March 13, 2013
You know how if you share something super important to you, like, say, your favorite movie, or a favorite restaurant, and they hate it, you know how that sucks? Or even suckier, if they’re indifferent?
So I’m talking to Ian the other day. You know, the Ian who is totally into electronic music, some dubstep, Bonobo and the like, and who wants me to listen to it all the time whenever we’re in the car. Or everywhere.
Anyway. Earlier that day (the day when I was talking to Ian), I had watched the first song from Stop Making Sense, Psycho Killer, and had this wave of nostalgia wash over me–Stop Making Sense was my first midnight movie (that I stayed awake for–my first was The Song Remains the Same–who can stay awake for that at midnight?), and it’s awesome, and I love it, and so should everyone. EVERYONE!
So I pulled up the Psycho Killer video on my phone and said to Ian (who loves music, so of course would love something as awesome and groundbreaking and important as this) “hey Ian. Watch this.” (No pressure, right? It’s just my soul I handed to you just now.)
He watched it in silence. And then said “That was weird.” And handed my phone back to me.
Remember the movie Broadcast News, when Jack Nicholson rips Albert Brooks’ heart out on the set, and Albert leans in and whispers to Holly Hunter “I’m going to go outside and cry. When I go, laugh like I just told you something hysterical so nobody knows I’m dying inside.”
It was kind of like that.
(Except, right after that, Ian said “hey, can we watch the next Godfather movie tonight?” And then later he said “so I’ve kind of been listening to nothing but Radiohead lately.” It’s hard to be mad at someone who says stuff like that.)
February 27, 2013
Me n Holden n Mark, we few, we happy few, did the early morning thing in Scotties Bowl this morning. And even though the skinner was in, even though we had that Wasangeles feel with headlamps ahead of us and headlamps behind us, and LCC got a foot while other places, you know, like BCC, got mostly nuthin, we still had a pretty good day. On a shot where you pretty much ski 2500 feet of north facing powder car to car.
Just before we dropped out into the bowl, Holden yelled “Hey, there’s a nice air to get out of the chute.”
I said “Um, mandatory?”
And he said “Don’t be such a baby.” And he turned and aired out into the bowl.
The whole drive home, he kept turning to me and saying “Hey Dad . . . Mandatory?”
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Here’s the motion picture version:
February 18, 2013
Me n the two Tylers got out Saturday trying to get deeper into Days. About 4,000 feet later we were satisfied. There’s good snow in them thar hills. The helis beat us there, but they left a little for us.
I’ve only been getting video of the descents lately, cuz I broke my Contour, but I still have my magic goggles.
Maybe I should sell the magic goggles and buy some new base layers. Because now, I can wash my smart wool base and new Artcteryx shirt over and over, but the moment the hike begins, all the stink returns, like Hamlet’s sins. I don’t know if I’m attracting or repelling the wild life.
Don’t answer that. It wasn’t a question anyway.
February 3, 2013
I loves me some Lone Peak, and weather and conditions aligned perfectly on Groundhog day for another outing. I think I’m going to make this a Groundhog day tradition. (I’m not sure I have a choice. Do I?)
We started with seven from Alpine, and first to drop was Kyle, who later found out he was sporting a nasty fever. Second to drop was Rob, who hiked to the second hammongog and had to bail for family stuff, meaning he hiked halfway, and before the sun did its work on the snow, he had to ski the old road back to the car on what he called “the worst snow he has ever experienced.”
The rest of us kept at it, and the day turned glorious. Not a cloud in the sky, no wind at all, and not another soul in sight. For a while I thought we were going to be skiing breakable crust for 6,000 feet, but the higher we climbed, the better we felt about the conditions–the descent was going to be good. Not real corn, but soft, fast, creamy goodness.
But enough talk. Pictures tell the story.
I should mention here, that Holden, all 14 years of him, led most of the day, including all of the second half. I hear we have Whitney’s spin class to thank. So thanks Whitney’s spin class.
The descent was fast. Or, rather, the descent to the second hamongog was fast. Then the descent to the first hamongog was half fun, half tricky, half super tricky. And then the descent to the water tank was icky. But we all agreed, a thin veneer of snow on dirt and rock was waaaaay better than booting down that last mile with skis on packs.
Here’s a little summit video. Just as a bonus. (Just summiting really, with a start on the descent, but camera battery issues prevented good video.)
See you next Groundhog Day. Duh.
January 30, 2013
I don’t want to belabor the topic, but I finally burned a lunch break and drove my defunct Comcast remote down to the Comcast service center and traded it in for a shiny new remote, all shrink-wrapped and everything.
Last night I set about teaching my remote to connect with my TV. Which is easy, right? You just look on the handy instruction sheet for the code that matches your TV, then follow the steps that seem a little like the fancy dance Vin Diesel does in The Pacifier (You know, the Peter Panda Dance–“Roll like a log till you can’t roll no more! Better jump up quick like there ain’t no floor, Hold your breath, and jump/step/slide to the left; And that’s the Peter, I swear that’s the Peter, That’s the Peter Panda Dance!”–Remember NOW?)
Anyway, I forget what I was talking about. Oh, right, I’m training my Comcast remote. Which feels a lot like being punked with all the clicking and pointing and waiting. And it’s NOT WORKING.
I try it like 20 times, with every code on the page. I go behind the TV with my iPhone flashlight app, to see if I can get more specific on the model number. And finally, I sit in front of the TV, and dial up Comcast support, get in the queue, put the phone on speaker while I wait, and watch Predator (what a serendipitous little surprise that our TV should be stuck on Predator).
Finally, right as Arnold squares off in the mud with the ugly alien, I get a live one on the phone.
“No problem sir, I can walk you through that.”
“What’s the make of your television?”
It’s a Mitsubish . . . . um, well, it’s a TOSHIBA.” Aaahhhhhhhhhhh!
Me, now knitting my shaming hair shirt which is waaay less shaming than to tell all y’all about this.
Let’s just keep it between us okay?
January 25, 2013
Remember Commercial Free?
I’ll raise you a Cable Remote.
Our digital cable remote recently had a stroke. And, like a stroke victim, the remote now works on the left side, but not the right side. That is, volume control, on/off, but no channel or guide control.
So, rather than examine the root causes of stroke (um, straining at bowel movement?), we . . . well, we did nothing. We are stuck on channel 4.
At least it’s the HD version of channel 4.
Or, we crawl up to the cable box, and squint or use the iPhone flashlight app and find the channel buttons on the box.
Last night I had enough–I dialed up Comcast support.
After 35 minutes of wading through menus and waiting on hold, I hung up, crawled up to the cable box, and changed the channel.
January 24, 2013
Yay me. I have discovered a new permutation of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. My last discovery centered around the su . . . er, around the process of drying oneself after a shower.
In a nutshell, the discovery was this: You can dry yourself in order, but you can’t KNOW the order of the drying. Simple, yet crazy.
So last night, I was leaving work, got in the elevator, which was a bit crowded and cramped, and then tried to put on my jacket.
Well, I was blocked to my right, so I put on the left sleeve first. And then I froze. “Ahhh! I can’t find my other sleeve. I’m trapped in my jacket, help.”
Bile rising, panic setting in, I bit my lip until we reached the ground floor and I could burst into the hallway and take off my left sleeve, and put on my jacket properly, right sleeve first. I hesitate to describe the process for fear of violating Dug’s Uncertainty Principle, but it’s like this:
- right arm in.
- swing jacket around the back, while left hand reaches behind looking for the armhole.
- push left arm through.
- shrug the jacket up to the shoulders.
See? Perfectly rational. Not crazy at all.
Just don’t screw it up.