Miscellaneous Outrage

Skiing Isn’t Epic: a discourse on discourse

~ TheGentlemanAtLarge ~ 3 Comments

“Oh, I think I get it,” my dad said. “They’re like cold surfers.”

It was the morning after Thanksgiving. The family had trickled down to the living room, each filled a cup of coffee, and filed in one by one behind me to partake in my favorite Thanksgiving tradition: drinking coffee and watching ski movies on YouTube.

“Cold surfers” he said. The implications were damning. Surfing is a helluva sport. It’s as challenging as it’s beautiful, and, in a lot of ways, shares an aesthetic with backcountry skiing. In each sport the putative reward occupies a small fraction of the time spent pursuing it; hours on the skintrack yield minutes of powder turns the way hours of paddling yield moments in the curl. In each case the purpose of the sport far transcends that fleeting rush, and happiness comes from the calm of the day.

TryHardClub (3 of 4)

Of course this isn’t at all what my dad was talking about. He was talking about this:

We sound like idiots.

Without detracting from some of the passionate conversations that we all have about skiing, there are a few words I’d like to expunge from the skier’s lexicon, so that we all might be taken a little bit more seriously in the future. Remember, you might have to talk about this at a cocktail party.

Epic – This one is a no brainer. The pow yesterday was not epic. The traffic on I-70 on Saturday is not epic. The 11k vert you hiked one day last winter was not epic, even though it was windy and your buddy was hungover and you had to break trail, like, the whole time. The word “epic” refers to stories of heros and gods that span decades and govern the fates of nations. Nothing you have ever done is epic. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.

Awesome – This one isn’t just misused by skiers, but I think we should carry the banner for relegating the word “awesome” to the fringes of discourse. To be in awe is to be agape with reverence and fear. To be struck dumb by wonder. Boot warmers are not awesome. Your new $500 hardshell is not awesome. The water cycle that makes it snow every year is actually pretty awesome, though, if you sit down and think about it.

Bro – Bro had a good run. I almost didn’t hate it for a while. It evoked the kinship of fraternité in the rhetoric of our time. One for all, all for one, bro. And then I spent a little time on the beach and guys I just met, otherwise intelligent, successful, articulate guys, kept calling me bro without a hint of irony. It was wrong. A cartoon. A caricature of solidarity. It’s time for bro to go. Also if you keep using it you’re just going to wind up getting ridiculed on Jezebel or something.

Sick – I never understood this one. When has sick been good? Is this supposed to be ironic? If so we should look past the work of Alanis Morisette for that definition, because it’s also wrong. The only way “sick” is a good thing is if you lie about being it to go skiing. Otherwise you’re just putting yourself in the same camp as these guys.

Fireball – I’d like to think that we’re all on the same page by now, but apparently that’s not the case. This word turns up most frequently as your jerk roommate is clamoring for a place at the bar après. Fireball? Really? What the hell, do you not watch Fox News? This shit is antifreeze. Stop drinking it.

fireball

I think I’ve covered the most egregious affronts to the skier’s image here, but if I’ve missed any, please don’t hesitate to chime in.

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Never Pay Retail

~ TheGentlemanAtLarge ~ 4 Comments

So I went to patronize one of my fine local sporting goods shops this week to buy a menial thing. I won’t say which store because this is going to be very embarrassing for them. I found the thing I was looking for on a shelf, and then brought it to the checkout lectern.

Behind the lectern stood a pimplefaced kid of about 22. He wore a flatbrim hat and a chain wallet. I tossed the thing onto the counter. He looked at it, scanned it, and then (and this is where it gets really embarrassing) he charged me retail. Full retail! For a thing at a store!

Here’s a picture of some things that I bought. Not at retail, of course. That’s for other people.

I was mortified. “Do you even know who I am, bro?” I was forced to ask. He stammered for a moment before answering that he did not. That left the messy business of explaining to him how rad I am, and that paying retail is for people who vacation in Aspen (and who use ‘vacation’ as a verb).

Didn’t he know that I always get deals on gear there? That I once didn’t get lapped in a competitive local cyclocross race? That I sometimes go skiing on weekends? That I maintain this very blog which has as many as dozens of occasional readers?

Now, I understand that these local businesses are, like, businesses. But I bring real value to their brand. When I ride my mountain bike at inappropriate speeds on walking trails and blow through red lights, I do it with their jersey on my back. When people ask me where I got my sweet new merino underthings, I tell them. I’m a brand ambassador. An advertising contractor.

I’ve got their sticker on my Rocket Box, for chrissake, and people around town see it.

Well, so I’ll tell you I let that pimplefaced kid have it. “I paid for a shirt with this store’s logo in it,” I told him, “and occasionally I wear it!” He was unmoved.

“Sometimes,” I went on, “when I need my bike tuned for Saturday, I have the courtesy to even bring it in Friday afternoon! I don’t even wait until Saturday morning to drop it off!” He remained unmoved.

It wasn’t until I was really huffing and puffing and a line started to form behind me that the young man behind the lectern applied my God given 10% discount and I was able to leave with my menial thing. All was right with the world again.

And so the moral of the story is here is not, of course, that you should ever pay retail at a local business (obviously). Especially not one who supports the local communities you value with partnerships and sponsorship. That would be insane! You just need to be more clear about how rad you are. Because if they’ve never heard of me, they’ve almost certainly never heard of you.

The Months of the Year, Ranked

~ TheGentlemanAtLarge ~ 13 Comments

“I like seasons,” the cliche goes. “I wouldn’t want everything to be the same all the time. It’s why I don’t live in Miami.”

I guess I can agree with the sentiment, or at least understand it. But to say that all seasons are created equal is categorically untrue. In order to help with the confusion, I’ve ranked the months of the year from best to worst.

October – When we say that we love the changing of the seasons, we’re not talking about sixteen daily hours of darkness in the beginning of winter. We’re not talking about freezing rain and icy roads in the spring; and we’re definitely not talking about sweltering, smokey afternoons  in July. We’re talking about the first nips of freezing air, of warm days and cold nights. Of golden larch and and anxious energy that comes with headlines like this. We’re talking about October. So throw on a sweater, grab a pumpkin spice latte, and go ride your mountain bike for a while. This is the best damn time of the year.

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Good ‘ol October. There’s a tent in there somewhere.

March – March was a close #2. The days are long, the weather is pleasant, and the snow keeps piling up. Everyone who’s not paying attention is chomping at the bit to go ride bikes, and the backcountry seems emptier than it ought to for having the best skiing of the year.

February – February is when ski season turns on. And really, skiing is one of, like, three or four things in life that are actually worth doing. February gets a minor demerits for hosting the worst holiday, but it makes up for it with the three day ski extravaganza known as Presidents’ Day.

Sweet, sweet February.

November – In November the short days are still novel and the cold mornings are invigorating. Thanksgiving kicks off the winter holiday season, and if we’re honest, beats the hell out of Christmas (I can’t speak to Hanukkah). If you’re lucky you might get a day or two of skiing in, and if you’re not you can still usually ride bikes. If you’re burned out on being outside, that’s fine too; November is a great time for catching up on your reading, dialing in the SEO for your website, or just drinking alone in the dark.

May – Boom! It’s couloir season. The sun’s out again, you can kind of go for mountain bike rides, and the steep snow is staying put. Also it’s my birthday, so . . .

Buddy Steve and Buddy Pagel working out the enigma of May couloir season.

September – September has a lot going for it. Historically I bet it was right up there with October. But frankly, that ship has sailed. September’s spending more time looking like August, and, well, we’ll talk about August later. Climate change is ruining September, and we have no one to blame but ourselves. No one but ourselves and whoever keeps electing Lamar Smith.

June – As far as enduring warm weather goes, June makes it pretty pleasant. It’s not too hot yet and the whole “summer” thing still feels fresh. Have a cookout. Go for a walk. Crack a Bud Light Lime. Enjoy the fact that it’s still not August.

April – I’m not really sure why April is so far down on the list. It feels like it should be up higher. The skiing is still good, and the road riding is coming into form (if you’re into that kind of thing). Some of the lower trails are even open. Maybe April is better than this?

I guess April isn’t all bad.

December – December would be worse if it wasn’t so much fun. It’s dark. It’s mysterious. The skiing is usually lousy but staggering from sweater party to sweater party kind of makes it worth it. Best month? Not by a long shot. Even a pretty good month? Not really. But at least it’s not August.

January – Meh.

July – July hurts my feelings because it should be so good. I remember lovely warm July evenings, chasing lightning bugs and playing Ghost in the Graveyard with kids from the block. I have such warm nostalgia for the month. But it’s been burning us recently, and I take that personally. If you want to call Lamar Smith (see September) and tell him that he’s ruining your childhood, you can reach him at his direct line: (202) 225-4236.

August – Let’s be real: Fuck August. August is the worst month. It’s hot. It’s smokey. The trails are dusty. Everyone around you seems to think that just because it’s sunny out you should somehow be in a good mood or something. F that. I hope August chokes on a pretzel.

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The Internet Is Decadent and Depraved

~ TheGentlemanAtLarge ~ 1 Comment

shitbitchbear

If you side with the camp that feels like Valentine’s Day is one of those little-man-behind-the-curtain kinds of systemic extortion that guys like Don Draper and Jack Donaghy came up with over afternoon scotch some time in the 50s, then we probably have a lot to talk about. I’m sure that Freud would have a field day sussing out the root of my strong opinions about the holiday shakedown, but it doesn’t seem so different from having a mugger force you to withdraw your limit from the ATM with a broken 40.

It just seems silly to me to further commercialize love and romance with a tradition where the break even cost outpaces Carter era inflation. This may be one of the reasons that I’m poor, but at the end of the day, I feel the way I feel.

And I feel that it’s stupid.

That doesn’t mean that the damned-if-you-don’t seriousness of the charade is lost on me (you don’t let the bum shiv you, right?).

Imagine for a moment that you were driving along one day and noticed that all of the sudden, 70-80% of the other drivers out there (but not all of them) began to stop at green lights and drive through the red ones. It’s not something that happened after some statute change or codified shift or anything like that, they just did it. All at once. As wrong as they all are, I bet it wouldn’t take too long for you to find yourself approaching intersections with caution.

That pretty much describes my approach to Valentine’s Day, so I called in a couple of weeks early and made a reservation at a nice restaurant for Saturday night.

But the Righteous Overseers had my back on this one and Girlfriend found herself out of town for a well timed bachelorette party. And having a supply of something for which there is an artificial demand (V-Day dinner reservation two days before V-Day), I decided to embrace the real spirit of the holiday and sell it on Craigslist.

At first it was just listed in the “Barter” section, but I also posted it under the heading that I suspect gets the most browsing: Missed Connections. Here’s what it said:

Well, you blew it.

You blew it last year, too. Remember? You knew this day was coming, you said you wouldn’t do it again, but then you did it.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and once again you’re going to find yourself in the dog house because you couldn’t get a reservation at the last minute and sneaking beers into 5 Guys only counts as a Valentine’s date the first time.

Well, I’m here to help. I happen to have a reservation for two at 8pm on Saturday night, at once of the finer spots in town: and it’s for sale.

Now while I’d probably take $20 and a fancy six pack for it, extorting money out of desperate men isn’t what Valentine’s Day is about (right?), and so short of that you may reply to this ad with a bit of poetry.

The best poem gets the reso, I’ll let you know Saturday morning if you’ve won it.

Pretty innocuous, right?

I figured I might get a reply. Maybe someone would get into it, but probably not. Most likely I’d wind up seeing if a friend wanted the reservation or wind up canceling it.

Instead I wound up getting a few desperate poems not fit for print, a 50 Shades reference or two, and a laundry list of dudes suggesting that we just have sex instead. And that was before it got flagged for removal for some reason.

After a precursory glance over the face shots and not-face shots of would be suitors I revisited the ad to see if I had unintentionally hinted that I was looking for something other than not wasting a reservation, or that I had perhaps clicked to allow unsolicited offers. Not the case.

What the hell, guys? Stop being sketchy.

This year my Valentine’s gift was yet another reminder that the internet is a strange, depraved place. If you’ve got a V-Day story that erodes your faith in humanity, feel free to commiserate in the comments.

Do the Thing.

~ TheGentlemanAtLarge ~ 3 Comments

It’s still January, and so while perhaps out of vogue  I think it’s still topical to talk about what I like to think of as one of our dumbest traditions. That New Year’s Eve is the shittiest holiday is well documented; it needs no further treatment here. I take offense instead at the annual pandemic of delusion that some folks like to call New Year’s Resolutions.

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Scott Fitzgerald gave us that “there are no second acts in American lives,” which, is pretty much what you’d expect to hear from a guy who spent his 20’s penning one of the finest examples of the English language and then drinking himself to death by 44. I certainly disagree with him, and don’t mean, by regarding New Year’s resolutions as the dumbest non-televised part of American culture, to disparage the notion that self improvement is possible or worthwhile. Instead I would look to Annie Dillard, who points out (what may be a tautology, engineers?) “that how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

I think that my distaste for the tradition can be summed up pretty fairly by an anecdote.

A guy I know was a smoker, and for reasons that will soon become clear I suspect that he still is. We worked together at a place that was sometimes emotionally trying, and I think that the habit started innocently as an excuse to sneak out into the quiet every hour or so. (I never picked up smoking, but did develop my own coping mechanism in which I would see how many dirty sounding but technically correct words I could sneak into official documents.) He insisted that he never smoked at home, and checked “non-smoker” on his health insurance. I think that he actually believed that he wasn’t addicted to cigarettes.

But some time in mid-December, he mentioned that he really aught to quit before it did become a habit, and let me know that his New Year’s Resolution would be to give up the cancer sticks once and for all.

“Why?” I asked him.
“Um, because they’re bad for you? And my wife would kill me if she knew.”
“Nono, why is that a New Year’s Resolution? Why not just quit now? Today? This afternoon. Here give me that pack. I’ll flush ’em.”

He recoiled and held that crumpled foil pack of Camel 1000s (or whatever) a little more dearly, and went on to explain that New Year’s Day (still weeks away) would be just fine, thank you very much.

New Year’s came and went, and well before MLK day, the guy was back out there sucking away, every hour on the hour, while I was inside still massaging correspondences to attorneys to make space for words like intercourse and ejaculate.

The point here, is that by focusing on the New Year or the ceremony of the Resolution, it takes focus away from the act, or series of acts, that form behavior. It’s a disturbance, a blip. And after a few days or weeks or even a month of adherence, once the day and the ceremony have passed, the behavior reverts to where it was. I drew a graph to help out:

chart

We should instead think of resolutions as inflection points in behavior, that are in no way required to ring in a new year and are certainly permissible on any of the other 364 days.

It’s easy (especially as a non-smoker) to look at my smoker friend and scoff, but if we’re honest with ourselves we all do the same thing. New Year’s Day being a few weeks away is not the only excuse to put put off addressing bad habits.

How often have you decided to cut back on eating out, as soon as you go to the grocery store and stock up? To start keeping a journal as soon as you get a few of the nice pens? Or to start exercising again tomorrow, because it’s already late and you just made dinner? Sure, maybe you went for a run today, but did you do all those stupid little exercises your PT prescribed?

Changing habitual behavior isn’t impossible, but it is hard work. Why not start right now?