I watch a lot of TV, so I know what’s going on. And it’s not good, people.
American guys must be the biggest suckers. Six weeks after you just blew your wad buying your
woman diamonds or a Lexus for Christmas, the American male is now expected to pony up another few hundred bucks for more overpriced jewelry on some made-up holiday called Valentine’s Day. That is, at least if you believe the commercials.
If you really want to make your sweetie’s day next Thursday, take her bowling in El Jebel and buy her a Frosty and some french fries at Wendy’s. Then get it on in the parking lot.
Fortunately, here in Aspen, we don’t need TV or bowling for entertainment. We have gapers. I saw one the other day on the lift, early in the morning when it was about 5 degrees outside, wearing no head covering to speak of. What makes someone think, “Hey, the temperature is in the single digits, this would be a great day not to wear a hat?!?”
The slopes are also great places for eavesdropping. Some things that we’ve recently overheard:
“I usually dress for the lift lines. This place is great!” This was said by some guy wearing neon yellow who apparently is used to skiing in places where long lift lines are typical, which, I suppose, requires you to dress warmer to endure standing around in the cold for 20-plus minutes. I guess that’s how people think in Vail.
“You’ve got about a hundred twin-tipped, gorilla-stance guys following you in there.” Overheard over the radio of a ski patroller who had just gone to open Trainor’s on Tuesday around 11 a.m. In case you a poorly functioning memory, Monday offered bottomless powder skiing. Tuesday was almost as good, but not as much snow, although it was sunny. Props to the ski patrol for saving areas like Trainor’s for the day after the big powder day. It helps prolong the magic.
Speaking of props and smack-downs, Where’s Wacko this week is debuting a new feature dishing out our own version of darts and laurels: “Dude, you’re a badass” or “Homie, you need to be bitch-slapped.”
Dude, you’re a badass: The guy who brought my backpack to the lost and found after I left it at the bus stop. I was heading up to Highlands and was so excited I left my bag, which contained shoes and my passport, just sitting there on the bench when the bus pulled up. Guy, if I knew who you were, I would give you a hug.
But you know what? I was never really that worried. I felt 90 percent sure someone would pick it up and turn it in. It’s in the same way that I have no qualms about leaving my bag and shoes under the benches at the bottom of the gondola. Are we too trusting here?
Homie, you need to be bitch-slapped: Whoever had anything to do with the mass destruction of two of my favorite smoker shrines across area mountains prior to this winter.
Ever heard of a little place called Joint Point? It was marvelous. Someone had taken the trouble to hang an old chairlift seat from a tree overlooking Pyramid Peak and the Maroon Bells off the western flank of Highlands. With the seat, all the other trappings of a heady hangout followed, with benches, Grateful Dead paraphernalia and parachute army men toys adorning a peaceful sanctuary in the trees.
But much to the dismay of Highlands smokers everywhere, this monument to the free spirits is now gone. Same goes for the infamous Cough Lounge off Naked Lady in Snowmass, which was a full-on cabin, complete with seat cushions. The right-wing bastards who are behind these affronts to local culture must be stopped. Where’s Wacko would like to guarantee that the valley will show the offenders what’s up by replacing these treasures with new ones this summer. Count me in on the labor.
Instead of Valentine’s Day, Where’s Wacko much prefers pointless holidays that involve more drinking. Like Thanksgiving. E-mail him at email@example.com.