T-minus 30

I'm appropriately spending a few of the last minutes writing about - well who really cares?

It's bed time and I'm riding out my 20s in style with a wonderful wife lying next to me, beautiful daughter sleeping down the hall in our rented Olympia house where I also spend too much time working on school, work, Navy and screwing off with an incomplete bachelors degree and budding career.

So I'll start my 30s the way I started my 20s - skiing. Only this time I'm sharing my little tradition with my family.

What more can I ask for?


Bring on the rest of my life!!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

My Night Before Christmas

It's about to end as I turn for bed. Morning will come no matter what and Hannah will wake up and open her presents. Then this all goes into history.

Any of you ever realize you will remember something forever - as it's happening?

That's what happened to me this evening while reading five stories to Hannah before bed. One of those stories was The Night Before Christmas.

We decided after a long night at Nana and Grandpa Dusty's house, we'd head home and get the milk and cookies ready for Santa. Then we'd read stories till Hannah got tired. She's listening to Bing Crosby and racked out - thinking of Santa Claus and presents in the morning.

I knew this point would come sometime and imagined it a lot. Now there's reality.

We have no snow for a white Christmas and there's none in the forecast. I'm turning 30 tomorrow, behind on work and about to take the gratuitous bite of cookie and drink of milk before waking up to the best present a person can get - watching your child go nuts Christmas morning.

I'm just glad I thought to take the time to document this incredible feeling. It's everything I ever hoped it would be. I really have a family - one so much better than I could ever have imagined.

Merry Christmas to all - and to all a good night.

Christmistory

I've always enjoyed studying history. It's the story of existence. Everything we know can only be relearned by studying history. It's fascinating - especially when it's true.

Here's a recent post from a former history teacher of mine. It's perfectly fitting considering all the perceived truths surrounding Christmas. Everyone in the world can celebrate one universal theme no matter what you believe - spending time with loved ones and taking at least one day out of our busy lives to share joy.

Here's what Joe Cavalli has to say about it:

"Sol Invictus! Happy Birth of the Sun...The date affixed to the birth of Jesus has varied and still does. Early Egyptian Christians celebrated Christmas in April, and the Armenian Church still rejects the 25 December date in favor of 6 January (Epiphany). - The most popular ancient Roman festivals were Saturnalia (1-2...3 Dec) and the Birth of the Sun, 25 Dec. celebrated by those in the Cult of Mithra.

In a pragmatic move, 4th cent. Pope Julius I set the birth of Jesus on the same day as birth of the sun. - The first religious nutjobs, not the last in America i.e., Puritans, banned Christmas since there is no mention of the date of Jesus' birth date in the Bible. St. Francis Assisi gets credit for inventing the Nativity scene and St. Boniface was... See More first to cut down the god Thor's tree(yule). Martin Luther revived the popularity of the pagan Yule tree. Don't forget to thank a pagan today. Most of our Christian traditions, dates and celebration originate with them. Merry Christmas."

Last Call?

Every time I hear this track, I think of my fucking incredible struggle to make a splash in the ski industry. Much like Mr. West - I've made the impossible happen while destroying it in the process. His Last Call track always catapults reflection of my own developing story as I break into the ski industry.

Much like any of these hip hop icons, I've been breaking into my own industry. Every up and every down feel equally substantial - everything could build or bust off this move.

Bottom line is there's something that makes my heart beat about the whole thing - skiing. I don't know how I ended being driven to this sport or the industry and lifestyle surrounding it. Sometimes I just wish I could have a coaches' rating to gauge my influence. Those guys don't realize how fortunate they are to see their record or true rating or a quantifiable number.

I can travel from 95th to 40th in a matter or hours. So can anyone, but it's stressful - no doubt.

Whether it be going from Navy deck ape to journalist and public affairs specialist or from measly Powder intern to account executive with Hayter PR - it's a success story and it's all mine. Maybe my story doesn't sound like Kanye's, but it certainly sounds similar and feels likewise.

In my own defense  - I'm still yet to meet anyone who's gone from my beginnings to my current state. Yeah, that statement could be considered arrogant or conceited. But in reality, I did it - no one else.

Fair nuff I guess. As much as I don't wanna finish this press release tonight, my previous work bought me the ability to push it off till the a.m. - if nothing else.

I wonder what that alone puts my rating at...

Revelstoked

The closer to 30 I get the closer I get to Revelstoke!

It's hard to believe I'll wait till I'm 30 to go cat or heli skiing. Not that anyone should feel a heli skiing trip should come before the big 3-0, but because I've worked so close to the industry for so long and so many of my friends have gone already.

Well by no means am I bitching. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunities and events come - well you get the idea. And the fact I'll be doing both likely more than once this season leaves me more than humbled. I'm a bit disappointed in myself for being out of shape for next week's Revelstoke trip. But let's be honest - I'm really celebrating being 30 and still skiing - two things that just didn't seem like they'd be mixing.

Lastly, I think it's about high time I celebrate success. I'll dive into this a bunch more in a later post, but 2009 is clearly the best year I can remember. It just hasn't stopped and I'm finally starting to believe I can continue doing it. I've never been this far down the road before and the scenery is beautiful.

So I'm sending 2009 out the way it deserves - from Nelson, BC at Revelstoke. May it be from the chairs, cats or helis - I'm sure to have a trip to remember!

Debacle For the Holidays

I'm at Reno-Tahoe International Airport in Reno about to board my flight to Oakland - and finally on to Seattle.

My plan was to jump a much cheaper (free) flight from Travis AFB between Sacramento and San Francisco. That flight got canceled last night - just the icing on the cake for this trip. Despite my best efforts, everything from the time I first started working, turned into another ski-related story assignment failure.

Day one was relaxing after KC drove the entire trip from Olympia to Reno - via Bend, Ore. The second day brought heavy snow shile shooting KC Deane and 4bi9's Dave Eulerat at Northstar  with legendary outdoor photographer Bill Stevenson. My post-surgery knee kept me timid while dust on rocks coverage kept the athletes falling on themselves and risking it in December. Even though it was dumping - the snow just wasn't deep enough. At least Bill came away with some shots I can submit.

Luke, Andy, Mitch, Ben and other great friends from Reno took me out for drinks that night at Reno's Biggest Little City Club followed by a brief stop at 

My buddy Blake came down to Reno amidst the first storm Friday night to pick me up and head back to King's Beach and crash at his house for the night. Good plan. We got about another foot at lake level overnight and the snow took a break that morning to allow us to get to the mountain. That break, in reality, was incredibly short - so short it was more like a glimmer of sunshine for a few minutes. Then the snow resumed and continued to pound the mountains.

Best day of the year so far - and it's still only mid December. Not too shabby. I stepped it up a little too big sending it a bit more than 20 feet. Wasn't the wisest move, but I just wanted to feel out the new JJs - which are by far the best skis I've been on thus far. I missed hte ARGs a bit in the fresh pow, but for everything else it was JJ coming through - especially in the chop and crud. That skis just makes it happen!

I did one more day at Alpine w/ Luke, Andy, Ben and Mitch - which by the way are about the funnest doods you can roll anywhere w/. Partying my face off with them my second night in Reno was no exception to my previous statement. Unfortunately we split ways early on when I met up w/ Rory "The Reno Quake" Clements. Rory, Blake and I got after it for a while before that 20+footer started to catch up w/ my knee. I called it early and tended to the developing debacle of planning that became of my story at Kirkwood. We left the mountain w/ a 70-percent chance of things going close to what I intended.

Later that evening I realized the whole thing was going to implode aside from our lodging and one day's worth of passes. Rory, Blake and I hit up beers on the way to Kirkwood and ended up meeting up w/ Mandi-with-an-I. She's the girl from the Line Mothership ski. That's right - she's the one holding up the boombox. We hung out for a bit and drank a bunch of cheap beer before calling a night.

About four hours later I woke to the sounds of explosives ripping out snow in the zones we were supposed to ski. Being that the whole story imploded - I just skied around w/ Annie and Bill after his amazing photo shoot w/ KC in the permantly-closed Cirque. Despite the whole story falling through, we had an awesome time.

We all skipped skiing the last day and headed north to Truckee where I stayed the night w/ Bill and Annie in their new condo. What a beautiful place.

Just before bed I called to verify my flight status out of McChord. Good thing cause they canceled my flight and I had to purchase one out of Reno. Disaster averted and I was on  the plane the following morning.

Now I'm sorting through my notes and interviews to get something up on the skiing website. Only problem is that it's bedtime and I'm out of gas. Ugh. Maybe one story...

A Moment's Notice

 KC was turning to walk out my front door when he snickered and half-kiddingly said I should come w/ him back to Reno.

So I did.

And I pitched four stories to my editor - three of which were picked up and now I'm on assignment. Then I got the forecast for flights from Travis Air Force Base near Sacramento to McChord Air Force Base near Olympia. Looks like I'm in luck - knock on wood. KC drove from Oly to Bend, Ore., where we met w/ Rage Films' Dan Norkunas and his girlfriend Amy at the Deschutes Brewery.

We stayed the night at Dan's house in frigid Bend where the regional temperatures dipped below -25 Fahrenheit. They were still about -10 degrees this morning as we left to check out the very impressive
Rage Films offices/studios. They have everything from administrative offices to corporate conference meeting rooms and complete green screen room w/ 20-foot ceilings to a complete music recording studio. Rage has everything any media professional could ask for.

From Rage it was onward to Reno. KC ponied up to drive the entire leg while I attempted to get work done tethering internet from my iPhone - which worked surprisingly well considering we were somewhere between rural Oregon and rural California and Nevada.

And about 36 hours after 30 minutes worth of planning I'm here in Reno and ready to go. First big snow storm is scheduled for Saturday into Sunday. Nailed it yet again!

The End of the Beginning

As his world crumbled around him - he stood atop the stoop in downtown Washington D.C. - clearly intoxicated and boldly proclaimed how he was meant for bigger and better things.

Staring up at the high-rise buildings and central power of the nation's capitol - he wasn't just drunk and spewing random garbage. He was serious. He was dead serious - and from 1999 to now it finally took its course. What a struggle it's been for him. His friends and colleagues were all moving forward onto the places of their design - but not him. The road less traveled became his advantage. That road of ridicule, chastise and alienation is the strength of the thread that holds his life in balance.

So tonight I thought of him. I toasted a glass to success tonight, but my real toast was to that 19-year-old kid. Because he was right and he deserves nothing less. Yesterday and today are those days he imagined where his ideas not only mattered, but made a difference. If there was a dream come true - these past two day were it. Thanks to that kid whose energy, passion and commitment surpassed everyone's. The best part is - it's all just getting started.

At A Store Near You

Go ahead and grab that issue of Freeskier. Open up to the travel section and check out the story about Mt. Baker. I wrote that.




Across North America (and probably some other locations) people are picking up that very same issue and thumbing through my story. What a feeling.

Sadly, it's been about three years since I walked into the Tahoe City Albertsons with Wendy, grabbed the latest Powder Magazine and pointed to my name in it.

I didn't realize how great and beneficial that experience is. Authors love seeing their bylines and names in books for lots of reasons. The most common reason I suppose is vindication - some editor (credible writer) thinks my work is good. The. There's the fueled ego. This is where the author's head swells as large as their ego. Both of those reasons are long in the past for me.

This time feels like no other before. This time I've proven to myself I can still do it. This time I know I can write a better piece if I put more effort in. Now I truly know what it means to put on the kind of effort required for the kind of product I want.

It's been a long four years since I created quality magazine copy - long enough to doubt my ability to ever do it again.

I needed this. I needed this positive energy and forward motion to produce more positivity and forward motion.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Relax - It's Just the Holidays

Seriously. What should be the happiest season of the year turns into the most stressful time of year as we overcomplicate things.

Well there's something to be said by complicating the holidays w/ a knee surgery. What I genuinely believed would be a hinderence is turning out to be like a vacation at home. I've spent the last three days sitting on my ass w/ Vicodin and Oxycodone. And even though I'm on a vacation to the couch via lethargia, I'm getting all kinds of work done and not getting worked up in the process.

Now I'm not much of a social creature in this condition, but things are going by just slow enough to digest while not getting too excited to use my new lower limb.

Then there's the stress of my concern about the long-term effects of my knee injury. A lot more than just skiing rides on my knee. My career and health ride on it too. I've been so sedated w/ these pain meds I can't even begin to digest how dangerous this all is to my career. One bad knee can sink everything.

On that note - things are still looking good. I've managed to stay afloat w/ my work at Hayter PR and even expanding to new clients like Evolve Chile and a couple others left unnamed. The Navy is coming along as well as I've been offered an AT in Cambodia for two weeks this summer.

Heli skiing in Washington, skiing in Whistler, one week in Tahoe, two weeks in New York and Vermont (w/skiing), two weeks + in Chile and two weeks in Cambodia - suffice to say 2010 is shaping up quite nicely.

Reporting From LaLa Land

There's something to be said about writing while high. Actually there's quite a bit to say in this case.

I just got back from my knee surgery a couple hours ago. As my earlier blog post described - I went in to have a 9mm-long piece of foreign debris removed from my right knee. The piece has been floating around my joint for at least five years now.

We're not exactly sure where the piece came from. However wholeheartedly believe it is from a dislocation I suffered around March of 2004.

I underwent surgery for the injury with a doctor I really didn't like or trust, but I was on the Navy's dollar and feared further chastising/harassment if I didn't just follow through w/ surgery. The doctor's bedside manner was atrocious and he repeatedly tried convincing me there was nothing wrong w/ my knee - even though it occasionally and inconsistently swelled to the size of a grapefruit after or during physical activity like running or sometimes skiing.

Having already undergone corrective surgery on my right knee - I was familiar w/ the recovery procedure. This time was a bit different though. Rather than feel relief in the joint, I felt pressure. Also, as I began physical therapy and bending, I could feel some kind of muscle protrusion from the underside of my lower-inside quadricep. That muscle never grew back despite my working hard at it and within a few months I began to notice this protrusion moved around. Since then, I've always had a loose piece float around in my knee.

It broke free and moved around for the 05,06,07,08,09 and what felt like again yesterday.

I had an MRI a couple weeks back showing the foreign body at the back of my knee in what appeared to be a fluid sack.

Well Dr. Helpenstell didn't find the object, but found lots of arthritis and smaller debris which he feels is generated when my knee cartilage is forced to rub together. He vigorously searched for the large piece, but couldn't find it.

I'm hoping what he sucked out of the joint was the remnants of that 9mm-long piece - having smashed it to smitherenes yesterday while shredding pow at Crystal. If not - I'm up for another surgery. Let's just hope we get it.

Here's what an arthritic knee looks like - and at 29 years old...

Mr Fix It

You'll notice I'm not skiing in this picture taken at Crystal Mountain yesterday.

And after four days of skiing this season - I won't be skiing for at least another month.

That's because I'm headed for the hospital and knee surgery #3. Trust me when I say there are better hobbies than counting your knee surgeries.

This is my pledge to myself and every other poor sap who's had to deal w/ me being too out-of-shape to ski with.

I'm not only going to do all of my physical therapy, but get into shape in the process. Honestly, there are a lot of other people who have injuries and machine their way through rehab. Why haven't I?

So Dr. Helpenstell is going to fix my knee and I'm going to fix the rest.

Now everyone knows why I'm going to be a bit out of touch for the next week or so.

Charging The Batteries

I decided rather than join Lindsay and Hannah at Costco with Lindy, I'd have a fresh beer at the Fish Tale.

My plug near the fake fireplace was occupied and I felt obligated to chat w/ its occupier about the differences between his new droid phone and my new iPhone. My laptop expired while chatting and now I get to use my iPhone to blog since I can't work.

Good news is I get to screw off and have a good beer (or two) for a while. That seems to charge my batteries.

Now if those people would just leave so I can have that plug!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

No Shame in My Game

The more I do this the easier it gets - shamelessly plugging myself of course.

What used to seem conceited or egocentric is now part of my daily routine of writing about myself and airing out probably more than I should in order to maintain an active online presence and personality.

But there's something undeniably cool about walking into Barnes and Noble, picking up a magazine and reading your own story. It's even better when someone else does it and you get to watch their reaction. That's the best.

The last time I did this was back at Powder in 2005, so getting back in the game is really rewarding. I've got four stories coming out this season in ski magazines. Factor that plus the Navy work and I'd say it's been quite the productive year - probably my best ever.

So go grab the latest issue of Freeskier Magazine. Read my piece about Mt. Baker. I promise it's a goody!

Lastly, there's something very satisfying about life in general right now. It's taken a lot of work to get here, will take more to maintain this level and even more to move to the next level. In due time I suppose.

Maybe that entry the other night about going the distance is ringing true. The struggles associated w/ getting these stories into print are finally over. In many ways it's difficult to sit back and appreciate this achievement while trying to hard to get more for next year.

I suppose it's time to sit down, watch my new ski video and drink a beer. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Opening Day

The best I can remember, November or December 1994 was my first opening day experience.

I felt and looked great with new gear I got from mom and dad. We went to Dave Jones Sports in Kingston, Ontario for my first real complete setup - K2 SX Extreme Skis w/ Rossignol race boots and Tyrolia bndings.

Opening Day came at Dry Hill and I was there - and three to four days every week thereafter.

Every opening day since has been a high point in the year.

15 years later the phenomenon continues. Read about it as the cover story of yesterday's Yakima Herald - opening day of truly sharing my life's passion w/ the people I love most.

Read about it here!

The Big Test

I was sitting here in my Navy Lodge hotel room last night with no internet on this computer. In a move of complete desperation, I turned to the television. Rather than watch The Godfather III on AMC, which I was a bit too tired to jump into, I turned to UFC on Spike.



As many of you know, this is anything but normal for me. But it got me thinking about life and going the distance again. These two fighters were pummeling the hell out of each other. It’s really brutal, but I found some respect for both of them because there’s a certain dedication involved with trudging on.

And it’s that very reason I’m writing this morning. I don’t want to write. I’m fresh out of ideas. My give-a-damn’s depleted and that jeopardizes a lot - just like if there were an opponent waiting for this kind of vulnerability to take a shot.

Sometimes fighters just keep going because they know exhaustion is temporary - as is the pain.

Relative to the UFC, suddenly cranking out words on a page suddenly doesn’t seem like too much of a challenge.

Coming Clean

I have to admit, the main purpose of this entry it to make an entry.

Just to add some substance, I'll go over some things that keep me working rather than blogging.

First thing is all next year's press releases for K2. There are a ton of them and correspondingly a ton of skis to learn about. I wrote a lot about each ski for Armada and now a I write a little about a lot of skis.

Next was K2 Skates, then Lindsay coming home, our house warming party, finishing up the house, following up on Navy items (including the pressure to drop my commissioning package), strategy for my ski industry career, new clients, MRI for upcoming knee surgery, networking trips to Seattle, meetings in Seattle w/ K2, Ski Washington and evo, social time, a new garage door - the list just goes on.

The new focus is turning to this ski season. I feel a sudden motivation ot make the most out of it - basically ski more and charge harder than I have in years. Something just feels different - or maybe it feels more familiar.

I've got the rest of 29 to prepare for the big 30.

New York Yankees

Mariano Rivera is about to throw the last fast ball of the American League Championship Series against the Angels.

Mariano, Jeter, ARod, Petit - it's the house these guys built.

Long live the dynasty!

The iPhone Blog

Here,s the first blog from. The new iPhone.

Lets just say 21st-century life is incredible.

Lindsay loves hers so too, so that means we'll be keeping them.

Please stand by while I get used to this incredible piece of technology.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Yorkturgon!

I try not to write about Hannah very often. Tonight was just way too incredible not to.

Hannah is my 4-year-old daughter - of course my favorite person. She is undeniably the most incredible kid in the world. Not only is she gorgeous, but her quirky and incredibly genuine and pleasing disposition forces anyone she meets to fall in love with her - instantly.

Take tonight for example. We did our weekly shopping at Trader Joe's. A woman stocking the shelves actually remembered us because of how Hannah told everyone she met there about how great her daddy makes her ponytails. And it's all genuine. Tonight she had her own Hannah-sized shopping cart and explained to everyone how much she loves it. And everyone, even the most ornery Olympia hipster, immediately changed to a happier person - something she does to me every day.

Well tonight I finally got to meet her new friend Yorkturgon. That's what she named him - right after she made him up.

We thought she made up Yorkturgon a few weeks ago while we were in Portland, but then she started calling one of her dolls Yorkturgon. As of tonight - she started talking to Yorkturgon, introduced him to me and then had a tea party and picnic here in the living room.

Just another reason why having a kid is the coolest thing to happen in my life.

Choose One

Do I really have to?

I keep telling myself I can defy the laws of reason and maturity by believing I can have my cake and eat it too.

There are worse decisions to make and definitely worse situations to be in - I've been in plenty of them. And by that I mean having no opportunities to pursue what I love.

Balance is the solution. Finding that balance between all the things I love is the challenge. Everyone faces some form of the same challenge.

Sometimes I wish there were waypoints you could save along the path of life - points where we could reset the game and start over again from. This point would be one of them.

Maybe what I should realize is how good things are going right now. Yeah - that's it.

Big Ups!

Here's a KC Deane/Joe Briggs Collaboration in the latest issue of The Ski Journal. Read more about it on KC's blog:
www.kcdeane.com

Not Quite Like The Greatest

  I love the feeling of a good win - false as it might be.

Work is really starting to ramp up and I haven't had a lot of time lately to just chill. This coming week will be no diferent.

I set up my old Playstation and Sega Genisis the other day as I was unpacking the rest of my office. And there they were - all the games I'd spent countless hours hacking away at while I should have been studying. I couldn't resist.

They're so much cooler now because I still know the games by heart! Beat the game in one sitting - no problem. Then you remember how hard it was to beat this guy and how it used to piss you off.

"Well not this time Mike Tyson - your ass is mine cause I'm sooo good now!!!"

And it really does make me feel better.

Truth is, I know there's a sequel to that game that could destroy my Lil' Mac character.

All this made me think about my career. It's easy to feel good about winning things we know we can win. Beating Iron Mike is easy if you've done it before. But going back to the games I didn't beat and either beating them or learning how is what truly makes us better.

It Really is a Song Title

So for some reason when I tell people we just moved to Olympia, Washington, their first response is increasingly referring to some song that someone like Courtney Love did about this place.

Well yes - it's true. Courtney Love made up some lyrics about this place - although I'm pretty sure she never really did go to school here. Her late husband lived here for a while and I think that's gotta be what started the indie hipster scene here.

Anyhow, we like it here - no matter what Courtney Love said about it. I will give her this - all the "different" kids are really all the same the more they try to be different.

I found the lyrics to that song. It really does exist and isn't half bad.

When i went to school in Olympia and everyone's the same
And so are you in Olympia and everyone's the same
We look the same, we talk the same
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Won't you please make me real oh no
Make me real oh no
Make me real oh no
Hurt me
I went to school with Calvin
Hey, hey, hey, hey
And what do you do with a revolution
I went to school in Olympia
Baby, baby, baby, baby
And everyone's the same
And so are you in Olympia
Won't you please make me real, make me sick
Make me real, make it stick
Make me real
Do it for the kids some more
Fascist sexists
I went to school in Olympia
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Dr. Muir Wrote the VW Bible

This book came w/ my Westfalia. I read the first 100 pages in one sitting. That's gotta be some sort of record as I usually don't make it through the prologue.

I'll be researching within it for the cause of my fire although I think it was covered in the 100 pages I read. Author Dr. John Muir says the fastest way to burn up your aircooled VW is to drive it in too high of a gear around town. He specifically uses the third gear at 30 mph scenario. 

I have a sneaking suspicion Charlie Brown (not me) was running his motor too hard in too high of a gear. However, it was the only way it would even hold even close to a highway speed - all of 45 mph in 4th gear.

Here's my thesis - the aircooled van was overheating because the fan, which runs off the crank shaft, was not spinning fast enough to cool the motor. It doesn't explain what made the  engine compartment spew flames.

Chuck's new doctor, Bill at German Engineering in Olympia, suspects a wiring problem - basically a short that caused the motor to respond the way it did and finally caused the spark. He also suspects he can resurrect Chuck.

I wonder what the late Dr. Muir would have to say about trying to resurrect Charlie Brown.

"And the Flames Went Higher"

I didn't realize it was buring till I pulled over on the side of the road.

^This poor Westy didn't make it. Luckily that's not mine.

Just an hour before hand I'd picked Hannah up from school with Charlie Brown as promised. No sooner had I opened the door and she ran to the van, stretched out her arms and gave it as best a hug someone can - especially for a four-year-old.

Now Chuck was running a little bad as we left Aberdeen for the new house in Olympia - packed up with Lindsay's new iMac and most of our more valued posessions. I had to get the van up to Oly so I could work on the fuel starving issue. Basically it wouldn't take but a few gallons at the pump and then spew the rest.

I stopped about 1/4 of the way to Olympia to fill up my extra gas tank. I carry two extra gallons since the gas gauge is broken. One mile back on the highway poor Chuck could hardly hold 40 mph, so I stopped to let him cool down and breathe a bit.

Hannah wanted to know what was going on and so did I. No sooner had I noticed flames coming from the motor and tail pipe, jumped back inside, snatched her out - all while thinking about the fresh two gallons of gas sitting directly above the motor/fire.

I could have faught the fire w/ Hannah's tears as she cried for Charlie Brown, "he getting fired Daddy, Charlie Brown is buring all up!"

All our stuff and beloved Westfalia were going up in flames till a motivated citizen stopped to help out. I told him to leave the damn thing alone because of that gas, but he managed to use a balled up sweatshirt to get the back hatch open and removed the motor cover.

Just then, the first of two cops showed up w/ functioning fire extinguishers and hit the motor.

"Boy you're lucky we got that thing out," he said as flames started coming out of the dash board vents.

That's when he covered my dash and seat w/ fire retardant. I cringed as Hannah happily thanked the officers and firemen for saving her Charlie Brown. Maybe seeing things from Hannah's perspective is the best for this situation.

Chuck is now at the VW hospital of German Engineering here in Olympia. Bill, my new mechanic, says he can bring Charlie Brown back to life again. Actually, he used the term "resurrect."

Good thing.

The Attacks in Bremerton

Millions of people are recounting what they were doing this day, and likely this time, eight years ago.

Well I was here at Naval Station Kitsap (then called Naval Station Bremerton) - better yet trying to get here. The lines were three hours long. All anyone was trying to do was get to work knowing we were under attack. All anyone checking ID cards at the gate was trying to do was keep people out. It was a mess.

Right about this hour, Ryan Hicks, Barb Silkwood, Dave Rush and myself were glued to the television on board USS Abraham Lincoln in the ship yards here. Ironically Lincoln is currently back at the same berthing it was that day, and the public affairs staff is likely doing that very same thing this morning.

Just before the second tower fell - Dave Rush ordered us to turn off the "idiot box" and get back to work. He felt getting out the ship's newspaper was top priority. I'll never forget that as much as I won't forget the towers coming down and wondering if the attacks would continue to include our ship - the only aircraft carrier paralyzed in the ship yards.

Even as we turned back to work, I never realized how many lives the attacks would affect beyond the people who died that day - let alone my own. Lindsay and I got married less than a week later because of it. I couldn't listen to fireworks w/out thinking about attacks. I immediately began serving during war time. Of course the list goes on. Even today, I came back here to this base to be here because of what happened then.

Seeing the USS Abraham Lincoln in the yards and USS John C. Stennis pierside rotating radars tells me things are different for those Sailors. Now we're all either just waiting or expecting.

Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap: Van Jones Scent

America can learn a lot from Van Jones by learning a little about that crazy guy who keeps you tingly in the shower and wrote that label you read while on the can. (Click to enlarge the photo).

Dr. Bronner was an incredibly eccentric dood. He descended from a long line of German Jew soapmakers and continued his family's tradition here in the states.

Among other notables, Dr. Bronner was diagnosed as insane and admitted to an asylum, although he just had a different take on people, life and spirit.

This is America, and he's allowed to be as eccentric or crazy as he wants to be. No matter how much he felt we needed to subscribe to the Moral ABCs, wake up and respect God's spaceship Earth and our brothers and sisters as well, it never interfered w/ his making kick-ass all-natural soap.

Millions of people still use his his now infamous castile soap for a myriad of applications - from bath soap to laundry detergent and toothpaste to carpet cleaner. Most people don't agree with his views, but he made some seriously awesome soap.

Well the same can be said for Van Jones. Mr. Jones' ideology is as radical as they come. He is not a politician by any means. He is an activist. After having studied Van Jones before he was appointed to Green Jobs, I could understand this. His radical and fresh ideas were just what this failing economy, built upon unhealthy and unsustainable practices needed - and now was perfect timing.

Things are changing as we rebuild our economy. Infusing more environmentally friendly practices makes sense. Creating jobs for displaced blue-collar workers makes sense. Creating new industries to help this country in the short and long terms makes sense. Cleaning up our industries is good.

I'm buying what he's selling when it comes to green jobs. But that doesn't mean I have to buy into everything he does or believes.

After all, we're all one trying to save God's spaceship Earth right? Maybe Dr. Bronner wasn't so nuts afterall.

The Edge of Never

 Eric Iberg hit me up the other day w/ an idea. How bout' premiering this movie in Olympia at the Capitol Theater. The answer is yes - because the very people in this story impacted my life so much.

One of the first things I remember from my first big ski assignment was meeting then Powder Magazine Editor Derek Taylor early 2004.

DT and I shared a couple beers and he told me about this kid running around. He was the son of the big-mountain pioneer and legend Trevor Petersen.

That was the definitive point where I knew the skiing world was something I'd be involved with for the rest of my life.

Trevor, like many other mountain men, died skiing the mountains he loved so much. His son Kye was not left alone afterward. Rather, he was proudly raised by his mother and father's friends and admirers - including a very proud Derek Taylor.

I admired DT's sincerity and commitment and agreed to work at his magazine the following year where Kye started showing up in ads, photos and stories.

All eyes have been on Kye as he matures into one of the most talented skiers on the planet. He teamed up with the late Peter Jennings and author Bill Kerig to produce a documentary of his journey to the very same run that claimed his father.

He is joined by his father's friends - ski legends Glen Plake and Mike Hattrup, Eric Pehota and others to go after a dream. Who isn't inspired by that?

So I'll be trying to put this showing together over the next few weeks. Wish me luck and come to the show!

Really Simple Syndication (stoopid!)

Well that's what RSS stands for - Really Simple Syndication.

And I finally got it working for this here blog thanks in no small part to Mr. Craig Wheeler. He found my silly error and now we're rolling!

You've probably seen this nice little icon all over the place and wondered what it is. Well it's how you subscribe to blogs. You click that little sucker wherever you see it and VOILA!

Now you get your favorite blogs (like Motion) fed to you every day.

Anyone w/ a Gmail account already has one of these in place. So just click that orange RSS icon and it will run you through the process. Then go to your Gmail homepage and look at the options across the top of the page. You'll see one called Reader. Click it. You can use that reader to view all your RSS feeds.

If you don't already have Gmail, I highly recommend it - no attachment size limits, chat, nearly unlimited storage and a plethora of other awesome stuff. Did I forget to mention the best spam filters?

RSS is great in the way it gives each of us the ability to publish our work. It's also a great way to get news and check up on your favorite sites w/out spending hours surfing and remembering through your bookmarks.

"Jezuz Doc!"

It seems to be happening to everyone.

You come home from work (actually you're probably doing it at work). You log on to Facebook and find one of those nice little friend requests. Who could it be?

"Holy shit!"

It's the ol' blast from the past. That's where you experience the phenomenon of having known someone very well and then drifted. Lots of time and space have come between you two. Then you reconnect.

Whammo! Here it comes!

You either think of how you remember this person or are slammed with something you've long forgotten. It might even be the person themselves you've forgotten. But you're back in touch now and you have Facebook to thank for it.



That's just the beginning. Wait till you start to check in w/ some of these folks you might as well have known in a former life. Each of you has specific memories of each other. Sharing those memories and how we viewed them when they occurred and and how we feel about them now is really cool, but definitely not new. What is new is how often it's happening to people like me - and there are apparently a lot of us.

A recent MediaPost.com story cites more than 250 million Facebook user accounts. What are the chances this phenomenon will not only increasingly occur, but change how we interact with people we know or knew over our lifespans?

Here's my take. The reconnect phenomenon will happen on a regularly common basis over the next few years. Then it will peak and increasingly become less common. There will be fewer people we knew and more we know. I'm not sure beyond that, but I'm intrigued to see it develop over time. That means far fewer people will be wondering, "whatever happened to (insert disconnected person here)?"

The internet can easily be tagged the most prolific invention of our generation. I truly believe that is in no small way part of the Facebook Effect.

Stepping Out Into the World

Just about everyone who reads this blog, all you more than 50 unique visitors, gets out and about the web.

Hell, you're all probably on Facebook and even link to this blog because of it. Some of you Twitter and even fewer of you walk the rope with your own websites and blogs.


Many of you know I now work for Seattle-based PR firm Hayter Communications. One of my responsibilities there is to generate media contact lists. It's an absolutely tedious, but incredibly interesting task - especially when you start to explore the sites of interest to my clients.

Today was like taking my first walk out in my neighborhood - even though I've lived there for more than a decade.

I'm talking about sites like Modern Drunkard Magazine Online. Believe it or not, this is actually a top-20 market magazine and site. That basically means a lot of people regularly read, and most likely, enjoy it in some capacity. Jump on there and tie one on or think about tying one on or reminisce about your best (and worst) times tying one on. Pass it on to someone else who likes (or dislikes) tying one on.

Then there's the ethnic sites - Asian, African American, Norwegian, Jewish, etc... The list goes on. There are even sites that revolve around the art of sex and the art of weaponry. There's a high-end market for everything, including many online magazines for the more "affluent" members of our society.

I highly recommend jumping on Technorati and searching out a blog w/ your interest. Subscribe! Use your Burner or Google Reader for RSS feeds and get your geek on! There's a lot of information out there. Just go take a walk around your neighborhood.

Thanks for the Dreams Facebook

It's gone - gone from my dreams and gone in reality.

But the memories and people from USS Sacramento live on. For me lately, it's been in the form of old shipmates searching me out on Facebook. At this point, it wouldn't surprise me to get a call, email or friend request from anyone I ever met from any point in time. Lots of you are likely experiencing something similar.


Call it globalization or whatever you will. I call it pretty freakin' cool.

And all the recent incredibly mind-boggling changes in my life mixed with this Facebook globalization phenomenon to open a time capsule of memories in my mind. The capsule's content is emptied out while I sleep.

Last night's dream was about my time living in Ruskin, Florida circa 1989-90. I was 9/10 years old and in 4th and 5th grade. It was filled with the ups and downs of any childhood. Last night I met people whose names I'd forgotten more than 20 years ago. This morning I remember a name - Starr. How does that happen?

Many people would be petrified or bothered by these dreams as I was at first. But, much like the Facebook globalization phenomenon, I'm fascinated by it.

As for the USS Sacramento dreams - I believe they're done. Three nights ago we ran drills on her. The entire old crew was manning the ship through the most intense series of GQ drills I could imagine - from refueling while firing all weapons to heavy seas and fighting real fires in the main space. Everyone was very well aware we were putting the ship to rest soon and trained it accordingly by capsizing to see if it could recover - which it did. Then we ran it into the pier to show the crew what a collision would be like.

My most vivid memory of the dream is hanging on to a receiving station on the 02 level while the ship violently rolled before capsizing. I don't know why that stood out so strong to me.

Lastly, we saved the ship and sailed herbadly beaten and nearly sunken body off into the sunset on her way to the scrap yard in Texas. Everyone on the entire ship was just happy we could all do what we thought we could do - all while being so proud of our ship. We celebrated a bitter sweet goodbye.

In reality, the Navy sold her to a ship yard in Texas, where yard birds finally took the torch to her in late 2007. A local photographer snapped this photo of the Sac moored up behind her sister ship USS Camden (AOE 2).

Craigslist: Free Brilliant Writing

Today was exceptionally slow. Then it came to a stop while interwebbing away during my glorious work study at Worksource Grays Harbor.

I ran across this wonderfully articulated piece in the most unlikely place - craigslist.org. It was in the "Best of Craigslist" section, which I highly recommend you check out. But check out this one first.




Here's a little intro to the piece. Click anywhere in the text to read the rest.

An Apology To Veterans and Seniors

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Date: 2009-07-11, 8:29AM PDT

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I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to two groups of Americans: our military veterans, and all senior citizens who are members of the World War II era, also known as The Greatest Generation. I want to apologize for myself and my generation not doing our part to be more like you. You sacrificed, took risks, did without, and delayed gratification of one sort or another for a cause greater than yourselves.

My generation and the rest of the American population has been rather cowardly ...

Check Out This Gem!

Here's a little gem from my first trip to Thailand - circa 1999. I was nine months fresh out of boot camp and one year out of high school.















Not sure how obvious it is - but I'm wasted beyond belief in this photo on the liberty boat back to my ship. I was one of the hundreds from my ship in the same shape.

This is what I spent both my first and second trips doing in Thailand. I was 19 years old and behaving accordingly. That had nothing to do w/ cultural enrichment, taking pictures or doing anything to better myself or the place I was at. The above photo is all the evidence I have from those trips.

It was my goal to do things differently this time.

Mission accomplished.

Perspective Change

I'm having the most incredibly creative and vivid dreams every night. This strikes me as odd because normally I either don't remember my dream or am blown away by how real or scary the dream was.

But these dreams are neither. They aren't limited to anything - a talking bull who really thinks I (and all humans) would have a better relationship with cows if we didn't think they were so stupid. How about the multiple ones ranging from living in suburban New Jersey or Florida to rural New York or Sierra Mountains and even some at-sea living. And the people are, with no consistency, people I've met from anywhere in my entire life to people I've either never met or cannot remember. None of these dreams have much to do with anything current either.

The oddest thing about any of this is how I'm not afraid or disturbed by the dreams as they're happening. There have been many pretty gnarly graphic dreams about gory traffic accidents and such, but I'm reasonably cool as can I be.

Even when I wake up, which was many times each night during the heat wave, I fall back asleep and got another one every time.

And when I wake in the morning for the last time, the only thing grabbing my attention is the clarity and my rational approach to each dream.

This all started in Thailand. Kind of makes sense. It was as prolific of an experience as any I've had in my life in so many ways. Read back if you need proof. Let's not forget a lot of memories from a lot of people were resurrected just by being there. Those dreams in Thailand weren't that surprising - but now I'm not really sure.

I have a great theory about this. Now, I'm far from qualified to be certain about this - it's just a hypothesis w/out professional input on the situation.

My mind, more specifically subconscious, has been like a piggy bank over my life. Every memory I don't hold onto goes into it somewhere. After about 30 years, it's starting to fill up. Actually it might be full. Kind of feels that way.

Anywho, it's time to take everything out and start sorting it. Or maybe it's like dirty laundry and my brain just finally needs some new underwear. Time to start going through the dirty laundry.

Well let's say you turn your piggy bank or laundry chute upside down and want stuff to come out. Stuff's been piling up in there for decades and now it's pretty compacted. You have to do something pretty drastic to get things flowing. But once it breaks - it all comes rushing out.

And that's what's happening to me every night and I'm catching bits and pieces of the more interesting coins or laundry pieces as they fall out of the chute. Well now it's flowing fast and lots is coming out.

All in all, it's a good thing. Because we can all stand to clean up our own dirty laundry piles. Just how much dirty laundry (or money) could be in here?

Take it on the Chin

There's something to be said for picking your battles. It's an art - and a particularly painful one.

The fundamental idea behind this for me is achieving my goals w/out making it more difficult than it has to be. Picking your battles is a very simple idea, but a very difficult action. It requires you to trade long-term drama for a short ass kicking. Just when it's done pummeling your pride, it's time to start on your confidence and finally your mindset. And that's where your inner strength has to come through.

The idea is to take the hit right on the chin - effectively defying your life-long training to avoid this kind of stuff. I've seen this work for a lot of people so I'm trying it.

Here's how it's supposed to go - you let the person spend their energy trying to beat you down while you start looking beyond them. You walk right by them once they're out of energy. This is the point where you hope all your preparation and training comes through. It's a new and different approach for me.

After all, wasn't it Einstein who said doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity?

Old Habit: New Location

On location at Westhaven State Park in Westport, Washington, I'm officially toast. I've just got nothing left to give.

The sun is out, the waves are still crashing and I'm typing up a blog in Chuck, our Westy. I just had a Seattle-based surfer, Melinda, take my photo as evidence I actually donned my wetsuit and brought my surfboard to beach.

You'll have to take my word when I say I caught the first wave I paddled into and that it was my first wave in about four years.

Then the waves started crashing in three different directions and I could hardly get through the white water and shore break. Being out of shape, I got worked and had to hang it up.

But I'll be back - very soon.

Daniel Joseph Riccardo...

Has arrived!

Congratulations Jill and Dan. I can only imagine what it took both of you to make it through this pregnancy. I guess that's your introduction to parenting. But you're done with that phase and now and your little person is here.

Lindsay and I hope you both are enjoying every second of this first lap his race to grow up too quick!

Home

Here's a different balcony shot.

It's the Elephant Buddha I bought for the house - now at the house. It's supposed to bring prosperity. I think I already found it though.















My Thailand trip ended the way they began - in first class.

By the time I got to Dallas, I'd spent about the last 24 hours on an airplane in the same clothes, smelled like it and even worse - looked like it. So when I asked the guy at the counter for some sympathy he slid me into first class for the last two legs of the trip. Sure beat sleeping face-down on my tray table for hours on the first two flights.

What should have been a simple departure very early July 19, turned into a five-day nightmare of trying to get out of Bangkok back to Portland, only to get the most miserable flight out possible.

My first mistake was trying to reason why someone would purchase the following itinerary for a guy trying to get to Oregon: Bangkok to Seoul (8 hours), Seoul to Dallas (14 hours), Dallas to Salt Lake City (3 hours) and finally on to Portland for an additional 2.5 hours.

Nonetheless I made it home. And even w/ the departure fiasco of being chained to my computer and arguing w/ authority for some consideration over a five-day out-of-pocket extended stay in Bangkok, followed by my awesome flight series home - I still wouldn't have traded this trip.

It still stands as the experience of a lifetime. Now that I'm home all the details are starting to set in. My revived Navy career stands at the forefront of the realizations.

Nearly every night since I landed in Thailand I've had vivid dreams of the USS Sacramento and my first trips there - or at least some variation of them. It seemed as though the memories I left there were happy to see me again and rushed me at night.

Even today at the veggie market here in Aberdeen, I heard the Rolling Stones' "Ruby Tuesday." The memory faucet came on, this time bringing a feeling and a mind state. If this trip did nothing but brought back a feeling I loved so much, then it was worth it.

The real challenge now is trying to keep that feeling alive. You'd think it were easy being such a part of who I am and how I love to be. But it's not. Reality challenges me at every turn. Luckily I'm going back this time next year.

Also - I crashed my helicopter! We suffered a rear-rotor failure at about 150 feet. I caught a bad destabilizing gust, throwing me into downward spin. With no forward or aft movement capabilities, we struck the ground at terminal speeds. Luckily, no one was injured. However the aircraft is severely damaged and out of commission till I can find a hobby shop.

Bummer...

Hello From Korea

Thais spoil you and that makes being here in Korea a sad culture shock of an experience. No more vibrant people and colorful sights to be had.

It's clear to me the Koreans at this airport could give a shit less if you're here - let alone happy or not. The woman who made my coffee was the only smile out of the hundreds I've smiled to.

It all kind of hit me when I was at the counter here at this internet cafe near my terminal. A woman was trying to pay for a phone card with American dollars. She only had six singles or a hundred, but needed $8.

The woman behind the counter was about to turn her away before I reached for my credit card to pay the measily two-dollar difference.

The woman who needed the money turned to me, clasped her hands together, bowed her head and said, "kawp kun kah." That's how a woman says thank you in Thai. Then she gave me 100 baht and explained she was headed to the US to work for a dying man in Honolulu. She couldn't have been more appreciative.

The woman behind the counter seemed floored at what just happened between us. I think the story says a lot.

Furthermore, while not a person here has even greeted me, I met all these wonderful kids just eight hours ago in Bangkok. Their teacher and I had such a great conversation we exchanged email addresses. These middle and high-school-age kids perform traditional Thai music and dance at the airport. It's absolutely beautiful. I hope to catch it when I return.

One More Time

Break out the wallet, passport, tripod, camera and Lonely Planet book one more time. Yet another day of waiting for the Navy to get me a ticket out of here means I've been cooped up in hotels, airports or more more hotels for the last three days. So that's it!

Time to find pork balls from street vendors and satisfy my new-found thirst for lemongrass and cilantro in soup.

Today's adventure will include Wat Phra Kew, the Grand Palace and some museums.

Kon Kub

That means good bye. It's incredibly difficult to say goodbye to this place - more specifically this trip.

I'll be frankly honest. I miss the hell out of my family, but I'm not at all excited about going back to Gray's Harbor, the worksource, my broken car, cramped house, money shortage, college or any of the other stresses I have in life.

Not wanting to leave here is less a matter of going back to reality or life in Grays Harbor as much as it is all the positive changes happening here for me on this trip and the opportunities I've taken advantage of.

Just like my previous trips here, Thailand has affected me in so many ways. Even with its sex-driven economy, notoriously dirty cities and less-than desired climate, the people and culture of this place are guaranteed to change your outlook on life. And in this case the change is for the better.

I chatted w/ an old buddy this evening about the previous trips to Thailand. Seems everyone wants to come back and I got to. If I came away with nothing else from this trip (which is definitely not the case) I would say I'm gracious to the Navy, people of this wonderful place and whoever else had a role in bringing me back here.

Umbrella!

That was today's recurring theme. I started my day off getting a free yellow umbrella from Western Union and gave it away to one of the Thais working here at the hotel. Then I found a whole new umbrella later in the night. I needed both umbrellas because when it rains it pours here - whether it's a monsoon or things going wrong w/ travel. Just another standard day in Thailand...

Sometimes you have excuses not to party. And I had a good one last night. My plane was leaving in just a few very short hours and I couldn't get all banged up and try to board my flight. But things changed when I called to verify my flight departure I learned I was actually going out a day later. So that was the point where I exchanged my excuse not to party for a pretty good excuse to party - not leaving Bangkok and hanging out w/ two hilarious Germans.















These two girls told me a bunch about German culture, from language, customs, geography, smoking and history to what it's like to live as a 20-something in Europe.

Above all I learned Germans freakin' love drinking their beer and love singing while they drink it even more.

I met Stefanie and Noed (I think that is her name - I'm terrible at that) outside the Elephant Bar here as I was checking the last box on my list of things to do while on vacation - have my fancy pants drink.














Now I rarely drink liquor, but I had to try the Thai whiskey. And it was surprisingly good on ice. The ice dilutes the liquor so it's easy to drink. No disappointment with my fancy pants drink, but I was dying for a cigarette and that's where I met the girls. I checked my flight status and got all the excuse I needed to have a great time.

Long story short, we drank very late and they spent most of the evening singing a song about an umbrella. It's really about being so drunk you look worse than the German prime minister, have a hole in your head where your brains fell out and can't function because you love your beer. I couldn't recite the first words they were telling me, due to no lack of effort on their part. But when Stefanie drew a pig and a dog I knew the word - schveinhoot. Sam Rosner used to call people that as some kind of revenge for antisemitism. Not sure what time we called it quits, but what a fantastic time.

Next time I'm drinking beer I'll be packed w/ stories and half-assed songs all thanks to my trip here to Thailand again.

Ciao! (That's German for goodbye)