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The Slice

Wed., Oct. 31, 2012, 11:15 a.m.


Walked over to Riverfront Park to purchase my Ice Palace season pass and go for a quick skate.

There were about 15,000 kids there, give or take a few.

Think squealing, laughing and kid-voice chortles. Did I mention squealing?

I'm always pleased to see the rink supported. But sharing the ice with erratic hordes of children doesn't lend itself to quiet contemplation and reverie.

Still, I laced 'em up and hopped on for a few minutes. Because it is so warm, the ice was tacky. But I got to see the colorful new curling circles. And there were other compensations.

"I haven't ice skated in years," said a little girl to a friend who had the decency to not point out that the speaker had not been ALIVE for all that many years.

And then there was the classic wide-eyed expression of terror-skating kids teetering on the edge of falling 100 percent of the time.

On my way out, I saw another adult weekday regular from years past.

"Hello," I said from just a few feet away. "Hello!"

She didn't hear me. Too much background noise.

On my way back to the paper, about a dozen geese flew low over me and elegantly slid into the river near the carrousel. Their water-landings couldn't have been smoother. Still, there was a soft whoosh and splash.

If by some remote chance you were involved in the creation of Riverfront Park, I want to say something to you.


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The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.