Hooping Category
Hooping. Yes. As in HULA HOOPING, but with bigger, custom-made hoops. I wrote so much on Electrolicious about hooping that it got ridiculous, and so some friends and I got together and started up hooping.org. That’s where you can find most of my hoop talk, now.
Interesting hoop trivia: in general, right-handed hoopers spin counter-clockwise, lefties clockwise.
In other hoop news, I had a frightening experience yesterday. A guy ran up to me in the desert and asked if he could play with my hoop. I’d been loaning it out all morning, and was happy to pass it off to him. Then, while I talked to a young woman from San Diego who was sucking on a pacifier, the dude proceeded to dance around with my hoop — but not spinning around his waist. Rather, he just held it tightly in his hands and roughly thrashed it around his waist and head, pressing it into an oval while doing so. Eventually, my only child sensibilities took over and I had to interrupt my conversation with a cry of, “Holy shit! He’s totally warping it!” Then I stormed over and demand that the abuser give me my goddamn toy back before he completely broke it. Is it any wonder I’m selfish when the other kids do bad things to my favorite toy?
After doing a showy “I think this is funny” hoop-dismount, the man handed my hoop back. It was bent into an oval, and the coupler had been loosened. I smiled thank you, then walked away grumbling to find some duct tape, secure the seam, and gently bend the hoop back into a semi-circular shape.
Then, last night, I had a dream that the dude had actually broken my hoop. Obviously, I was deeply disturbed by the experience.
Differences, In Third Person.
11
Aug
2002
In: Hooping
The mother sits on the soil next to a small campfire, admiring the gorgeous alpine lake beneath the knoll she’s camped on. She meditates and muses about how thankful she is to be there. She breathes deep, and sighs contentedly. She waves her hand gently around her head, thanking even the swarms of mosquitos around her: they keep her mindful. She takes another sip of her tea and breaths deep again.
Near-by, her daughter is gyrating. She grabs the hoop around her waist, flips it over her wrist and lifts it skyward in an attempt to get it over her head. She miscalculates the size of her own head, however, and hits the back of her skull with the hoop, knocking her off her balance. “I almost got it,” she mutters, as she picks up the hoop, rubbing the back of her head with her free hand. She makes loud animal-like snarling noises at the mosquitos and tosses the hoop around her waist again. “The movement seems to keep the damn blood suckers away,” she thinks, admiring the gorgeous alpine lake beneath the knoll she’s camped on. She grabs the hoop and flips it over her head.
“I DID IT!” she hollars, disturbing many quiet fish in the lake below.
Her mother sighs. “I think hula hooping might be a good outlet for your energy, Air,” she laughs.
The Hoop Poop
8
Aug
2002
In: Hooping
Last night I went and traded dinner and drinks for a homemade customized hula hoop almost five feet in diameter. My friend Holly gave me a “fitting,” where she brought a bunch of hoops she’d made out into her yard, and I “tried on” each one to see which felt the best. I ended up selecting one of her fatter hoops (thick tubing) in the largest diameter she had — big enough so that when I put it over my shoulder to carry it, it only clears the ground by a couple inches.
While fiddling with all those big huge hoops, I tried a couple little tricks just to see how badly I would fail, and realized that my little hoops have left me at a strange advantage: they rotate so fast that by comparison the big hoop almost seems like it’s going in slow motion. That meant that I was able to pop a shoulder underneath the hoop, get it up around my neck, and then grab it and swing it over my head all in one relatively graceful swoop! Amazing! I still, however, could not get it back down from my hand…the hoop whacks into my face, where my geeko-specs get in the way. I knocked them off a couple times (inducing that lovely “I dropped my cafeteria tray” feeling), but was undeterred. Bigger hoops rock. And now I have one of my own!
This weekend Jolayne introduced me to hooping as a form of dance. I’d seen it done before (most recently just last weekend), and know it’s a burgeoning dance form in San Francisco and Los Angeles, but I’d never actually given it a shot. I think it is my new obsessive hobby.
[Update from 2003: Oh dear. How right I was.]
Interesting hoop trivia: in general, right-handed hoopers spin counter-clockwise, lefties clockwise.
In other hoop news, I had a frightening experience yesterday. A guy ran up to me in the desert and asked if he could play with my hoop. I’d been loaning it out all morning, and was happy to pass it off to him. Then, while I talked to a young woman from San Diego who was sucking on a pacifier, the dude proceeded to dance around with my hoop — but not spinning around his waist. Rather, he just held it tightly in his hands and roughly thrashed it around his waist and head, pressing it into an oval while doing so. Eventually, my only child sensibilities took over and I had to interrupt my conversation with a cry of, “Holy shit! He’s totally warping it!” Then I stormed over and demand that the abuser give me my goddamn toy back before he completely broke it. Is it any wonder I’m selfish when the other kids do bad things to my favorite toy?
After doing a showy “I think this is funny” hoop-dismount, the man handed my hoop back. It was bent into an oval, and the coupler had been loosened. I smiled thank you, then walked away grumbling to find some duct tape, secure the seam, and gently bend the hoop back into a semi-circular shape.
Then, last night, I had a dream that the dude had actually broken my hoop. Obviously, I was deeply disturbed by the experience.
Differences, In Third Person.
11 Aug 2002 In: HoopingThe mother sits on the soil next to a small campfire, admiring the gorgeous alpine lake beneath the knoll she’s camped on. She meditates and muses about how thankful she is to be there. She breathes deep, and sighs contentedly. She waves her hand gently around her head, thanking even the swarms of mosquitos around her: they keep her mindful. She takes another sip of her tea and breaths deep again.
Near-by, her daughter is gyrating. She grabs the hoop around her waist, flips it over her wrist and lifts it skyward in an attempt to get it over her head. She miscalculates the size of her own head, however, and hits the back of her skull with the hoop, knocking her off her balance. “I almost got it,” she mutters, as she picks up the hoop, rubbing the back of her head with her free hand. She makes loud animal-like snarling noises at the mosquitos and tosses the hoop around her waist again. “The movement seems to keep the damn blood suckers away,” she thinks, admiring the gorgeous alpine lake beneath the knoll she’s camped on. She grabs the hoop and flips it over her head.
“I DID IT!” she hollars, disturbing many quiet fish in the lake below.
Her mother sighs. “I think hula hooping might be a good outlet for your energy, Air,” she laughs.
The Hoop Poop
8 Aug 2002 In: HoopingLast night I went and traded dinner and drinks for a homemade customized hula hoop almost five feet in diameter. My friend Holly gave me a “fitting,” where she brought a bunch of hoops she’d made out into her yard, and I “tried on” each one to see which felt the best. I ended up selecting one of her fatter hoops (thick tubing) in the largest diameter she had — big enough so that when I put it over my shoulder to carry it, it only clears the ground by a couple inches.
While fiddling with all those big huge hoops, I tried a couple little tricks just to see how badly I would fail, and realized that my little hoops have left me at a strange advantage: they rotate so fast that by comparison the big hoop almost seems like it’s going in slow motion. That meant that I was able to pop a shoulder underneath the hoop, get it up around my neck, and then grab it and swing it over my head all in one relatively graceful swoop! Amazing! I still, however, could not get it back down from my hand…the hoop whacks into my face, where my geeko-specs get in the way. I knocked them off a couple times (inducing that lovely “I dropped my cafeteria tray” feeling), but was undeterred. Bigger hoops rock. And now I have one of my own!
This weekend Jolayne introduced me to hooping as a form of dance. I’d seen it done before (most recently just last weekend), and know it’s a burgeoning dance form in San Francisco and Los Angeles, but I’d never actually given it a shot. I think it is my new obsessive hobby.
[Update from 2003: Oh dear. How right I was.]
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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