Saturday, March 04, 2006

We don't have to breed. We can plant a house. We can build a tree. I don't even care, we could have all three.
She said.

That storm split. Half of it went North, dropping a foot on Kalispell and Glacier. The other half went South, and dumped on Jackson.

What did we get?

Bubkes.

But I still went snowboarding.

Had to.

It is my duty.

Yeah, well, the Dude abides.

I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes the finals.

On the way into the canyon, these guys were helicopter logging. There's something you don't see every day- a gi-normous orange helicopter, whilring and maneuvering along the mountainside, trailing a long cable with a log on the end.

It didn't exactly look steady, either. It was dipping and swerving in a very barfbag-worthy fashion.

Conditions were harsh. "Blustery" would be a fitting term.

The winds were gale-force at the top of the tram.



I saw something absolutely ridiculous today in the base lodge.



What is that, you ask?

Why, it is an oxygen bar, of course.

Those little things were bubblin' away like... uh... well, things that bubble.

And people stepped up and paid.

Money.

To breathe.

Air.



In other news, I de-laminated my board.

Right near the binding, the top layer buckled and cracked, and is pulling away from the sidewall.

Guess I shouldn't have torqued it so hard.

Screw that. It should be able to handle the force, regardless of my scary, retard-strength superpowers.

But you know what?

I gotta go again tomorrow.

Just because.

I've got the fever.

And the only prescription is more snowboarding.

I've got it bad.

That'll make it three consecutive days, a first for this season.

I was talking to my brother, T-Rex, the other day. We were talking about what we would do if we knew we were going to die and had a limited amount of time.

It was an interesting conversation, and a valuable, introspective examination of one's priorities. I truly miss hanging with T-Rex (and his lovely wife and kids- hi guys!). We had conversations like that almost every day. He is a born philosopher. It will be a good time when he visits in August.

Well, I got to thinking...

I think if I had a limited amount of time left, I'd be right here, doing exactly what I'm doing.

And, as Martha says, "It's a good thing."

On an entirely different note, I saw some bighorn sheep again today. And some mule deer. And a bald eagle.

You understand I am chasin' my breath
I am narrowly escapin' my death, oh yes
I am the Michael Schumacher of the Roc roster
Travellin Mach 5, barrelin' my power


Tomorrow is a big day for us. See, India loves the Oscars. She loves the red carpet. Loves to know who everyone is wearing. It stems back to her college days, when she and her friend, Kari, watched every awards show.

So, we're going to a party at her friends' house. They are film students (there are scads of them here... go figure), and they love the Oscars, too.

But tonight, we will watch Capote. Apparently, we have a black-market copy to watch, since it isn't out yet. Our tentacles extend deep into the shady underworld of Bozeman, Montana.


Walter Sobchak: You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don't wanna know about it, believe me.
The Dude: Yeah, but Walter...
Walter Sobchak: Hell, I can get you a toe by 3 o'clock this afternoon... with nail polish.

If I can manage to stay up past 10, we'll also watch Hustle and Flow. If I can manage it. Then we will have seen all the contenders. But the outlook is doubtful for me staying up past 10 p.m.

See, when I step out of that phone booth and have to use my retard strength superpowers, it leaves me drained and tired. Sometimes, I wake up in a strange town in tattered pants, shirtless, and I have no idea what happened.

Not even a tall, double Tiramisu latte can pull the nose up on that plane. It crashes into the mountain like a ton of bricks at about 9:45.

(Have you tried a Tiramisu latte? Better than crack, I'm telling you. Maybe that's a bad analogy, but they are pretty fucking good.)

Shoutout to Husker and the team formerly known as the Fat Bastards for knocking off the big boys last Wednesday. I miss playing with you guys.