First off, I know this post is late – unusually so, given the near-clockwork routine of these posts and the way in which we try to keep everyone cheerful on a Friday. However, I am busy enjoying myself on a vacation – a fairly hectic one, as it happens – and as such, have had little time to keep up with posting and current events.
The precise nature of my holiday is also unusual, given my background. I am in [REDACTED], trying to figure out why the hell rich white people enjoy skiing so much. Yes, I did fall flat on my arse multiple times, and yes, I did only JUST manage to avoid wiping out multiple pedestrians on a ski slope (including a pack of children that showed up out of nowhere).
Fortunately, i did learn, more or less, how to stop and slow down. I am told this is the key skill you have to learn to become at least competent at skiing, and I can well believe it.
What I cannot believe is the sheer cost associated with snow sports in general, and skiing in particular. For the cost of renting a room in a ski chalet, buying lift tickets, renting skis and all of the necessary gear, and buying simple food and sustenance while on the slopes, you could have multiple holidays anywhere else in the world.
It really is a sport for rich white folks. Those of us with more down-to-earth tastes would be well advised to stay away from the white powder and let the crazy ones enjoy it.
I am particularly impressed by some of the really steep slopes high up in the mountains. Skiing hundreds, even thousands, of feet down them, requires a level of skill and talent that I find difficult to grasp, and highly admirable. It is difficult to imagine how anyone can survive a single mistake while skiing down a glacier or a black diamond ski course. That takes talent beyond anything I can muster.
Be that as it may, I remain on vacation until the end of next week, so if posting is a bit sparse between now and then, you know why.
At any rate, here is this week’s closing Instathot, a bit late (fortunately not in the bad way). Her name is Jess Mulin, of indeterminate age but probably around 25, and of unknown origin. I know nothing else about her, and really can’t be arsed to find out.
Happy Friday – or, rather, weekend, at this point – and I’ll see you in the pub with a drink.
1 Comment
Sir Mix-a-Lot is well pleased.