S's brother R. is older than her and likes to snowboard. I was talking to their father, A., when R. floated past and I saw something that took me back to when I too rode the slopes: R's mass of passes.
That's how it worked in those days: you gave the ski hill operator $20 and in return you were given a sticker and a triangular clip to stick it to.
When I asked A. what a daily lift pass goes for today, I was shocked. But then, what I wouldn't pay to have back my mass of passes, which hung from the orange and blue David S. Reid ski jacket I outgrew and was given to another kid in the neighbourhood who promptly cut off the passes because he was too cool to be seen skiing. As if what's lacking says as much. Which, as it turns out, can be true.
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