The Bomber and I took an afternoon off skiing last week for a taste of snowboarding.
You haven't lived until you've had an Italian boarding instructor called Mohammad screaming in public that your pelvis is wrong.
I was pathetic, while the son and heir glided effortlessly down resembling nothing so much as Rio's Christ the Redeemer statue in elegant motion.
My theory is that by drilling new motor skills like this into middle age I can benefit from brain plasticity even if it is at the cost of bruised body rigidity the next day.
I hope to give it a better shot next year.