In time, I learned to let go and share in the joy of others’ dreams. Nobody cheered louder than me for my former athletes competing in European clubs, for my little sister, playing in a 5 on 5 league in Minneapolis or for my buddy in Boston, who just came home with the gold.
Apparently seniors are alive and well. The Summer Games, NSGA’s signature event, has become one of the biggest multi-sport happenings on the planet; my friend Tina could be the spokesperson.
During the festivities, Gloria Gaynor, belted out, « I will survive. »
I slapped my knee, tickled pink and echoed her battle cry,
« Go granny go ! »
I never graduated from high school. Not officially. Sure I got my diploma, but I never tossed my cap to the wind. I was sick the day of graduation. Back then it was simple. We had one senior picture, a ceremony on the field and a little cake and punch party with a few family and friends.
The class of ‘75 signed year books, promised to keep in touch and moved on. With the exception of a handful of close friends – living within a block – I lost touch with everyone until 35 years later, when I reconnected with classmates via Facebook (which, incidentally, today’s youth complain the old people are ruining!)
In June 1975, to humor my parents, I donned the blue gown with the gold tassels and stood in the yard while my grandma snapped a half a dozen blurry photos from an Instamatic. And that was that. Then I headed back to the gym to shoot hoops.
Big difference from the grad walk of today. For my niece, Hannah, a senior at Armstrong High School, it was a whole new ball game.
In the fields behind the Minneapolis suburban school, graduates spilled over an emerald hilltop in a sea of red, while parents sat in soccer chairs capturing the event on camcorders. Then to keep the kids off the street, parents chaperoned students at an all night party filled with games, magic, music and movies.
Weeks later, Hannah hosted a grad party. She invited her rugby team, half the church, the entire neighborhood and all of the relatives from Chicago to Omaha and in-between. Hannah has lots of friends. From the time she was born, the ready-with-a-smile, happy-go-lucky, laid-back kid always drew a crowd.
These days, the grad party is a must. The invitation, which features the student in a favorite pose from the hundred-some senior pictures, is more elaborate than wedding cards were in my day. (Hannah’s sister, Marie, graduated three years ago, but her invitation remains on my frig, too beautiful to throw away.)
The party can be extravagant, complete with bouncy castles and gourmet meals, but Hannah, settled on a simpler fare, featuring her favorites – croissant sandwiches and ice cream treats.
Food ordered, tents set up, card tables unfolded, coolers packed. And a room filled with of memorabilia of student life : a bulletin board of childhood photos, dance recital, play bills, band equipment, musical instruments, certificates, medals, trophies, team jerseys, diplomas, stuffed animals, postcards, bits and bobs of a child’s’ magic moments. « I thought shrines were at wakes,» I said to my sister.
« Just shows how long you’ve been out of the country, Sis. »
And forget gram’s fuzzy black and white photos. Nowadays the event will be commemorated on video and DVD. While in progress, graduates cover Facebook pages with hundreds of photos for the entire world to admire.
My only dream back in the seventies was to play ball; Hannah set a more noble goal. She is going to be a neonatal nurse; she has already cuddled premies as a volunteer at the local hospital. She started applying for scholarships her junior year. With her dad’s Nebraskan Big Red blood, Hannah knew (before anyone else) that she was headed to Creighton in Omaha, where the rest of the Carlson clan lives.
Yep, babysitter, soccer player, a State rugby champ, honor student, loyal sister, fun loving friend, kidding cousin, nifty niece, cherished granddaughter, a dream child and all around good kid. No matter what hat she wears, Hannah fits the bill.
Back in the ‘60s when girls’ sport were taboo, my dad taught me how to throw a perfect spiral, pitch a baseball and shoot a basket. Each time he tossed the ball to my brother, he also threw once to me. He made sure to hit each of us an equal number of pop ups to field. He showed me how to hold a baseball glove, pump up a basketball and take a fish off the hook.
Like the Pied Piper, as soon as kids saw my dad arrive home from his teaching job, they lined up for a turn at bat. Soon he was pitching whiffle balls to the entire neighborhood. Instead of grass in our backyard, we had permanent dirt-patch bases, a diamond in the rough, the Field of Dreams for an entire generation.
Even though I never saw any other fathers in the yard shooting hoops with their daughters, I never thought it odd. Chasing grounders, running passing patterns and learning the baseline drive with my dad seemed as natural as breathing. After all, he was a coach and I was an athlete. So what if it took the rest of the society a few decades to catch up.
Today with the acceptance of girls’ sports and working moms the norm, dads’ coaching daughters is no longer an anomaly. The Women’s Rights Movement also liberated men to assume a greater hands-on role in fatherhood.
Today’s dads are free to coach Little League AND girls’ soccer, to build camp fires, make tree forts, piece together Legos, to change diapers, give baths, bandage cuts. They can also bake birthday cakes, read Good Night Moon, cook bœuf bourguignon and grill burgers.
Throughout our children’s youth, my husband worked the score table, drove the van for our daughter and son’s teams and prepared gourmet meals for all of us. Gérald never batted an eye about running a printing business during the day, and then wearing the apron at night. Though it may have been a typical behavior for a Frenchman, he paid the bills, balanced the budget and brought home the bacon, proud to be a family man.
Just as I witnessed my dad in multiple roles – caring teacher, inspiring coach, loyal husband -my children saw their father as tough and tender, demanding and nuturing, competitive and compassionate.
Kids raised in families with ball-playing moms and story-reading dads make for a balanced, healthy, wholesome childhood. Whether organizing car pools, building sand castles or playing catch, adults investing time in youth yields the greatest dividends. Worth all the gold in the world !
No one who knows me believes that my first love was not basketball, but football, American football (not what the rest of the world calls football, and we call soccer). I longed to play the game reserved for boys only.
The greatest thrill of my athletic career was not breaking scoring records or winning basketball championships, but playing right offensive end in our powder puff football game the night before homecoming 1974.
In a tied ball game, with 58 seconds left on the clock, my BF Peggy “Super Crunch” Dietz and her defensive line stopped the ball at our 2-yard line. Another good buddy, QB Chrissie “Iron Arm” hit me with a perfect spiral on the sideline. I ran 98 yards to victory, spiked the ball in the end zone and danced under the stars.
For one night I felt invincible in the glory of Friday Night Lights.
So naturally, thirty-five years later, no one cheered louder than me when my niece Hannah, started playing rugby. Rugby? Yup, you betcha. Cute blondes in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, getting down and dirty, hitting hard, laughing loud, locking arms, and building bonds.
Hannah joined the team her junior year, learned the rules on the fly and found out, oh yeah, girls hit hard, too. Long-legged Hannah became the girl they throw in the air as the Robbinsdale Armstrong defending state champions returned for a repeat.
As a grassroots club team, not yet recognized as a high school sport, the no-glory girls fought for recognition, raised their own money for red and blue uniforms, and traveled in family vans to compete in tournaments.
Rugby is the ultimate team sport. Last year’s team graduated 13 of 15 starters. “Your bench has to be as good as what you have on the field,” Coach Hanson said. And they were. Last week, Armstrong girls rugby entered the tournament undefeated and claimed the crown.
Tim Nolan’s Robbinsdale girls’rugby club, started in 2004, was ahead of the game and like Sterling High School girls’ basketball in the 70’s, developed into a state powerhouse. In 1977, my sister, Karen, played for Sterling in first state girls high school championship. Now Mom and daughter can boast of being state champs in the infancy of their respective sports.
But what really tickled me pink was the fan club. Proud rugby dads with painted faces and red-tinted hair, cheered on daughters who loved to tackle.
Hannah bejeweled in a purple gown, gossamer slippers and hair coiffed in a French braid, was a Prom night princess one weekend and hit the dirt wearing a mouth guard and headgear the next.
It’s a win-win situation. Bold, buff and beautiful! Today girls can paint nails, lead cheers and body slam. Too cool!