If someone handed you a violin when you were five, did you have the natural ear and dexterity –the hardwiring– to become a virtuoso? And what if no one ever handed you a violin and, so instead, you ended up a respected motivational speaker? Or a middling accountant? Or a temp floating between jobs and the bottle? What if the bit of you that is your natural legacy diminishes, lies unrecognized, remains hidden.
These are the questions doped-up kids and failures ponder. I think about it all the time.
Today, Vic and I applied as a two-man team to the U.S. National Tobogganing Championships. We must wait a week to find out if we are accepted. I have never competed nationally before. This February, I hope to change that.
What if I’m a tobogganing genius? What if I take to the sled like those baby penguins that just get up, waddle a bit, and swoop down the iceberg into the ocean? What if this is my gift?
Ed. Note: We found out last night that we did not get one of the coveted last eight spots. We may still travel to Camden to try the run and winter camping, but alas, it seems likely that we will never learn if tobogganing is a latent talent of mine.