(Not) On Thin Ice

So Kathleen and I went to the skating party.
Neither of us actually skated – Kathleen doesn’t know how, and I haven’t skated in probably close to 20 years.
When I was a kid there was a local community recreation building – known most commonly simply as “The Building” – which in the non-winter months was used for things like basketball and roller skating, and in the winter was frozen over and used for ice skating and hockey.
And yes, I did play hockey. I was a decent goalie, as my head would naturally draw any slapshots straight toward it.
Of course, it’s worth mentioning that my brother Stuart was one of the few people who could actually manage a decent slapshot, and, if he was on the opposing team, he generally aimed them for my head anyway, so my cranial magnetism was kind of irrelevant.
For the record, even a soft puck can hurt if it hits you hard enough.
Lacking natural grace, I was never a terribly skillful skater, but I could at least manage to remain upright most of the time.
I remember one night of skating in which we were playing “It” or, if you prefer, “Tag,” which is considerably more challenging on ice skates, and all of the other kids decided to gang up on me to insure that I was always “it.” Little did I know that it was the pale harbinger of torments to come.
Anyway, tonight’s outing did not involve breahtlessly chasing after my cruel and vicious peers in an effort to no longer be it, but it was kind of marred by the fact that it was cold and rainy and that it was held at an outdoor rink.
We talked to David, of course, and a few other people, but for much of it we were standing sort of off to the side near the hot cocoa and cookies. Eventually we moved over to where other people were standing after Kathleen said that we looked like we were anti-social. I pointed out that we are anti-social, but we still moved over anyway.
We hung out long enough for the raffle drawing. Kathleen actually won one of the prizes.
Even though it was his party, David didn’t seem to know what the prizes actually were. When Kathleen told him it was a gift certificate he asked how much it was for and said, “That’s so cheap!” when she told him.
He asked if I was going to write about that here. I told him that I pretty much had to.
In introducing me to a few people he talked up my talent and Heroic Portraits, saying that I could probably make a living off of that alone. When I pointed out that I’ve never had any actual customers, he said that it’s because I don’t market it. Kathleen agreed.
When we were leaving, he asked if I was serious about wanting to develop Heroic Portraits.
Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, sure, it’d be cool, I guess, but the one problem I foresee is dealing with unsatisfied customers, in particular people who would give me the vaguest description of what I want, then complain when I failed to bring their vision to life.
It would be kind of difficult to keep from responding to any complaints with an angry “Draw your own damn portrait then!”
Kathleen suggested some strategies for dealing with that sort of thing.
The biggest problem with marketing the site, though, is that it sucks. I don’t really want people to go there because I know they won’t be impressed, and I just don’t seem to have the wherewithal to make it any better.
Anyway, the point is that it’s a question I’ve asked myself and I’m just not sure what the answer is.
But that was my big adventure out in the world.