Getting Stoked

Tonight I went to a screening of the most recent Warn Miller ski film Off the Grid. As usual, the film showed some incredible ski and snowboard footage. Warn Miller gets the best shots and has the cheesiest lines. For example, while covering a Japanese professional snowball fight, the film dubbed English over the Japanese referee's voice. The voice in English said "Are your balls frozen? OK...go." Or "check the diameter of that guy's balls." Ha ha ha. There was also the requisite wrecks, jumps, and wacky people in neon one piece ski suits (or "romper suits" as they are apparently called in the UK, seriously, see this site). As a prelude to watching the ski film I had a great day on the mountain. There has been a few feet of snow in the last week. Monday was the day to be at the mountain, but alas I was at work. But there were still great tracks to be made today, and most importantly I found the ultimate music to listen to while snowboarding. The group Tool presents melodious tunes in a hard rock fashion. It's a great combo. You get pumped up but in a smooth, flowing way that perfectly lends itself to riding powder.

Enjoy the links in my blog, I only find the motivation to put them in every third blog or so.

Movie Night

Since the network that carries the Oscars doesn't come in on any of the televisions available for my viewing The Big Lebowski was used as a worthy substitute. In fact, The Big Lebowski was probably more entertaining than the awards show. The main character, Jeff Lebowski, or more commonly known as The Dude, is an inspiring character. He is totally at ease with himself, confident in his lifestyle, and able to occupy large amounts of free time walking around in jellies and a robe. I wish that I could occupy my time as easily as lazily as The Dude. I feel like I am wasting time if I am not doing something productive, going somewhere, or out of the house in general. For example, I can't listen to music as an end in itself. I have to be doing something else at the same time. So, to all who long to waste a little time on something totally unproductive, mix yourself a Caucasian and turn up the tunes.

Random Happenings of Late

Winter has finally returned to Central Oregon. Snow is even falling in town today. Unfortunately, some poor scheduling on my part has me stranded at home while my truck has its weary rear shocks replaced today. But I did get two great days on the mountain this week. I hadn't ridden in powder for over a month so I felt like a rusty gate at first, but I eventually got my form back.

On a sad note, my ever-comfortable and dear to my heart, inflatable mattress has sprung a slow leak. The leak developed while I enjoyed myself in Eugene. I naively hoped that it simply needed more air. The condition of the bed has deteriorated to the point that I have to pump it up every couple of nights. I'm hoping that there isn't a huge flood during a night which the pressure is low. This could seriously hinder my escape to higher ground while snug in my bed.

Some people put on two different color socks in the morning. I can't recall doing this in years. Apparently I was saving up for a bigger faux-pas. I put on two different colored shoes. Granted they are the same model of shoe, just different colors. I didn't notice my mistake until I returned home from running errands all morning.
Also a big shout out to Trust in Steel for joining the world of blogs. The web needs a good enforcer.

Yelling

I've been enjoying the act of yelling lately. Usually I yell when I am alone, I'm not a big public yeller. That may change though. I yell a lot in the car, mostly out of enthusiasm, sometimes out of frustration at other drivers. I am particularly enthusiastic these days about an upcoming backcountry snowboard trip in the Wallowas with my bro, cracking PBR's after work, and as of today, fish tacos. I have never had a fish taco before. The employees of Skjersaa's put in a big order at a local burrito joint. My order was screwed up and I got fish tacos instead. Thank goodness for that, a whole new world has opened up for me.

Back to yelling though. As per a recent conversation with my sister, I was reminded of an awkward yelling faze I went through when I was about her age, 19. As she is experiencing now, I experienced the inability to determine my natural yelling pitch. I experimented with high yells (too girly) and low yells (too fake/angry). I couldn't find a middle ground that expressed enthusiasm and felt natural. Fortunately I am past that. I feel confident enough now to give a high pitched "wooohoooo" at a concert or a natural tenor "yeah" when fantasizing about shredding some deep pow in the mountains. I think there will be growth in my utilization of yelling in the near future.

In other developments I haven't eaten breakfast cereal in three months. This is huge.

My Eugene Fix

I'm back at home in Bend safe and sound after a great weekend in Eugene. I remembered how much I like the former town of Prefontaine (who I thought was a band when I first moved there). The moisture, the greenery, the eclectic mix of people, the university, and the overall character of of the town are all a fantastic contrast to Bend. Bend has its good qualities and I'm having a good winter, but its no Eugene. Of course the high point of the trip was spending time with good friends. Much good food was consumed, a lot of alcohol was indulged in, and at least one cup of super strong coffee courtesy of Elizabeth rocked my world.

Here's a shout out to my homies in Eugene for providing good times and places to stay.

In the Valley

I made the short, but all to infrequent drive over the mountains last night to arrive in the Eden that is Eugene. It really feels like a garden here. Everything is green, moist, and alive. In Bend it is dry and dead this time of year. It feels good to be back in the valley, strolling around campus, sipping coffee, and making fun of the undergrads who can't get it together enough to put on anything else but sweatpants before their morning classes.

I was greeted last night by the members of the history posse who remain in Eugene and Fernando who made the drive up from N. CA. It was a fantastic way to be welcomed back to Eugene and could only have been made better by the presence of the departed members of the history posse. We actually were a posse, Old West Style. We were deputized (GTFs) by the sheriff (Profs), chased villains (un-interested undergrads), and doled out punishment when we could ("it's is not the same is its...no A for you). Furthermore, like the torch and pitch fork wielding members of any Old West posse, we weren't doing it for the money as the Sheriff would, we were doing it because we thought it was the right thing to do.

Campus was beautiful as usual, Rebecca gave me some good natured ribbing, and those people who were always at the library reading newspapers for the last two years are still there. It seems life at the U of O continues much as it did when I was there. Even now as I type this I sit in my old office, though at Kungfuramone's former desk. Jeff now occupies the office and has lent it to me as he is off translating the shit out of a Greek test for fifty minutes. I think he'll need a beer afterwards. I'll be happy to supply it.


In short, you can't beat hanging with good people even if there were no pitchforks or torches to be found.

Central Oregon

Ever since I moved to Central Oregon (the term Central Oregon is inescapable here) I have noticed the preponderance of jacked up pick-up trucks. It is really amazing how many people have bought trucks and then spent thousands of dollars on aftermarket tires, wheels, shocks, and detail packages. It actually pisses me off because gas is really expensive in Bend and tons of people are making their gas guzzling trucks even less fuel efficient. If the money they spent on the extra gas they have to buy was combined with what they spent on raising the trucks in the first place and instead spent on something more community/environmentally friendly the results could be quite staggering. Very few of these trucks goes offroad or actually makes use of the increased clearance. It is really just a social statement. I've never seen so many people trying to identify themselves with a particular region in such a way. After just a few years here, a typically normal person seems to become infected with the need to jack their truck up. I hope I'm immune.

It's not worthy

The chorizo turned out well, considering I was adding it to a boxed jambalaya mix. It added a great kick and zest. With that success, I was on the prowl for more meat products. When I do cook, it is not often with meat because it is a pain in the ass to prepare, especially for one. But tonight I am biting the bullet and making chili. This chili will be nowhere near the quality of E's sausage etc...chili mind you (possibly the best food in the world). This chili is straight out of Betty Cracker's cook book. Betty Cracker is a great resource, especially for hearkening back to my casserole eating, potluck attending, Great Plains taste buds. Just don't expect an adventure for your palette from old Betty.

Once the chili eating is done, I am going to attend the Bend Winterfest. I made an appearance there last night. I was totally underwhelmed. There was a "fire dancer" that just ended up being an old hippie playing with flip sticks that were on fire at each end. And he dropped them. The ice carving was OK but the snowboard and ski jib-fest was lame. The ramp to the rail was not high enough, so must people wrecked, the rail was too steep, and snow had to be trucked in from the mountain. On top of that drinks were expensive. The Winterfest promises to be better tonight, if for no other reason than the festivities are slated to end and or begin at a local Martini bar.

If anyone has any snow (ahem, Denver) feel free to send some of it this way.