Before long, too soon in fact, the idiots will be back here, stinking up the office. A few months respite on shred-tour should deliver them back to Oceanside much worse for the wear, and likely, more useless than ever. It’s going to be a long, hot summer. Cool us off with some goods in the mailbox, please. Stamp it and send it to: The Angry Interns(tm) 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or e-mail us for a change at: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Lord Of The Crime Rings
I hit New England with a vengeance-riding just about every hill from Mt. Abrams to Tuckerman’s Ravine. I took about 70 trips last year, but now I’m up in the correctional facility, locked up for another cold one. Five years and I should be out, then I can go to a nice little place and become a snow Hobbit. Live free and believe in yourself-I’m going to ride this one out, they can’t stop time.Rick Cote
In most places crime pays, but not in the Vacation State, apparently-you finally got caught. Most of us have done some time, but nothing like a five-year bid. Sleep with your eyes open, keep your chin up, and before you know it, you’ll be out. In Hobbit years, your sentence is almost over already.
Typical Mammoth Mishap
A few of my friends and I went to Mammoth for four days and there wasn’t much snow, so we spent our money on alternative entertainment. With our luck, on the third night it finally snowed. By then we were out of money. My friend came up with the idea to tie a rope to the back of the Jeep, and in no time we were charging up and down the streets. People didn’t know what to think when they saw two kids doing 40 through an intersection behind the Jeep, but the cops did. We got a DUI, several tickets (not lift tickets), and an impounded Jeep.Andrew Britton
When you’re young and dumb, it seems the hard way is the only way lessons are learned. You’ve got to watch your back in Mammoth, cops can smell mischief a mile away. Poor Danny Kass and all the other local derelicts are bound to suffer a similar fate. Next time, go to nearby June Lake, where skitching and other such activities are perfectly legal.
Dear TransWorld SNOWboarding, I’m not sure if I want to subscribe to your magazine, but could you send me a free sample?Matthew Brandenburg
Thanks for such a polite request. We would have sent it already, but didn’t know exactly what type of “sample” you wanted.
Daddy’s Little Dimwit
Isn’t it scary when you feel like your parents may be right about your job? I got lucky and scored a spot in the local hill’s rental shop. I rushed home and told my parents, only to hear, “What? You aren’t going to college? That’s not a real job! When are you ever going to get serious with your life and think about becoming an adult?”
Parents always seem eager to dispense harsh and sensible judgements. Fact is, they’ve raised a child (you), and somewhere along the way they failed miserably. Seriously, what kind of parenting produces a kid who wants to adjust bindings and shelve boots for five bucks an hour? They certainly aren’t much of an example, so take their advice with a grain of salt. But please, have some dignity, at least shoot for a job as a lift-rat.
The reason I am writing is to ask for some advice. What would you do if you didn’t have a job or money, and needed boots, gloves-everything to go out and ride, basically? Where I live we only have jobs for half the people, oh yeah, did I mention I’m only sixteen and in high school? That doesn’t help. Please write back.Brandon Dodson
There’s a simple solution, Brandon. Quit school immediately and get a night job at the 7Eleven. Then convince your parents that the White Power State is no place for an aspiring shred like yourself and suggest a move to somewhere like Tahoe, Alaska, or Oregon. As for getting the gear, a feew hard hours of cleaning the Slurpee machine should have you on the snow with a fresh kit in no time.
I found a two-piece white leather suit and a gold chain, won the award for most improved rider, and taught my last snowboarding class of the season. With one day left in the season, I rode, landed on my face, and didn’t know what day it was. It was my first hospital experience and a broken jaw. Some guy from New Zealand bought my Vicodin and drove me home. I got wired shut, drank smoothies for two months, and lost 25 pounds. I got unwired and now I can’t wait to get back on the snow.
Bad things happen to bad people. Based on your “white leather suit and a gold chain” admission, chances are your accident was an act of pure karma. What that has to do with the broken-jaw story is a bit of a mystery-one we’d rather not consider.