The day was...

...mine. I have had many moments when I felt that I had become an adult. Like I have made a tangible contribution to society. My first real job. My first pieces of furniture (non-thrift store). My first car. My first sucessful fund-raiser. Various moments in my career. Blah blah blah. None of these have equaled my last feat:

I made the Thanksgiving turkey.

Big thanks to all those who walked before me to create this art and science. Cheers to the person who discovered that by using the process of osmosis, the turkey meat's cell membranes will open up to allow salt in, thus chemically breaking down internal fiber protiens - creating a tender, juicy meat. Thanks to all those who perished before the discovery of the "safe temperature" of turkey - 165 degrees F. Prost to whoever invented compound butter. An indebited gratitude to the Jewish people for their Kosher salt. A tribute statue should be erected to the boy scout that figured out the best way to truss that bird with all the crazy knots and miles of twine, I can barely tie my shoes. Thank you Alton Brown, Emeril, Tyler Florence, and the Food Network staff. I couldn't have done it without you. All of you. Thanks.

I would also like to thank King Soopers for selling an 18lb. turkey for $10. For the neighbor girls for organizing and throwing the shindig - and making it possible for me to focus on the turkey and not on the side dishes (all FIFTEEN of them). Thank you vegetarian girls at the table that decided to break the rules for just one day...and then go back for seconds. And lastly, thank you food-induced coma.

See you next year.

Dumb People that Ruin the Snow 1

"Basketball Jerseys"

I could make one entry called "Snowboarders," but then you wouldnt get to enjoy my rants throughout the winter. I would be done today and I wouldnt have anything else to say. So, I will be breaking it down over the course of a few months. Today, basketball jerseys. Big, baggy basketball jerseys. They dont belong on the mountain. They look stupid, and are completely non-functional. Basketball is a sport played inside, on a court, and in a tanktop. Skiing/snowboarding is a sport played outside, on the snow, in the (sometimes) blistering cold, and bundled up in Gore Tex, Thinsulate, RipStop Nylon, and Goose Down.

If you want to be ironical, wear a hula skirt over your ski clothes on Gaper Day.

I am not sure how you identify with the basketball culture, but I am pretty sure it has something to do with rebelling against Daddy and his law firm. But make sure that you dont rebel enough for him to stop paying for your Audi while you are taking the year off.

Late Early Season...

...is approaching. For some people, Ski Season is Ski Season.

1. For the complete layman, it can only be separated by when the lifts are running. Kind of like a light switch, it is either ski season, or not ski season.

2. For the college student, we can separate the season into two times: Winter and Spring Break. Winter is when you go with your parents and let them pay for everything. Spring Break is when you rent a one bedroom condo with 15 of your closest friends, pack into a suburban complete with a cooler full of frozen lasagnas you bought at Sams Club, and head up to the mountains for a lot of debauchery and a little skiing.

3. For the novice, we can add a third subsection. Now it is early, mid, and late season. Early means "before Christmas", mid means "until March", and late means "until the lifts at Vail close." This is a little like getting really excited at the end of a storm, pointing at the clouds, and saying, "Look! There are Three Colors in the Rainbow!" But we are getting a little closer.

4. For the Female Texan, there are only two seasons: "Too cold," and "Warm Enough to Wear my Fuzzy Boots." Beware gentlemen - apres ski clothes are very expensive, can only be worn once (apparently), and is only worn by tourists. Run.

There are countless other ways to look at the calendar. Not one is wrong, as long as it involves you getting on the snow. Or really, if it involves you longing to be on the snow. The snow is falling, and its alive. It lets you ride on it. It lets you live. It is generous.

We have our own conception of when it is ski season out here. The lifts dont regulate the season. The season consists of micro-seasons, usually each consisting of one minute. One run is different from the next. One hike changes the consistency of the downward trip. One morning is different from the afternoon.

Now, there is an ebb and flow to this free-form message. A ying to the yang. The mountain is a peaceful place. The snow falls quietly and embraces us. But, with all the peace and quiet, I am still a bitter, judgemental person. And I want you to know all about my hate and scorn, so look for my special section/rants throughtout the winter called "Dumb People that Ruin the Snow." Enjoy.

The view from...

...my new office isnt bad.

Go ahead, click on it.

The snow is...

...coming down, and the tourists are coming up.

I headed up to the Frisco Castle on Thursday to slow down a little. Found out that the condo is pretty conducive for working during the week, so that was a bonus. A little rundown of the last few days:

1. Drove up through a little snowstorm on the way up. Snow is good. Wind is scary. ALSO, I think I have the original headlamps in my '99 4Runner...so I promptly replaced them after I got up here. Its okay Mom, I have The Force.

2. Met another of the Castle roomies on Thursday night - we had a really exciting night of doing absolutely nothing. You may say "Wait Kevin, doing nothing doesnt sound very exciting." Ah, but yes, it was VERY exciting. I love doing nothing.

3. I skied on Friday morning before my conference call. It was snowing. I had a snow beard. All was well again.

4. Saturday skiing was...well, Saturday skiing. There is very little terrain actually open, and not all the resorts are open yet. LOTS OF PEOPLE. And since I had skied Breck on Friday, I thought I would head over to Keystone. Got there about opening time...and promptly put my skis back in my car and had breakfast and coffee. Only the gondola (aka "the Gaper Box") was open, and the line was AT LEAST 90 minutes to get on. Seriously, Ive never seen a group of lemmings like that. People were lined up all the way back to Margaritaville. Breakfast was good though.

5. So I went home, grabbed my roomie Brandy, and we went over to Breck again. Lines werent as bad and we got a few runs in. I thought that cycling all summer would get my legs ready for Tele Skiing. Nope. My quads are dead after two days of skiing in a row (only four runs each day). Thus, I found it necessary to...

6. Get in the hot tub at the Castle. Oh, not just once, but three times. I think I have somehow permanently cured my skin. Not unlike bacon. I hear the pruny look is all the rage now.

7. I thought that I had figured out the American political scene in terms that actually mattered. My roomie JD always said during the debates, "Whichever one talks about skiing first - Ill vote for." So, I got really excited in a moment of enlightenment up here in the mountains: driving behind a car with an Obama sticker I realized that you can call him "SNOW-bama." After a few short seconds of rejoice, and a mind that is constantly on the single track - I both realized that I could have completly redistributed the Colorado vote if I would have called the other guy "Champagne McCain." Damn, too late.

See you back in the city. You know, soonish.

Texas does funny...

...things to me. I get pretty introspective. Maybe its the looking back at "home" as an outsider. Perhaps its because I realize that Texas doesnt put itself on hold, and doesn't get excited for my homecoming. Or its because I can actually slow down when I get there and think. Nevertheless, Texas does funny things to me. But I also do funny things to Texas:

1. Looked at a baby. My cousin Jordan and his wife Lori had a baby. I had actually timed my trip back to Texas based on the due date...played my cards right and the little guy was actually born a couple of weeks ago. Cute little guy - named him Colt. I am pretty convinced that with a name like that he is either going to be an outlaw or a quarterback. Or an outlaw quarterback.

2. Went to a wedding. It was a strange act for me to actually get a hotel room in Fort Worth. But it was good. My buddy Tim from college jumped ship and actually tied the knot. Actually as I looked around at my college friends' ladyfriends I noticed that they all had rings on their fingers. It made me stop and think...glad I got out of Texas alive.

3. Got on stage. I'm not exactly sure how the events went down, but here is a synopsis: I remember a wedding. Then there was the reception. Then everybody filed out to a bar. There was a tequila shot. And then I was in the Stockyards with some strangers that I had just met. Oh, and Jordan was playing music so I got up on stage and the Wayward Mycoskies were once more. Oh, the sweetest winds they blow across the south.

4. Ate Mexican food. Oh, glorious Mexican food. Spent a little time with my dear old friend Garret and we went to Esparanzas. The salsa was spicy. The relleno was incredible. And I washed it all down with Iced Tea. Unsweetened.

5. Figured out whats important. You don't have to talk to people everyday to be friends. And in friendship there is sacrifice. Friends make you assess yourself. Friends go out of their way to see you. Friends pay for lunch.

If you know...

...me well, I've probably cooked for you in the past. I love to cook. I love to feed. I love to eat. And there have been a few recipes that I have done well with in the past: Stuffed Chicken Parmesan, Penne and Pesto, Sticky Rice, Migas, Breakfast Burritos, Peasant's Meal...but now I think I have the perfect recipe. But the pre-preparation is as important as the actual ingredients, technique, and preparation. Here it goes...

Blackened Pizza Surprise:

1. Dress like an participant of Pamplona's Running of the Bulls with some of your friends. Make sure that somebody actually dresses like a bull or you might lose a little of the flair.

2. Drink German beer from a funnel. Nevermind the fact that you haven't done this since highschool (you know, substituting "German" with "Cheap Domestic").

3. Play flipcup with all of the Runners, this time using Wynkoop's not so light beer.

4. Repeat step #2.

5. Go to Halloween Party with 400 other people, but make sure to bring a waterbottle full of moonshine (really). Not because you are too cheap to buy drinks, but because you don't want to wait in line (you aren't fooling anyone, though).

6. Dance a lot. Get really sweaty. Yeah.

7. Find guy dressed as Jose Cuervo and take shots of tequila using his provided booze and shot glasses.

8. Repeat step #6.

9. Walk home when its time. But make a detour to King Soopers to pick up a frozen pizza. Nevermind that you are lactose intolerant.

10. Set oven at instructed temperature. Place pizza on a cookie sheet (preheated) as to avoid making a cheese mess in the oven. Set time according to instructions.

11. Lay down on the couch. Because, in your state, you will definitely hear the buzzer go off.

12. Five hours later make sure your roommate comes down stairs to turn off oven.

13. Two more hours later get off the couch, wonder who the heck tried to make a pizza, go upstairs to bed.

There you go, the perfect recipe. Don't try that at your home.