Near the end of every production season we’re allowed to leave our So Cal cubicles to go and do our “field work.” I’ve actually taken this opportunity to leave my home by the beach completely-I moved back to the mountains. I now wake up only minutes away from pow turns.
As a child, my family moved several times, and we weren’t even military. I’ve always loved moving (at least until I was big enough to start carrying the heavy stuff) because I loved the adventure of it all. I get excited about making new friends and learning about new places. I also love how I sort of get a fresh start. In my new house I can justify buying a new TV, throwing out four-dozen old T-shirts, actually paying taxes on time, starting my new diet, keeping the place clean, and a variety of other programs and projects. But more than anything, I’m excited that once again I’ll ride every day. Plus, they’ve got fun rails in the park.
My sister, on the other hand, always despised moving. She hated leaving her friends and being forced to start back at the beginning. As I moved this last time, I began to understand a little more of how she felt. In the two years I lived with my roommates, I became more and more a part of their families and we shared many good times. Parting ways, coupled with the fact that I’m now six hours away from Captain Keno’s, is a lot to handle all at once. But, whatever-there’s a superpipe, too.
Even with the downside, my moving has really helped me to clear shit up. I know that sounds hokey, but it’s true. Two years is the most I’ve ever stayed in one house, and I’m starting to think it’s my limit. Moving gets my blood flowing, it helps unclutter my mind, and so on. But I guess the best part of my moving is simply more time on the snow.-David “I Love Modern Technologies Like E-mail” Sypniewski