It’s not like ice skating in the old days

DANETTE GOULET

My mother, like many parents, used to talk about how things were when

she grew up in Minneapolis, Minn. Not in an Abe Simpson, nutty sort

of way -- or even an “I walked barefoot in the snow, up hill both

ways” kind of thing. She just told stories that made life seem less

complicated and really fun.

The story I remember the best was about how in the winter, she and

her brothers and sister and neighborhood friends would walk down to

the park and go ice skating for hours. For some reason, that always

sounded wonderful to me -- like a scene out of a movie.

So when I heard there was going to be an ice rink in Downtown

Huntington Beach, I thought it was one the coolest things I’d ever

heard. Now, children in Surf City could have some semblance of what

my mother experienced. OK, fine, I planned to go, too. But still,

what a great idea.

So Monday night after work, I threw on jeans and flip-flops and I

dragged my boyfriend, Kyle, down to the ice rink. I’m pretty sure my

mom never changed from flip-flops to skates at the side of the ice.

But that certainly was not the only difference.

Let me backtrack a minute and offer you my limited ice skating

experience. Where I grew up, in Concord, Mass., there was a pond of

sorts behind my house. It was small and overgrown, and we had to be

preemptive and remove a lot of debris before the ice froze or there

would be only about two feet to skate on. But it was still killer. We

didn’t skate as much as you might expect, however. We had a couple of

pairs of skates that my sisters and I tried on each year. If they fit

us, we’d skate that year -- if they didn’t, we wouldn’t. We certainly

could have asked my parents to get us skates, we just didn’t.

The last time a pair of skates fit was sometime in elementary

school. I have ice skated one lap around an ice rink since then, as a

challenge for a column I wrote years ago in Florida.

So as we passed the rink at Pier Plaza, where a couple kids zipped

around sending up a spray, and headed down to Zacks to get skates and

tickets, I began to get a little nervous -- I was going to break my

neck. (Difference No. 2) Children are fearless.

I tentatively stepped onto the ice, expecting the worst. I am

happy to report, however, that I did not wipe out once. Kyle might

tell you that’s because I was going too slow to be in danger of

falling.

After just a few minutes, I had taken off the gloves that seemed

so appropriate for ice skating, and had pushed up the sleeves of my

sweater. (Difference No. 3) It was not terribly cold out.

As we tooled around the ice listening to holiday music, which I

love, I couldn’t help thinking this is nothing like the winter

wonderland I pictured my mother skating in as a girl. But as I skated

loops and looked out at the pier and the darkened surf, I realized

that being able to wear flip-flops and get a surf session in before

ice skating more than made up for the lack of snow.

* DANETTE GOULET is the city editor. She can be reached at (714)

965-7170 or by e-mail at danette.goulet@latimes.com.