It’s hard to strike a macho pose dressed in clown pants after a round of golf, much less tighty-whitey tennis shorts (“I was lucky to live through that doubles match”). But skiing is the real thing. You could get hurt out there. It takes courage, like hunting Cape buffalo. (And-a bonus-at cocktail hour you aren’t covered in big-game gore, the way you are après-buffalo-hunting.) Never mind that I’ve spent the day on Cottontail Trail. It’s one of my life dreams to rename all the world’s beginner slopes: Bodycast Notch, Mogul Morgue, Mt. Kevorkian, Devil’s Buttcrack, Cher’s Revenge, etc.