And the Seasons Change Again

Saturday marked the beginning of the ski season in the SC. Our local mountain (actually, it’s just a really really big hill) opened for the weekend and I found myself going to work bright and early for the ski patrol. My gear was still packed away from last season and my board hasn’t been tuned or waxed so needless to say I wasn’t fully prepared for this to happen. Also, since it hasn’t really snowed this year I wasn’t too crazy about spending my day on the mountain but I guess there were worse things I could have been doing.

As a snowboarder I have a bit of a gripe with snowboarders. Well, maybe it’s more an issue with the companies that promote the blatantly obnoxious style and look that’s on the pros each season. I’m still trying to figure out how someone can comfortably ride down a mountain on a snowboard while their pants hang precariously below their ass. I also don’t understand how wearing a moisture soaked bandana around your face feels good. Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer to grow a beard in order to keep my face warm, but then again I should consider the demographic I’m talking about.

I could continue on about this particular topic and I fully intend to do just that, but not right now. The season is still young so there will be plenty of time for me to rail against the industry that gives me so much enjoyment in the winter while also frustrating me to no end. It’s not always about the latest fashions and the hippest trends. Sometimes you actually have to ride a board down the mountain.

Even though the season opened with little fanfare it was still a bluebird day and I’ll take that any chance I can. I have to admit, it felt really good to be out on the slopes with my board under foot. With any luck the real snow will start to fly soon and I’ll be able to enjoy a full season of free-rides, tree-lines, and nipple-deep pow, so let the games begin.

Holiday Fun; Part I

Ah the holidays. You know, that glorious time of year when friends and families get together for food, merriment, and an all around good time; or at least that’s the general idea. Before I continue, I want to stress that I love my family very much. As far as families go, they are second-to-none and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. With that said, when I get together with my family over the holidays I often find myself trying not to lose my mind during these times of good tidings.

Let me set the table for you. My family consists of seventeen people. This includes my parents, brothers and sister, the in-laws, and seven nieces and nephews (ranging in age from seven to one). All tolled there are seventeen of us. My one brother and I are the only two single adults left so my tolerance for this type of sensory overload is a bit skewed. In my own little world I can handle a lot of goings on, but then again, I have a little more control over what happens in my little bubble. In the “family holiday” world, however, it’s a free-for-all that only seems to subside when those at the ends of the age spectrum start to fade off and go to bed.

Here’s how it usually happens. I arrive to my parents’ home and immediately suspect they have been robbed because all the furniture in the otherwise comfortable family-room is gone. That’s when I’m reminded that everything has been relocated throughout the house in order to make room for the multiple dining tables and plethora of mismatched chairs that will provide a cozy (read: elbow-to-elbow and no room to move) atmosphere for our holiday feast. I spend a few quite hours catching up with my parents and help move furniture.

After a while, the rest of the family starts to trickle in. The first few minutes are fine as salutations are exchanged with handshakes and hugs for all. Then, the may-lay begins. It usually has a similar recipe so it’s fairly predictable. It goes something like this:

Start by saying any one of the following, “Hey guys, don’t chase each other.” “SLOW DOWN!” “There’s no running here kids.”

Repeat the above phrases about thirty or forty times and enjoy a little pre-dinner wine.

Begin gathering (or herding) the seven kids and eleven adults around the table to collectively sit for a pleasant dinner.

Once seated and everyone’s plates are full, choose one child to start getting antsy thus creating a chain reaction causing all the kids to demand they be excused to continue running around the house.

Repeat above phrases until someone gets hurt or someone starts to cry (including the adults).

As the empty bottles of wine and beer stack up in the recycling bin and some actual furniture is returned to the family-room it’s nice to sit down and enjoy a few laughs with the family. Oddly enough, this is not a new pattern. It happened again this year and is bound to happen next year as well. Through it all though, I’m thankful that I have such a wonderful family to spend time with during the holidays. It must not be all that bad because for some reason I end up going back for more every year (and Christmas is right around the corner). Now who wants more pie with their insanity?

Pollution Control

I’m not going to lie; this past weekend took a bit out of me. It was the last home football game of the season and we had a few friends come into town. The weather was cold and I decide to rage a bit more than normal. It hurt more than I expected, but then again, I knew it might get a little rough. The events of this weekend reminded me of a song that my brothers and I made up a while ago. There was music that went with it as well, but I couldn’t begin to tell you how to play it. This is what I remember:

It’s early morning, about seven AM.
Still silly from a night of Jim.
I think it’s as bad as the night before.
I can’t remember, finding the floor.

Don’t take into heart, but take in to mind;
It will happen again, it happens all the time;
And each time, you don’t remember the last.

On and on he keeps calling me.
Just like a friend, I’ve never seen.
We talk about a lot of things.
He says nothing at all to me.

Okay, so maybe calling it a song was a bit of a stretch. Maybe it’s more of a poem. Regardless, this past weekend reminded me of these lyrics. As I’ve been trying to shake to cobwebs out today, I realized why I don’t go big like this all the time. It’s just too much work.

What I Did On My 48 Hour Vacation

This past weekend I decided to return to my old stomping grounds and visit some of my old college friends. Late Friday afternoon I began the first leg of what was to be a whirlwind trip to Iowa. The plan was to watch the Iowa State (my Alma mater) football team play Missouri. It was the last home game of a very poor Cyclone season that left much to the imagination; however (as a fan that can’t admit their team actually sucks right now) the team is young and has a lot of potential.

Being at the stadium and in that environment brought back a lot of really great memories. It was a bitterly cold day and the nasty weather continued into the evening for kickoff. The wind was blowing strong through the stadium driving the temperatures into the mid 20’s so it was just as I remembered. An interesting aspect of the day that really reemphasized the fact that I was in the middle of Iowa was the sheer volume of people at the game dressed in Carhartt coveralls. It brought a smile to my face and made me forget the hectic schedule I’ve been keeping lately with my “real life.”

Though I was gone for just under 48 total hours, a lot happened including a few unexpected surprises making the weekend that much more interesting. I saw some old friends that I made a point to get together with and saw some people I never expected would be around (but still enjoyed seeing). None the less, it was really fantastic to be around some of the people I shared time with in the Midwestern town where I spent some important years growing up (but I didn’t really grow up).

In the end, Iowa State got shellacked 52 to 20. I had a feeling we would be on the business end of a good old fashioned trip to the woodshed, so it wasn’t unexpected. What really mattered though (and made the trip completely worthwhile) was being able to relive a few memories with good friends and remember what it was like to be that young college kid without any worries.

The Post That Wasn't

I had a great idea (or so I thought) for a post this week. I was going to write a witty dissertation on the use of the comma in everyday numbers. For example, when we write out the year, there’s no comma. Similarly, house numbers are written without a comma. Why is that?

I had it all planned out. It was going to be some of my best work. Then, however, I made the mistake of telling my friend Scott about my proposed post. Scott is considerably smarter than I am (although I’m better looking, ZING). After I told him about the idea for my post he threw out some explanation of integers, logarithms, and other things I didn’t understand. It was at that moment I realized I would not be writing about the comma, so Scott, thanks for making this week’s post a lot easier for me.

Instead, I’ll tell you all about what I did this past weekend. I did something that was long overdue and needed in my life. I did nothing. I didn’t spend time with anyone (until my conversation with the aforementioned destroyer of great ideas). Friday and Saturday I stayed at home and did nothing. The weather was decent enough so there wasn’t a reason for me to stay in other than I just felt like it.

Lately I’ve been busy with work and extra curriculars in my life. I don’t see that slowing down anytime soon. This was one of the few chances I was going to have to sit back, relax, and do as little as possible so I decided to take full advantage. I had a few things to take care of on Sunday (one of which was NOT my plan crushing conversation with Scott but I guess some things are unavoidable) so that was kind of a wash, but before that I spent some quality time doing nothing. It was a great decision.

The Power of One

While it’s not really winter yet, it is late in the fall and camping is not necessarily on the top of my “to do” list. However, once in a while the conditions are ideal including brisk fall temperatures, an idyllic location, and great people (that’s right, I’m talking about you Scott, Betty, Kota, and Cathy). The site in this case is simply referred to as Lone Pine. I’m not sure who gave it this moniker or when, but the name fits. In the middle of a deciduous forest stands one solitary pine tree. It takes several miles to hike in, but once there, it’s definitely worth the while.

At this time of year, most of the trees have forfeited their leaves and therefore that one evergreen tree stands alone in all its splendor and grandeur. It’s almost like the oaks, maples, and birch trees have stepped aside and this pine is finally allowed to be the center of attention instead of another giant stick lost in the mix. Regardless, this majestic tree is secluded in a valley and provides a spectacular location for camping. The ground is littered with pine needles providing soft bedding for anyone wishing to spend the night sheltered under the tree’s intact canopy.

The evening was absolutely perfect. I didn’t sleep well, but that’s of no consequence. The night provided a calm that is usually only found indoors and the temperatures dipped into the thirties making for ideal conditions to have a few drinks and stay warm by the fire before slipping into a sleeping bag. While we were only out for one night, it was a night that I won’t soon forget. I’m just glad I’m still able to be outside enjoying what the changing seasons offer.