In preparation for this year of Super Bowl half-time show viewing, I watched a video of the show during the 1992 Super Bowl (the first time the event was ever held in Minnesota).

It has featured appearances by Dorothy Hamill and Brian Boitano skating on teflon, the 1980 Olympics U.S. hockey team, the University of Minnesota’s marching band (go, Gophers!), ballroom dancers, hockey stick formations, and dancers wearing a shade of green that really shouldn’t exist, even in the imagination. And poor, poor Gloria Estefan, dressed in something that vaguely resembles a skating dress. (Luckily, they invited her back some years later to perform with Stevie Wonder and she looked fully recovered. Life does give us some second chances.)

The theme is “Winter Magic.” Be afraid, be very afraid.

Sigh. Now I have to include the video, just because I mentioned it. But a warning: if you watch it, you may have nightmares regardless of whether or not you lived through the late 1980s.

Here are some reasons to watch:

1. Sheer boredom + curiosity + the burning desire to see what inspired them to invite Michael Jackson to perform at the Super Bowl the following year.
2. Winter blues that can only be cured by some kind of shock therapy.
3. The need to watch something so awful that being able to turn it off makes you feel in control of your own life choices.
4. As a reminder that whatever Coldplay and Beyonce have to offer this year, at least it’s not a reprise of “Winter Magic.” (I hope.)

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And please don’t watch it for the skating. . . Nooooo!!!

I am so sorry you had to see that. The horror, the horror!

To get rid of those snowflakes, here’s Michael Jackson in 1993 and the return of Gloria in 1999.

So the other day PT Sarah told me that I needed to work on lengthening the small of my back. I think it’s her way of saying “tailbone down,” though since I was in plank position at the time, it felt more like I was growing a dorsal fin out of my back.

Not a large dorsal fin, like on a sailfish, but a small one like on a dolphin or a shark (or a whale, but I’m not sure that’s a comparison I want to make while I’m trying to do a plank). This helps me stabilize my lower back position and gets my core abdominals to kick in automatically.

My imaginary dorsal fin is proving quite useful on the ice as well as off. It is another way to make sure my torso is lined up right over my skate and facing the proper direction. I find that I am sometimes just a little off the circle as I push or as my free leg comes in. But once I thought about keeping my “fin” consistently over my blade, it seemed to help a lot.

I found an interesting article that says that our human genetic circuitry for arms and legs actually developed from midline (or dorsal) fins. So there is something quite basic about the idea of having a dorsal fin. The wikipedia entry for “dorsal fin” says that the fin is there mainly “to stabilize the animal against rolling and to assist in sudden turns.”

Perfect for the Kilian!

As it turns out, the potato-like rock I found in my garden also looks like one of Pluto’s moons! Up until today, I didn’t even know that Pluto had moons.

And one of them, Nix, even rotates chaotically (there’s a cool video link in the N.Y. Times article on Pluto’s moons). Doesn’t that sound like a skater we know?

In contrast, Janey’s spins are not chaotic, but beautifully centered. This one is even at center ice!

So the next time I am a little out of control on the ice, just call me Nix!

So I walk into the rink the other day and my friend Sonia says, “Hey, I got you a present.” It’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas or Hanukkah or New Year’s or any other celebratory occasion, but she hands me this…

…and says, “This is to remind you of your friend.” And I remembered, and burst out laughing.

Sonia had a Valentine’s Day party this year, and one of the games we played was to pick out M&Ms from a bowl. Each color corresponded to a topic that we had to talk about, like “favorite restaurant” or “person you’d most like to meet.” Mine was “childhood friend,” and so I told a story about my friend the bee.

One summer when I was little (old enough to go outside by myself but not old enough for school) I remember having a friend who was a bee.  I would go out each day and sit on the back stoop and this bee would come and fly around my head and then fly off. This went on for days. I can still remember what it felt like to have him fly around my head.

Then one day I went out and found him smashed against the picnic table.

So Sonia remembered my rather tragic story (which came off as quite funny in retrospect) and got me this little plastic guy to commemorate my early friendship and loss. I hung this new friend (he is part of a keychain) on my skating bag to remind me that these relationships never lose their importance, even half a century (or more) later.

He even lights up!