The Esteemed Art of Synchronized Falling

(missing trapeze video would go here--we're having technical difficulties).

Our trapeze show was fantastic--due largely perhaps to the fact that I was not in it. Allyson says that I was excluded because she doesn't think I could pass for a Bedford Road student (it was the Bedford Road Talent show, not actually The Liz's Trapeze Show), but I figure it's because she's mad at me for dropping her so much. Allyson has a glass-half-empty attitude about being dropped--she fails to even acknowledge the fact that I hold on to her successfully way more often than I drop her.

The four trapezers in the video are:

Izzy: Izzy babysits my kids, and got recruited to trapeze on the grounds that she's really small and really light. Turns out that she's very good at it--very graceful, which is surprising because she can't walk ten feet without tripping on something and falling over. If there's nothing to trip on, she just falls over anyways. In the performance, however, as you can see, she doesn't have any accidents. Allyson points out that this is because SAM (Izzy's trapeze partner) doesn't drop people.

Allyson: Allyson is a perfectionist.

Mamoru: Mamoru came to Canada to learn English and has instead learned guitar, trapeze, and how to make a fantastic lemon pie. I figure this is okay--he can pick up English any time (hey, my three year old and five year old can do it--how hard can it be?). He has been doing trapeze for only eight months, and deserves a medal for being able to decipher all four of us yelling conflicting instructions in a foreign language.

Sam: Sam is Allyson's brother. He is brutishly strong and can do anything on the trapeze, which causes us to resent him. Or maybe we resent him because he sits in the pit and throws foam blocks at us while we are practicing.

Now trapeze is not something you should try at home. It is best attempted under the careful eye of a trained instructor, with regular practice on professional equipment. Unfortunately for these four, instead they have had only me, one night a week, using a bar that I made out of scrap metal and hockey tape, holding up my laptop featuring videos I found on youtube and yelling "Do this, do this" (or in the case of Mamoru, attempting to meet him halfway by declaring in Japanese "Corewa ee desu. Kudasai. Mecha Kowai. Hidori Migi" and gesturing wildly). On the bright side, we have a foam pit to practice over, which is way safer than when we were working off a tree in the park and the only padding we had was that inflatable mat with "not suitable for use as safety equipment" written on the side. Also, when we were in the park, the only think Sam could find to throw at us was sticks, and Izzy kept getting distracted by wondering whether the boys biking by were "cute old" (as in 17 or so) or "old old" (as in 18 or over).

A disadvantage of relying on YouTube is that we have no idea what any of the tricks are called. This results in us referring to them by whatever names seem logical to us, such as "super painful move", "move Izzy was right about", "canning Sam move", "lap dance trick" (really, when you see it, you'll recognize it), and "move Sam can't do". In the case of Move Sam Can't Do, Sam has been arguing that since I've dropped Allyson twice now, the name should be changed to "move that neither Sam nor Liz can do".

As those of you who know me will already be aware, when I tell a story it is usually filled with "exaggeration". Move Sam Can't Do isn't really "Move Sam Can't Do" so much as it is "Move Izzy Won't Let Sam Try Because Liz Keeps Dropping Allyson Whenever They Try It". Actually, all this talk about making Allyson mad by dropping her is exaggerated as well--Allyson is actually very understanding about being dropped. And I don't so much let go of her, exactly... I more let go of the trapeze. Which results in a similar feeling of, um, weightlessness, but it's not quite the same. I like to think that Allyson is comforted by a pleasant feeling of solidarity, knowing that I am falling with her. Or, more accurately, on her. Also, my claim to sympathy is even more valid than hers, because she is way bonier than the "not suitable for use as safety equipment" mat. So, really, my landing is way less comfortable than hers.

I am exaggerating the risks, of course. In fact, the closest we've ever come to real injury wasn't while practicing "Move Nobody Seems to Be Able To Do" at all (a move we deemed too risky to put in the show because we might fall. We saved it for the encore. And we fell). The only moment I was truly afraid that we'd end up with serious injury was when, during the show, Allyson's dad (think strong like Sam but about nine feet tall and very protective) realized exactly what we do at trapeze. He was particularly impressed not only with "Kamikaze Move Nobody Seems to Be Able to Do" but also with "Lap Dance Trick" and "Butt in Face Move". I tried calm him down by pointing out that for the show we used a mat that is intended for use as safety equipment, but he still seemed a little, um, grouchy. It didn't help that Allyson's teacher (a woman who is clearly high on creativity and bravery but not so much with the discretion) chose that evening to invent "Flip That Ends in Faceplant Inches From Edge of Mat"...

They say running is great cross training.