I love rock climbing. The first time my sister Heather took me when I was twelve, I admit that I got so scared that I cried a little, but other than that we've been in love. (Save the day that I threw my glasses down at Jenny while climbing that beastly red 10b at the Quarry. Sorry, Jen. Kinda stupid too, considering that I couldn't see the rest of the holds and had to come down anyways. Tard.)
Nowadays, Preston and I like to climb at the Quincy Quarries, which doubles in purpose as a climbing venue, a graffiti museum, a hooligan hangout, and a body dumping ground for the mob. I kid, I kid! We haven't seen hooligans in weeks. But honestly, the graffiti there is exquisite, the finest that Massachusetts' troubled youth has to offer. Ah, were I not bound by a slightly myopic respect for the law...I could've been a Borf.
Anyways, the other day we took some friends climbing for the first time. While walking there, poor Camilla busted up her foot (a beautiful war wound, I might add, complete with bruise) and had to put her first climbing experience on hold. However, Victor was undeterred and attacked his first climb with gusto and grace, which we applauded from below. Along the particular route we climbed, someone had painted a huge, green goblin face. This, of course, made coaching moves from below a little easier:
"Yeah, get your foot up by the left ear! Match on the eyebrow!"
(Dr. Preston's beta (coaching) was sometimes a little harder to follow:)
"Okay, there's a hold right by the goblin's tooth...not the bicuspid, the incisor! Go for the incisor!!"
In addition, above the goblin and to the left, someone had written the phrase LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL; a fine sentiment, seeing as how it was very near the end of the route. As Victor was climbing, Preston coached him along, saying: "Okay, just move past the goblin's hat, over to the right. Get your feet up, trust your hands and move over to where 'life is beautiful'." Victor made it to the top, admired the vista that the quarry has to offer and then came back down. As he looked up and over the climb he just did, he noticed the graffiti and laughed: "Move over to where life is beautiful, I get it! I thought you were just speaking metaphorically!"
And that, my friends, was the longest possibly way I could've told that story. Thank you and good night. We'll be handing out time refunds at the door.