Hoop! There it is

I bested all comers Saturday morning and please allow neither the nature of the sport nor the size of the competitor to lessen your enthusiasm for my accomplishment.

Aww, thank you. Thank you very much.

And, should you be inclined to challenge me some day, let me issue you this fair warning: hula hooping requires a more specialized range of abilities than you might imagine.

Oh sure, there are the hips, but anyone who’s jutted one out to rest a squalling infant can master that. That warrior stance may look intimidating, but it’s really just the same position an ordinary launderer takes to snap a king size fitted sheet and then fold it into submission.

The real test of the skilled hula hooper lies in the posture and this is something I mastered long ago. Shoulders back, spine straight, head high, eyes forward — these are the keys to the hula master and, frankly, the same skill set that allows a mother to purchase a jock strap or an extra long size O pair of jeans, which so clearly are not for her, with dignity.

I call upon these skills every day of my life.

So, there I stood amidst the brisk, celebratory traffic of a Farmer’s Market Opening Day, eyes intentionally focused away from my tiny, oblivious competitors, ears deaf to the screeching of the disturbingly enthusiastic saleswomen “Faster! Faster!” and body turned away from the assembling crowd, hooping away.

Poor Molly vacillated between utter mortification and intense desire to digitally capture my shame/triumph, depending on your perspective.

In the end, I bought the hula hoop and I intend to use it every day. I’m not sure I also bought our saleswoman’s charming claims that it will lessen belly fat (a general benefit I’m sure, but one she failed to point out to the parents of my knee-high competitors).

I just think the hula hoop is fun.

A crowd gathers to my right, tiny/bored competitors drop off to my right, a sales woman/drill sargent barks out orders ahead of me and still I hula on. I bought a lovely, silver ands blue model and proudly carried it through the market earning a , "what are you, five-years old?" from my 14-year old daughter.
A crowd gathers to my right, tiny/bored competitors drop off to my right, a sales woman/drill sargeant barks out orders ahead of me and still I hula on. I bought a lovely, silver and blue model and proudly carried it through the market earning a , “what are you, five-years old?” from my 14-year old daughter.
So, now we own the thing and I encourage its use. Here we have Grandma Peggy giving it a spin...
So, now we own the thing and I encourage its use. Here we have Grandma Peggy giving it a spin…
Grandma Peggy rocked the hoop.
…and, naturally, Grandma Peggy rocked the hoop.
My little peanut niece Erin gave it a whirl, though it was way too big for her. We are now three generations of hula hoopers.
My little peanut niece Erin gave it a whirl, though it was way too big for her. We are now three generations of hula hoopers.
As it turns out, there are lots of  ways to use a hula hoop. Great fun!
As it turns out, there are lots of ways to use a hula hoop. Great fun!

3 thoughts on “Hoop! There it is

  1. Congratulations on your hoop skills. I love the way you tell the story.
    I joined a gym a few years ago and they had a few hoops in the center of the floor. Well, I was great at it as a kid and figured it must be like riding a bike, you never forget. I spun one around my waist quite successfully. Then, being over-confident, I decided to twirl one around my neck like I did 50 years ago. It made a few rotations and then took off through the air like a flying guillotine, narrowly missing an innocent bystander using a stair climber. Instead of thinking I was funny, she got royally P’d off. I did not make a good first impression.

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