Thanks Uncle Dave. Great insight. Excuse me while I join the pontification!
I started snowboarding when I was 13 back in the early 90s. It consumed me from the first moment I saw those unearthly moves to the tune of No Use For A Name on Mack Dawg's "Upping the Ante." I bought a 136 Burton Elite in the fall and when the first snow fell I made my little brother push me around our flat lawn on an inch of dust. I hiked the local sledding hill in my Sorels until I could drive, and then I hiked the local resort until I got a job and could pay for lift passes. When we got to ride actual chair lifts, we would ride as long and hard as possible, to the point where I sometimes went into fatigue-induced, fevered hallucinations all night after. I scoured the clearance section every year, slowly upgrading from board to board and one day even getting real snowboard boots and some outerwear with DWR. I paid for my bachelors degree by waxing boards and skis at the local shop, helping kids avoid all the purchase mistakes and stance failures that I learned the hard way. I worked my class schedule around free mornings for maximum powder day potential and learned how slow I was by following really fast skiers in the side-country. I courted my wife on the chair lift and took her to the annual on-snow demo for valentines day, and this past winter I had the distinct pleasure of driving my firstborn daughter crazy as I tried to teach her how to snowboard.
I'm thoroughly average, but I really love snowboarding. And I watch the Olympics and have very mixed feelings. On one hand I'm just in awe of what these people can do. On the other, I sit there and can't figure out why I feel so blasé while watching the pinnacle of snowboarding ability. The Olympics has a way of sucking the soul and stoke out of everything. It's so clinical. Paint by numbers. All the artistry and creativity set aside as athletes attempt to complete the movements that the judges have deemed essential. I know I sound like an entitled old codger. That's because I am. I have no ownership in snowboarding and snowboarding doesn't owe me anything. But it feels like I do and it feels like snowboarding does. I guess I just need to appreciate the Olympics for what they are, and then watch some old Mack Dawg. I mean, it's still way better than being stuck watching ice dancing every night.
PS love me some Snuff. Guns N' Wankers (ex Snuff) showed up on The Young and the Restless, another one of my favorite old snowboard movies.
Feb. 21, 2018, 7:19 a.m. - Brigham_Rupp
Thanks Uncle Dave. Great insight. Excuse me while I join the pontification! I started snowboarding when I was 13 back in the early 90s. It consumed me from the first moment I saw those unearthly moves to the tune of No Use For A Name on Mack Dawg's "Upping the Ante." I bought a 136 Burton Elite in the fall and when the first snow fell I made my little brother push me around our flat lawn on an inch of dust. I hiked the local sledding hill in my Sorels until I could drive, and then I hiked the local resort until I got a job and could pay for lift passes. When we got to ride actual chair lifts, we would ride as long and hard as possible, to the point where I sometimes went into fatigue-induced, fevered hallucinations all night after. I scoured the clearance section every year, slowly upgrading from board to board and one day even getting real snowboard boots and some outerwear with DWR. I paid for my bachelors degree by waxing boards and skis at the local shop, helping kids avoid all the purchase mistakes and stance failures that I learned the hard way. I worked my class schedule around free mornings for maximum powder day potential and learned how slow I was by following really fast skiers in the side-country. I courted my wife on the chair lift and took her to the annual on-snow demo for valentines day, and this past winter I had the distinct pleasure of driving my firstborn daughter crazy as I tried to teach her how to snowboard. I'm thoroughly average, but I really love snowboarding. And I watch the Olympics and have very mixed feelings. On one hand I'm just in awe of what these people can do. On the other, I sit there and can't figure out why I feel so blasé while watching the pinnacle of snowboarding ability. The Olympics has a way of sucking the soul and stoke out of everything. It's so clinical. Paint by numbers. All the artistry and creativity set aside as athletes attempt to complete the movements that the judges have deemed essential. I know I sound like an entitled old codger. That's because I am. I have no ownership in snowboarding and snowboarding doesn't owe me anything. But it feels like I do and it feels like snowboarding does. I guess I just need to appreciate the Olympics for what they are, and then watch some old Mack Dawg. I mean, it's still way better than being stuck watching ice dancing every night. PS love me some Snuff. Guns N' Wankers (ex Snuff) showed up on The Young and the Restless, another one of my favorite old snowboard movies.