La La Los Angeles

Sometimes you gotta get outta Dodge…even if Dodge is a picturesque little mountain town nestled between pretty amazing and kinda fabulous. Rough life we live here…I know, but sometimes you just gotta move. So, last week I hopped on a flight to LA. Now, LA is not my most favorite city in the world but a direct flight to anywhere other than Denver from Aspen is a bit of a luxury. So, away I went, to do all sorts of LA-y type things with my LA-y type friends. We ran on the beach, sat in bumper to bumper mid afternoon traffic for no damn reason, hung out with celebrity types in dive bars, took “circus arts” classes, went to museums and did the usual eating, drinking and being merry that comes with gatherings of good friends.

Alyssa took me to her favorite “circus arts” class… silks or silksing or whatever it’s called was all sorts of fun. We rolled into the TSNY in some 80′s jazzercise get up and flipped and twirled and climbed about on these flexie fun ropes, or, I guess I should say Alyssa (former flippy, spinny, college cheerleader) did. I just climbed around and listened to the instructor tell me to “make it look pretty” which might take this inflexible, graceless pony a few more tries. We also checked out the North American Women Surrealist exhibit at the LACMA….aaahmazing stuff. I mean, I do have a mild obsession with Frida Kahlo and her tortured artsy ways and well, for that matter, it appeared that every woman in the show was somewhat tortured…maybe we all are. Anyway, it’s worth a walk through and to check out my new fav, Alice Rahon. Her sketchy, misty little paintings have a new place in my heart and so does the LACMA.Frida…I feel you sister.

So yeah, a few action packed days of sun and friends and effin traffic and I was ready to return to my wintery shangri-la… at least for a few days.

xoxo t

PS.making it look not so pretty.

Remember When…2002 Olympics

Indulge me on a little stroll down memory lane…10 years ago this week or maybe last, 14 of your favorite shredders strolled into the opening ceremony of the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympic games. Wandering into the roar of a home country crowd, wide eyed and awe struck like most Olympians at the fruition of life long dreams and all that, but I’d say maybe even a little more so and more in disbelief than awe. Most of us had been snowboarding long enough to remember a time when we weren’t allowed on mountains much less in Olympic arenas and we’d all watched our sport battle over whether snowboarding should give up its reigns to skiing just to be in the Olympics. We’d all watched Terje, boycott the 98 Olympics and then, to our naïve dismay, watched the world mock snowboarding in the Olympics. New York Times articles likened us to the snow monkeys that climbed the trees beside the venue and late night TV hosts had a field day with Ross Rebagliati’s weed mishap…uhh, he didn’t inhale, I swear. Anyway, we were cooler than that and the old boys club of the Olympic jock system didn’t quite understand us. So, four years later our bunch of ruffian dirt bags dressed up like adults in an atrocious turtleneck-beret-pleated pant outfits strolled in to the Olympic games expecting more of the same.nothing says, “Team America” like a bunch of berets made by Roots…

But this time things were different. Regular people were kind of excited about this whole snowboardin’ thing and we were being used to promote Team USA in ad campaigns and on TV shows. Reporters showed up at the press conference and some of them actually knew what they were talking about and I even had one of those made for Olympic TV profile pieces done on me, complete with sad music and a heart wrenching tale of the death of my brother and triumph through tragedy and all that shit…I’m being glib, but unbeknownst to us, we were legit or about to be.Danbo amidst an old guy media frenzy. Heath, Ross and Foley…

Day two of the Olympics Kelly, Shannon and I compete and Kelly walks away with a gold medal, the first of the games. The following day Ross, Danny and JJ sweep the podium for the first time since 1952 or something and all of a sudden snowboarders are the new Olympic heroes. Insert movie montage of talk shows, cereal boxes, commercial deals, movie premiers and all that “I’m going to Disneyland” shit. Now, it’s kind of a no brainer, we expect that stuff and snowboarding is front and center in the Olympic space. People train to become Olympic snowboarders and win gold medals; our stars are household names or at least they love that flying tomato guy. But in 2002, what happened was totally unexpected. I mean, we knew snowboarding was cool and we had a solid crew of riders who could win any contest and personalities that could win over any crowd but we didn’t expect anyone to care, no one did before. blah blah blah. Anyway, I guess I’m having one of those old people moments, looking back on stuff and saying, “remember when?” But yeah, most of you probably don’t so here are some snaps from way back when.remember when cell phones had antennas? Kelly calling in her gold.remember when this is what halfpipes looked like? #minipipeclosing ceremony crew.JJ getting all famous and stuff.nerds. now and then. nothings changed here.

thanks for indulging me.

xoxo t

The Legendary Banked Slalom

Thanks to a little good ol’ fashion television magic, X Games has quickly become the main event in snowboarding. But, way back when, before X Games started inventing made for TV events and dramatizing every twist and turn from our favorite shredders, there was the Baker Banked Slalom (now-a-days it’s the Legendary Banked Slalom but ya know, it takes time to become a legend). Anyway, there’s a reason why it’s legendary. In the near 30 years that Howat sisters have been running this event the entire landscape of snowboarding has shifted and changed from a fringey type habit to a prime time Olympic staple and yet through a steadfast commitment to culture over cash the LBS has managed to stay locked in time.Chumpy riding the banks.

No prize money, no title sponsors, no TV coverage, nothing but a golden roll of duck tape and some bragging rights. Just to be clear, I am by no means saying the competition isn’t fierce. Hell no, in many ways it’s a harder hitting contest than the X Games because when you put a couple crusty old school legends up against some cocky Olympians and sprinkle in some hometown heroes you’ve got yourself a legit contest. One that Shaun White isn’t guaranteed to win and one that has Terje and Temple waxing months beforehand for. Harry and Haakenson doing some wax tech work.

Baker is cool like that, it levels the playing field and it all comes down to a persons actual ability to ride a snowboard. Navigating a 2minute long course of banks and whoops and whatever cockamame mystery feature the organizers throw in there ain’t something you do everyday and something the specialized snowboarders of today might be more than challenged by. So yeah, it’s cool and it’s one of those events that every person who has ever set foot on a snowboard should journey to see because up at Baker this weekend the roots of shred still exist un-televised and unadulterated.Danny Davis and the paper bib…

I left a lot of awesomeness out but trust me, a Northwest excursion to the Legendary Banked Slalom is good for the soul.

xo t

for more stories from last years greatness click here and here.

Worth the Wait

Generally speaking, I’m kind of impatient and slightly jaded. So, when it takes the season until January 21st to snow a few feet, I’m about ready to throw the towel in, move somewhere tropical and sip umbrella drinks with my toes in the sand . I mean I’ve had loads of epic powder days, blustery and bluebird and everything in between(not braggin just sayin) and so the thought of lining up with the rest of the powder starved people on a Sunday morning is not that inspiring. But what I forgot was, that riding powder is fun…so much fun and if that means getting up an hour before the lift opens to stand around with a bunch of uber agro mountain types chomping at the bit, scheming and planning their “epic routes” down “dipsy doodle and devil’s alley” well, fine, I’ll do it.  And I’ll even stand around in a huge ass line up the next day, with all the crusty mountain men who don’t have real jobs and hike up Highland’s bowl for a few epic slashes in the trees with my friends because snowboarding is fun and these are the kind of days that renew your spirit and remind you why winter is fun and stuff.Highland’s bowl untracked.

So yeah, maybe I’m not that jaded after all and for the record a good powder day with friends is worth the wait…

xoxo t

Flaming Lips

My ears are ringing and I’m still pulling bits and pieces of colorful confetti out of my hair from last night’s Flaming Lips show. Somehow the boys from Oklahoma City managed to squeeze their explosive theatrical arena rock experience into Aspen’s cozy little Belly Up, turning the 400 person venue into a blown out amphitheater event complete with costume clad party goers and 20 somethings tripping their faces off. From the moment Wayne and the crew stepped on stage and a barrage of sensory explosions were unleashed. Within the first five minutes of the show Wayne inflated a giant, plastic space bubble and proceeded to walk/crawl/bounce over the crowd, confetti canons blew up in our faces and massive confetti filled balloons bounced and popped on top of us…and then there was the music. Aside from the solid poppy/psychedelic standards you’d expect from the Lips (She Don’t Use Jelly, Do You Realize etc.) they played a slew of Beatles songs, warming up for their NYE show with Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon, including a 20 minute jam on A Day In The Life which was about as trippy as I’d imagine the Beatles might have been in their Srgt. Pepper Days.laser beam hands…And, yeah….the confetti. Honestly, after two and a half hours of creative antics and constant confetti, it never got old. Which is kind of amazing, especially considering the fact that I was probably the only person in the joint who wasn’t on some mind altering, medicinal, chocolate type thing. Although, by the end of it I did feel a wee bit out there…So yeah, a big thanks to the positive, playful energy of the Flaming Lips and for giving us more reasons to be blasted in the face with confetti canons.

xoxo t

Hear Me Now…

So here’s the deal….I’m not a feminist. I mean, yeah, I took the obligatory mind melting Fem Studies class in college and tend to get all irate about inequality, female or otherwise, but I kinda like to think we’re all looking out for each other…man, woman, dog, cat, yeti etc. But lately it has come to my attention that in our little community of shred things aren’t quite as equal as they used to be.Tina B getting her late 80′s tweak on….photo courtesy of Chantry.

A long, long time ago, when I started snowboarding (yup, I’m all old and stuff) there was no such thing as women’s boards, boots, bindings etc. or women’s events or equal prize money or any of that stuff we tend to take for granted these days. So, the small group of women’s snowboarding pioneers banded together slathered everything in pink (gag) and made some big stuff happen; we started creating our own products and events and demanding equal prize money. Now, women’s snowboarding is more progressive and popular than ever with arguably the best rivalries in the sport and it seems we’re taking a step back.

Gretchen and Kelly will not be Dewin the Dew…

The Dew Tour cut the women’s events from the Killington, VT stop, X Games trimmed down the women’s field to 8 riders and TTR has events of the roster that don’t have equal prize money. Maybe this is more a commentary on the state of affairs of the world (see economic crisis a la Greece, Italy etc.) or what happens when we whore out our sport for made for TV events that are more interested in time slots and commercial holds than good ol’ fashion shredding… I dunno. lights, camera, shred…

All I do know is that like good little girls we’re politely sitting back and waiting for someone else to open up the door. Not that we need to beat down the TV stations, burn our bras and beg for them to take us back but maybe just a little teeny, tiny, peep from the snowboarding community saying “hey, it aint cool”. So, here’s my peep and ya know what, it aint cool and as much as I love me some good primetime carnage and snowboardy drama we’re better than that and maybe we should show a little move love to the events that have been supporting snowboarding all along and didn’t just sign up when we got all hot and skinny and stuff…

kisses… t

PS. While we’re on the topic, chivalry better not die on my watch. I like having the door held open for me and having a fancy drink sent my way every now and again…yup, that’s right, I wanna have my cake and eat it too.

Christmas Cheer

GB, me and Kelly with the world’s unhappiest elf..

Two years running, Gretchen, Kelly, Chris and I have hosted a little holiday ho ho hoedown in Breck. Last year we rallied the troops in a Christmas cookie making extravaganza and this year we held a good ol’ fashion ugly sweater party. Luckily, Summit County has enough ugly sweaters to outfit the entire world of shred in hideous turtlenecks, sweater vests and holiday get ups and we served enough eggnog and mulled wine to convince 20 of your favorite shredders that banging on neighbor’s doors singing out of tune Christmas carols at the top of their lungs at 10PM on a Wednesday night was a good idea. Santa’s helpers. Enni, Cilka and Linn. Our creepy Christmas dudes in their Christmas duds. Matching sweaters matching phones. Moto and Soko.

Happy Holidays…

xoxo t

PS. Extra special holiday thanks to Dave Lehl for setting up his snazzy photo booth and snapping the night away. Be sure to check out his shred photos and hire him for all sorts of awesome jobs too…

Glass House

Once upon a time I lived in New Canaan, CT…weird, I know. To me it always seemed like a sea of cashmere cardigans, pearl necklaces, loafers and gas guzzling SUVs. But apparently way back when in the 40′s, 50′s and 60′s it was a hot spot for the modern design movement with its lax building codes, proximity to NYC and woodys landscape. So, a bunch of Harvard architect dudes, dubbed the Harvard 5, moved out there and built a ton of experimental and influential houses, Philip Johnson and his legendary glass house being one of them.Philip Johnson by Andy Warhol

For years, I lived on the same road as Johnson’s New Canaan compound occasionally seeing the aging architect strolling the hood but I never really knew about him or what lived behind his art deco gates. Friday, I finally toured the 47 acre estate and got a glimpse of a different kind of New Canaan, one with a thriving artist community pushing the boundaries of design and umm, well parties. Andy Warhol, the Velvet Underground and all sorts of other movers and shakers from the last 50 years were all about the wild life in New Canaan. Who knew? But then again, I guess you never really know what your neighbors are up to.

looking out Da Monsta at the librarypainting gallery…or tomb.rotating painting collection complete with Warhols, Rauschenberg, and Stellasthe sculpture gallery.

So yeah, if you find yourself in the wilds of Connecticut check out the Glass House and the other 11 or so influential buildings on the compound and see where all your IKEA furniture got its inspiration…seriously, it’s hard to remember that this stuff was ground breaking at the time when half the stuff is on sale at West Elm. Anyway, ask for Ms. Laura Einstein to show you the around, she knows her stuff on Philip Johnson, modern architecture and New Canaan happenings.

xoxo t

Beirut

Beirut… making the boys at band camp seem cool.

Last week I watched Beirut rock Philly’s Electric Factory with their awesome little brass ensemble, accordion sounds and nerdy school boy hair dos. I was never all that into the boys from band camp but there is something so awesome about the real live sounds of trumpets and tubas and trombones mixed with electric guitars and drums and a good ol’ fashion egg shake that makes jazz band boys seem cool… or maybe it was just their shaggy hairdos, I’ve always been a sucker for those.

But yeah, the music…I’d heard a little bit of Beirut prior to show and all that but live music has that magical sort of way of bringing together the hallowness of recorded sound and well, umm, making it alive while simultaneously changing your experience with the original recording. Maybe it’s just me but after seeing the show and the constant swapping of instruments and sounds I can suddenly hear the tuba and the accordion and can see Zach Condon strumming his teeny tiny ukelele singing “The Penalty” which is all sorts of cool in my book.

 

Anyway….yay for live music and the boys in band.

xoxo t

Philly

city hall…occupied and smelling like stale piss.

I spent the last couple of days wandering around Philly doing all sorts of nothing-esque activities; café chillin, chai drinking, people watching, architecture scoping and what not. Maybe it was the balmy t-shirt weather in mid November or the general awesomeness of feeling like you’re discovering a new place that’s been right next door the whole time…but either way, Philly is pretty much my new favorite spot. With its historic buildings and bells and statues and its cute little neighborhood spots Philly’s got a lot to love. Not to mention a way chiller pace of life compared to the hustley bustleyness of its nearby cities…I mean, New York,  you’re great, I heart you, but waiting 30minutes to be seated at a wiggley woggley table crammed in between a couple other wiggley woggley tables shouting over the commotion of breakfast chaos while dealing with an ambivalent waitstaff day after day gets a little old….just sayin.

So yeah, put Philly on your new urban spots to meander about and be on the look out for all things Ben Franklin…he’s kind of like a big deal in those parts. PS….that’s George Washington, tricorne hat and all but I swear Ben’s on every other street corner.

xoxo t