Way back in the 1970s, I stood at a fork in the road: should I go to college, or begin trudging down the path to a lifetime career? I did neither. Instead, I spent the winter teaching skiing at a popular ski resort just to get the adventure out of my system. As a full-time ski instructor, I taught two classes a day, each with twelve to fifteen students. That meant learning over a hundred new names a week… and remembering them. While other instructors caved into assigning deprecating monikers like, “Ms. Can’t Turn Left,” or “Mr. Sits Down When He Goes Too Fast,” I chose a more complimentary approach…
