Friday, April 14, 2006

All the static, in my attic-a
Shoots down my sciatic nerve
To the ocean of my platitudes, longitudes, latitudes, it's so absurd

'Cause I'll stop trying to make a difference
I'm not trying to make a difference
I'll stop trying to make a difference
No way
No way, no way
Let's call in an angel
Who's calling an angel?


Howdy, y'all.

Happy Good Friday.

Or is it "have a Good Friday?"

"Have a good Good Friday?"

"Merry Good Friday?"

Or just "Good Friday," just like "Good Morning?"

Whatevs, it was a Good Friday.

A Good Friday to go snowboarding, anyway.

I mean, Christ already died for my sins, so why not go boarding?



He would have gone boarding.

He would have waxed His board and got His proper swerve on.

Damn straight.

Currently, skies are clear in Bozeman, and there is no sign of any imminent lightning strikes.

So I drove down to Big Sky.

At the turn, I stopped at my favorite Latte Shack for a latte and an everything bagel with chive cream cheese.

My breath made my eyes water.

It was that good.

So, I drive off, eating my bagel, kickin' it to some Block Rockin' Beats.

I finish my bagel and move on to the latte, swervin' & curvin' the last 9 miles up to the hill.

I came around a curve and almost hit a Ginormous, Humongous, Fucking Huge Bull Moose.

It was the biggest moose I have ever seen.

I almost felt like I could have driven under him, if his legs had been a little farther apart.

I would guess he was about 1000+ pounds, and he stood over 8 feet tall. The antler spread on his rack was probably 5 feet... but he is still probably growing those back from the fall/winter antler shed.

I'm not shitting you.

He was standing right there in the road.

It was pretty much empty.

I dialed in the iPod, put it on "shuffle songs," and let it choose from the 4500+ songs on it's teensy, weensy little hard drive.

Left my shades in the car, and I was too lazy to walk back, so I threw down a Hamilton at the base for another pair.

Y'know, Big Sky is an incredibly gorgeous place.

And I had it all to myself.

This late in the spring, there is really only a 3 or 4 hour window where the snow is skiable. If you time it right (from about 10:30- 2:30), you ride on the creamiest, crisco, corn snow.

The tram was closed because it was pretty windy up there, and I am sure the snow was an impossible crust of frozen mashed potato chicken heads. Yes, that sounds weird, but imagine trying to carve turns on ice frozen mashed potato chicken heads.


That's askin' for trouble.

Tomorrow, I am going to go back up again.

They are having a "pond skim," where you cruise down on skis or a board and try to waterski across a snow pond.

(No, I will not be participating. Jesus wouldn't have, either.)

Plus a local band, Illsauce, is playing.

That ^^^ says "Infinite Ride." It is on my board.

Really, isn't that what were all looking for out of life?

An Infinite Ride?

I know I am.

Maybe that's what happens when we die.

I get to ride on a chair with J.C. and J.C. (Jesus Christ and Johnny Cash). We shoot the shit all the way up the lift; both J.C.'s answer all my questions; we rip down corn snow, bouncin' and bumpin'.

There's no tourists or idiots. In fact, nobody else is skiing except for J.C. and me and J.C.

An iPod is unecessary because somehow Johnny can ski and play and sing, and John Lennon and Jimi and Jim and George and Kurt and Layne and Biggie and all the late greats, just set up all over the hill, just rocking away.

And I just get to ride and ride and ride and ride and ride and ride and ride and ride.


That's all that keeps you and your chair from plummeting 60 feet to your death.


If you're a river-rafting/kayaking kind of person, you should know that this spring is going to be off the hook.

This snowmelt should have the rivers just raging in May and June.

Last spring was supposedly superb, but this year will be even better.

On the way home, I saw a billy goat by the side of the road.

A few minutes later, I saw a bald eagle, flying low over the Gallatin River.

Pretty good day for wildlife viewing by car.

There is a huge raven in that tree.

While I was driving home, I put on this disc that was a compilation of tunes recorded from one of those 9/11 Benefit Concerts back in the day.

There is a live acoustic version on the disc of Bon Jovi singing, "Dead or Alive."

I rocked out so hard to it, I was embarrassed. I mean, I am one of the biggest music snobs I know, and I won't even admit I like Bon Jovi in public. Well, I don't. Wait, I just did.

When I told India, "Dude, I rocked out to Bon Jovi so hard and so loud, that I was embarrassed."

She looked at me and said, in all seriousness, "You should be."

I got home, changed and decided to run up the "M" and some of the Bridger foothill trail. The "running" part didn't happen on the incline since it was so damn steep.

It was a good hour of pounding and sweating, though. (That sounded dirty.)

I am going to try and make that a regular thing. My normal running route out here is pretty flat.

Anyway, fuckin' A, my legs are sore.

Have a groovy Good Friday.