Skate or Die? Um… When Do You Need My Decision?

Photo by Hayley of Hayley's Horror Hut,
a.k.a. Prima Donatello, the webmistress
of Apple City Roller Derby

I should be skating right now—or, at least, wanting to skate. At the moment, I have no idea where my skates are, and I’m wondering how long I can claim I “can’t” find them.

Did I mention I’m moving? Maybe those skates will get lost in the move. I should be so lucky.

Back in January, I determined there is no room in the Year of YES for a derby girl dropout, but the prospect is becoming increasingly attractive. Every week, fewer and fewer girls show up, and everyone understands when a derby sister says, “I can’t roll with you girls anymore. I have to put my job/family/marriage/whatever first.”

I have seven kids. I’m not doing an excellent job of meeting the contract deadline for my cookbook. I just launched a new business. Did I mention I’m moving? If my mighty list of why-nots aren’t adequate, I also have The Foot.

The Foot is currently the bane of my existence, and the primary reason I’m finding all sorts of excuses not to skate.

Derby tracks turn left—always left. No one blows a whistle or announces over the loudspeaker, “It’s time for… reverse skate!” Sadly, like Derek Zoolander, I can’t turn left. For Derek, not being an ambi-turner meant losing runway contracts. For me it means wide, sloppy turns that make me a prime candidate for being forced off the track—or worse, rolling off it myself.

It’s all The Foot’s fault. My left foot turns inward at an angle so slight I lived 35 years before noticing it. Of course, I wasn’t on skates, with more protective gear than an NFL linebacker, trying to squat and navigate a hairpin on skates for even one second of those 35 years. When I roll forward, The Foot gradually “snowplows” into its straight counterpart on the right, ensuring I’ll learn to eat track. A lot of track.

I called my derby friend, Mia Feral, for advice. Mia suggested padding the inside of my skate to force The Foot into alignment, allowing me to skate in a straight line and “deftly leftly” cruise around the turns. Brilliant!

Sadly, The Foot didn’t buy it. Learning to eat track with a queen-sized pillow shoved into the front of my skate was neither fun nor effective. I tried loosening the front truck (it holds the front wheels in place) on my left skate to give my wheels a little more “play” and transferring my weight to the outside of The Foot, but only ended up with blisters and a bum ankle.

Now, I’m looking into structurally modifying my left skate by offsetting the plate (which holds the trucks in place) to the same degree as The Foot’s angle. That means drilling new holes in the bottom of my skate, and finding a huge protractor to stand on to measure The Foot’s degree of defiance. It will also mean a bit of drag when I skate, if I can skate at all, so I’ll be working my left leg harder than my right, which will probably give me a really interesting physique, in time.

I’m pretty much ready to quit. Except...

A couple weeks ago, I got a ride to the skating rink in Soap Lake with a young woman who had two canes propped in the back seat of her car. I didn’t ask any questions until my driver used those canes to make her way through the parking lot and into the rink. Readers, you know me—I’m a nosy mama. I asked my new friend what the deal was with the canes.

She had an inexplicable stroke last year. Her therapists were doubtful she’d walk again. Now, all she wants to know from her doctors is when she can SKATE.

There’s a reason our league motto is “Suck it up, Princess.” No matter what challenges I face with kids, moving, work, or The Foot, there will always be someone out there, showing me what it means to truly persevere. Now, I need to establish whether The Foot will simply defy me, or remarkably define me.

"Like" The Gonzo Mama on Facebook, and don't forget to see what's cooking with Sexy Vegan Mama today!

Finding My Skate Legs

Photo by Hayley of Hayley's Horror Hut

In case you haven’t heard, Wenatchee is starting a roller derby league. The Gonzo Mama can’t resist becoming a public spectacle, so I’ve signed up with Apple City Roller Derby.

The pre-registration packet said I’d need skates, insurance, and a commitment to learning a new sport. I love learning new things, and Obama’s cronies promised I’ll have health insurance. Riedell makes a vegan skate. (A bit pricey, no? Have I pointed out my PayPal donation button lately?) When I found out I’d be wearing hot pants and fishnet tights, it pretty much sealed the deal.

Nothing highlights cellulite like hot pants.



Did you know the nearest skating rink is in Soap Lake? Well, it is. I’m sure nothing pleased the proprietor more than the prospect of a herd of adult women in leg warmers descending upon the rink every weekend as they endeavored to find their “skate legs.”

Sure, we have some young ones – and by “young,” I mean under mid-thirties – but a large percentage of the girls are, well, like me. Thirtysomethings with kids, spouses or significant others, the occasional gray hair beneath the most recent application of L’Oreal, and some of us can even remember when all hair spray came in aerosol cans.

You know, girls who learned the facts of life by watching The Facts of Life.

Incidentally, I’ve noticed I’m beginning to get wrinkles around and under some of my facial features. I’ve also developed one deep crease between my eyes, which tells me I worry too much, and no wrinkles across my forehead, because nothing really surprises me at this point in my life.

The point of skating on weekends is not to learn the sport of roller derby, but to get us used to being on wheels. Not just wheels, but two-in-the-front and two-in-the-back wheels, because most of us were also alive for the inline skate revolution, but it’s really not the same. A lot of us haven’t been on quads in twenty years.

I assured myself of utter humiliation by taking my teenaged daughters to the first skate night I attended. Nothing makes you look like a stumbling old broad like being flanked by two agile teen girls who may as well have been born with wheels.

Nothing, that is, except a six-year-old dynamo who’s training for the national speed skating championship. This little tyke celebrated each corner by crouching down, grabbing her outside skate, and cornering on one foot. “Hey, that’s pretty cool,” I said. “Can you show me how to do that?”

The wee wheeler looked me up and down. “No... I don’t think so.”

For the rest of the night, she gave me the stare-down every time she turned a corner. I could read her thoughts: You can’t do it, you stumbling old broad!

Suddenly, I understood derby lust. That night, I learned what it really meant to want to send a girl home with rink rash. So what if she was only six? We’ve all gotta start somewhere.


"Like" The Gonzo Mama on Facebook, and don't forget to see what's cooking with Sexy Vegan Mama today!

Skating with the Apple City Roller Derby Girls

Photo by Hayley of Hayley's Horror Hut

So, here's a quick update on my Year of YES:


1. I jumped into the freezing waters of Lake Chelan during Winterfest 2011. Dunked my head and everything. It was raining. The beach was ankle-deep mud. It sucked. But - I did it!


2. I've been skating with the Apple City Roller Derby girls. We're currently traveling an hour-plus to the nearest roller rink, just to get used to being on wheels, because we don't have a rink in our 'hood. I don't totally suck on skates, but there are a lot of derby-specific moves and techniques I'll have to learn before taking the skills test to compete.


Did you know there's a skills test? Well, there is. And it's going to be hard, if my current skill level is any indication.


I haven't had any major wipe-outs. In fact, I haven't fallen once! Which is why, I think, I have a false sense of mastery.


Perhaps the best part of skating with the derby girls is the excuse to wear all the cute skirts I've been hoarding in my closet. (See photo.) Plus? I can totally get away with wearing leg warmers for no reason other than they're badass when paired with a short skirt.


The worst part is definitely wearing rental skates. Ugh. I changed skates four times last night before finding a pair that were moderately structurally sound, and that was before I started thinking about the potential for athlete's foot, toenail fungus and perhaps even hepatitis lurking inside the boots.


I must get my own skates. Pronto.


3. Stand-up comedy is still on my list. I'm thinking I still have about eleven months to make good on this, so I'm keeping my ears open for an open mic comedy night, but not aggressively pursuing it at this very moment. After all, I have a cookbook to write and fishnets to buy, right?


How are you all doing on your resolutions?


"Like" The Gonzo Mama on Facebook, and don't forget to see what's cooking with Sexy Vegan Mama today!

2011: My Year of YES

Photo source

If you’ve been meaning to ask me to do something crazy, this year might be a good time to present your request.

I’m not a risk-taker by nature and, in fact, I’m likely to find an excuse not to do anything that even begins to register on my Yikes-o-Meter. It’s not hard… I have seven kids. Seven kids can buy you a whole lot of “I’d love to, but…” It’s not honest, though, to say I choose “no” for any other reason than plain old fear.

Suggest any adventure, and I’ll give you a list of fearful reasons to avoid it: I could get hurt. I won’t have time. I would probably suck at it. I can’t make it work with my schedule, I have too much on my plate, I don’t know anything about it, my feet are too narrow, I’m too short, I’m too tall, too old, too young, it’ll affect my chances of getting elected if I ever decide to run for office, I’m vegan…

If that doesn’t cover it, I can think of some other reason.

Perhaps it was securing a promise of a new book contract over the Christmas 2010 holiday that got me so excited about 2011, but I woke up with just one resolution on January 1st: This is my Year of YES.

No excuses this year are allowed to keep me from doing something I want to, but am simply afraid to. So far, that means a promise to myself to jump into an icy lake at the Winterfest Splash, try roller derby, and make an attempt at stand-up comedy this year.

Who knows what else 2011 will bring?

Looking back, I realize I’ve done many, many fearless things – I just didn’t overthink them. I married at 18. I was a mom at 19, and before I knew it, I was a single mom. Then, I married a guy with four kids. I accidentally adopted two more. I launched a magazine without knowing the first thing about publishing. I published a book without knowing anything about marketing or distribution. I became a blogger when I didn’t know what a blog was.

Some of the biggest blessings and greatest successes in my life have stemmed from moments of (albeit thoughtless) fearlessness. This year, I’m making plenty of room at my mental table, because nothing is off the menu.

What have you always wanted to try, but instead passed up because of fear? What would your life look like if you committed to making 2011 your Year of YES? So far, my prospects look like blue lips (Winterfest Splash), black and blue thighs (roller derby), and marinara (do they really throw tomatoes at bad comediennes?).

I can’t wait!


"Like" The Gonzo Mama on Facebook, and don't forget to see what's cooking with Sexy Vegan Mama today!

I Really Need Your Help. It Might Even Be an Emergency. WIN a Copy of My Book, Too!

Photo source

I went to my first roller derby meeting last night. It was very eye-opening, and almost scary enough to make me say, "Sorry... I must've walked into the wrong meeting," and walk out. But not quite.

2011 is my Year of YES. (More on this in next week's column.) It means I'm saying yes to things that ultimately terrify me, but I know I can conquer.

One of those things is public speaking. I hate public speaking. In fact, in my high school speech class, I had to give a demonstration speech, and my hands were shaking so uncontrollably, I dropped all my props and failed the speech. My Speech grade left an ugly blemish on an otherwise stellar academic record. Well, that, and Wood Shop. Whatever.

Anyway, I walked into Mr. Editor's office at my home paper, the Lake Chelan Mirror, whining because someone was mean to me on Facebook. It's unremarkable that some people don't like me (and by "some people," I mean that one woman who really hates me), because I do tend to be a bit opinionated and often come across as pushy in written discussion. However, this particular (different than "that one woman who really hates me") woman attacked me over something I didn't even say, and nothing upsets me more than someone being upset over something they've only imagined about me.

I mean, good gosh - I beat myself up for my own imagined shortcomings enough, without other people inventing new ones to be ticked off at!

Anyway, Mr. Editor said exactly what I thought he'd say. He's always quoting a couple particular passages from the Epistle to the Romans (11:29 and 16:17), and paraphrasing it to "Don't let the haters get you down, Gonzo."

Then he said, "We're doing a podcast." Podcast? Really? The Gonzo Mama does NOT do podcasts. Then I remembered it's the Year of YES, and sucked it up and did it.

Here it is.

It didn't totally suck, so I guess I can do another one. As you can hear, I'm taking on some pretty scary things this year, like doing the Winterfest Splash, and joining roller derby.

Which brings me to my big problem.

I had the perfect roller derby name picked out ("Tawdry Hipburn"), but - I learned at the informational meeting - derby names are exclusive, and no two girls can have the same name. Or, it appears, even terribly similar names. There's already a Tawdry Hepburn and an Audrey Hipburn registered, so I'm out of luck.

I need you guys to give me a roller derby name!!!!!

I'm thinking something with "Gonzo" in it, or something that highlights my glorious veganism, like Gonzo Gladiator or Tofu Terrifier or something, but I'm totally open to suggestions. My goal is to take The Gonzo Mama, if I'm allowed, but I need a back-up name!

I'll take your comments here and on Facebook for the next few days, then put up a poll, and everyone can vote on it.

Aren't you excited? I'm taking you on this derby journey with me, in the hope you'll keep me accountable when I'm nursing a broken arm and want to quit.

Also? I need a busload of money for skates, equipment, insurance, dues and fishnet tights, which means I'll either have to take a part-time job or point excitedly to the donation button up at the top of my blog.

See the donation button? *points excitedly*

Don't forget to leave your suggestion for my derby name in the comments here or on Facebook! I'll have to run suggestions through the list of registered names, so if you don't see your suggestion in the final poll, it's because it was already registered or too similar to a registered name.

I'll send an autographed copy of my book, Everything I Need to Know About Motherhood I Learned from Animal House, to the suggester of the winning suggestion, and there's no limit on the number of names you can suggest, you suggesters, you... So get to it!

To clarify: The readers' favorite will win a book. MY favorite will win my heart! Just wanted to get that out there before everyone voted for "Fat Bottom Ghoul" and then wondered why I didn't adopt it as my own.




"Like" The Gonzo Mama on Facebook, and don't forget to see what's cooking with Sexy Vegan Mama today!