Gondola n. An enclosed structure suspended from a cable, used for conveying passengers, as in to and from a ski slope. (slang: gondie)
Snowflake n. A single flake or crystal of snow
Well, season in definitely upon the university student, and I am definitely feeling the reality that I will not be riding this year...not as much as I would want to anyway. I do have plans of a Whistler spring-break if funds allow, but I cannot even start to conceive of that until I return from New York. Yep, the boy from Newfoundland is heading to the Big Apple for a few days of reunion, tattooing, debauchery, witnessing some vows being exchanged, and then touring the city with as much stealth as possible...oh my God, the list could go on. The irony is that I am only going for four days. Can I get an Amen for life, people? Always the looking for angles I am, and yes, you may have guessed that there is a story up and coming. For those that are the betting kind, you would be correct, and now go collect your winnings. The following is where I am in school right now, where I need to be, and just a glimpse into where I know I will be. Here you go, and may you enjoy.
"Lots of snow on the mountains", said her MSN message. Damn, is it snowing in Whistler already? I ran to check out www.whistler-blackcomb.com and dropped into their snow report for the month of September...and there it was. A small cropping of snow over the top of the Whistler gondola. I looked at the webcam still-frames, and my mind drifted back to a time when...I dropped in behind the gondola, while ahead of me there was fresh snow without a blemish on it in sight, and I followed the line as far as I could go, before the trail became rock and stone. If it had been mid-season, I would have been able to ride under the Gondie for most of the way, until that is, you came to the steep 30 foot cliff drop with no ridable transition below. Man, those were the days, and I miss them so, but for something to break away, something else must give...that is the compromise of it all.
So, now here I am, back in my present days, and I find myself in a mild freak-out about a mark I got in school. Are you ready for this? Me, the man who spouts such rhetoric about language, and who is proficient in creating images for the minds eye to see...got a C minus on his first writing assignment in Writing and Theory. Fack. Lesson anyone? It is when you think you have an inkling that there are so many ways to express the English Language (and, in a few years, the Spanish language), and then someone hands you your britches saying, "Drop and give me 20." Fack. Okay, okay, so it was my first attempt at writing in a journalistic style, and yes I do have a tendency to ramble at times...okay, all the time. I see that everything has a meaning to it, that people can seem random but they tie it all together with a pretty pink ribbon in the same breath. I know these things like I know what it means to scrawl thoughts unto paper; or, in this case, print on a mass-media broadband. But, I never saw that C minus coming. Bam...up side the head and out of nowhere. But you know what? It just means I have to study that much harder, observe that much more, and maybe jump levels I never even knew existed. It is all in the challenge, people, it is all in the challenge. It is not how you fight the mangy dog biting at your ankles, it is how you feed it the nourishment it needs; the more it bites, the stronger the thirst for new knowledge, and the want for something more. Recognize that when it comes because if you believe strongly enough in it, it comes for us all.
So, alright, if you take the last two paragraphs and add them all up, you can see where I am headed...okay, I know you have no idea, but I am coming to it. I can take a degree like public relations, maybe grab some experience in it in Vancouver, or maybe not, and then head down to South America like I have planned. Travel along the coast until I hit Argentina and its white-peaked ranges, then plunk myself down...and plan people's vacations for them. Calling from Paraguay and need someone who speaks Spanish? Si, Senorita, mi nombre es Todd. Mucho gusto. How about from down in Colorado and you want to see what is like to ride the Andes? Well, call me up partner, and let's set up a meeting. Or, maybe you are in Canada, and you only speak the English language in a broken French accent? Well, by that time, my french will be at least suitable to hold a conversation with you, and arrange for the ski-trip of your life. To those who scoff at what I say, remember this: Whose life do you think I am living this for anyway? Prepare the soil for the seeding, nurture the land, and reap the harvest. It all takes time, it all takes patience, but, oh my God, it all leads to the land of milk and honey. Where your reward awaits depends on the person, and what you really need more than you want. Stay the burn if you have to, feel the turn of the clock as the seconds tick off, but remember this: what is time but a light falling of individual snowflakes on a cool winter day...all of them just doing what they were meant to do. It really is that easy. Man, can you see it? Just me and my dog, heading to where the sun always warms the soul, and where the snow is waiting to be ridden...my best friend with his head out the window, getting high on the coastal air currents. I can taste the cervesa's as we speak. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.
"And what about your soul? Is it cold? Is it straight from the mould and ready to be sold?"
- Jack Johnson
