when is OK to skip practice?

This one was my call. In the middle of FRI afternoon errands, AFTER I had agreed to take another skater home from practice for a conflicted dad, my gut strongly told me to opt out of practice. It was so counterintuitive that I started calling trusted friends and family to help me sound out the logic to either reinforce the decision or talk me out of it. Here were the options as of 3pm Friday:

1) Go to practice. Simplify a breakout drill. Get the defenseman to sprint down and retrieve a puck from the goalie, swerve behind the net and come out firing to a wing at the hashmarks who has just skated hard to put his butt on the boards, who in turn would pass to the center who had dashed down low and arced towards the puck. Etc, etc. I would then five a ride back to Brian, and then pick up my middle school son for a quick bite.

2) Make the calls necessary to head coach Steve, Brian's Dad, talk to the boys Mom, and take two bikes to my appartment. We would partake in the monthly city of Morristown bike tour and then go to a community gathering for a showing of the classic biking film "Breaking Away".

Going to practice would be the responsible thing to do; Doing the family bike tour would include two sones, not one on a visitation weekend. My Mom was the only one reachable, and she said there would be countless practices, and this bike tour sounded like a ton of fun for father and sons (say that with a little rhythm!) and boom! it was done.

Call to parent...it was OK. Call to coach...it was OK. Logistics were a bit challenging, but we somehow managed to squeeze 3 people and two bikes into the Prius for the 15 minute drive to my appartment. and the adventure was on.

The 5 mile ride to the Morristown starting line was the biggest hurdle; the boys were used to urban biking, figuring out when to ride in the street and when to ride the sidewalks, how to deal with pedestrians and cars etc. But by the time dusk arrived we were part of a group of at least 50 bikes cruising around the Morristown Green at least four times. I stopped for a menu from a pizza place, so we wouldn't starve. The three of us shared something new, and physical, and we were all part of a human group endeavor that was green and peaceful and all those good things. There were teenage tricksters, guys who liked to bounce and jump and spin and ride dangerously in traffic, you know, kids a little too cool and too dangerous who were part of the Friday night pedal parade. They were the foil to our playing it straight, but it gave us something to think about, and even though their behavior couldn't be condone, they sure were having FUN!

The final stage was at a delightful community garden, an urban dump site that had been reclaimed by some industrious citizens (until a developer comes along), cleaned up , and is now a source of pride and nourishment for the city. We learned all about it in a20 minute documentary that followed the live rock music (good guitars and harmonies) and the feature film projected onto a king size sheet hanging in the back of the garden.

I lay down in some wild grass, knowing the food was coming, the stars were blinking, the moon was smiling and my sons on either side of me were learning the joys of planting real food surrounded by a community of peace and love...not a typical Friday.

Completing the night safely required that I bike home in the dark, trade my bike for my car, return for the middle act of the film, lock up Tom's clunker and return Ted and his bike to Mountain Lakes, and then get back to the appartment with Tom for his early travel hockey. Ted would sleep at his home so he could get up for his early cross country.

But we had shared a special night, an evening that required blowing off an important practice. OK readers, time to weigh in with your opinion...please comment!