Q: Do you guys prefer skiing or snowboarding?

Dear Vanilla Pop:  

First off I just wanna say that I love your show. You guys are great.

I know you guys live up in Northern New Mexico (Taos right?), and I figure you guys either ski or snowboard because the skiing (and boarding) is really rad up there right? Anyway, I’m wondering if you like skiing more than snowboarding or like snowboarding more than skiing. 

I used to ski, but now I snowboard because it's totally rad! I know that if I lived up there I'd be boarding like crazy because it's totally rad.

What do you guys prefer?

Thanks for all the great shows guys, and keep Rockin'! (and boarding or skiing or whatever you like most!)

-Oscar "Shredder" Barrington III 

Dear OSB3-

Thanks for your inquiry. 

I feel your enthusiasm. Like you, I used to ski fairly regularly when I first moved to New Mexico. Then I too switched over to snowboarding a few years later due to the allure of its less confining nature and the fact that I could finally hang out with kids who had no job or prospects in life.

While I understand that skiing and/or snowboarding can be an addictive activity for some, I think I've become a bit more tempered when it comes to sports involving high speeds, trees and hospital bills.

But memories of days spent plummeting down a frozen sheet of ice linger, and I'd like to reminisce a bit if I may.

On an average ski day, I'd wake up, eat a hearty bowl of oatmeal, and load up the car with my $800 pair of skis, $450 pair of boots, $140 pair of poles and duffle bag stuffed with another $300 of accoutrements. Then I'd go back in the house and spend a half hour looking for my $180 pair of prescription ski goggles.

I'd finally hit the road around 7:30 and begin the short 45 minute drive in the ice and the snow up to the ski resort.


Upon arriving, I'd make sure to take a nice 20 minute drive around the ski valley so I could take in some sight seeing while I looked for a parking spot. If I was lucky I could carefully wedge myself between a couple of Hummers whose owners felt it was in their best interest to take up enough room for a boat.

While somehow managing to squeeze out the rear window, I'd begin the half-mile trek to the ticket "shack" while doing my best to hold on to 80 pounds of surprisingly non-cumbersome gear without slipping on the ice and impaling my head on some tree stump they forgot to pull out while stripping all vegetation from what I'm assuming was once a lush and verdant landscape.

As soon as I got to the "shack" I could work on regaining some circulation while I stood in line for another 10 minutes so I could have the privilege of coughing up $120 for a lift ticket which at that time was slightly less than a round trip flight to Vegas. 

After I got my ticket I'd make my way to the locker room while enjoying the suddenly balmy temperature of 17. It's a good thing they don't put the lockers anywhere near the ticket office or the lifts so I can get in a bit more sight seeing and exercise before I hit the slopes. This body ain't gonna get buff on its own.

After paying ten dollars for a locker and another five for a lock because I prefer leaving mine in the car, I could finally scope out a locker that didn't smell like a camel, get dressed, and get back to being excited about being too sore to move the next day.

TIME TO SUIT UP!

I'd put on my:

• 1st shirt layer for wicking
• 2nd shirt layer for insulating
• $100 Patagonia fleece made by some 9 year old in Bolivia for more insulating 
• $300 Ski Jacket to look good and for more insulating
• 1st layer of pants for wicking
• 2nd layer of pants for insulating
• Ski pants for more insulating
• 1st pair socks for wicking
• 2nd pair of socks for insulating
• Gloves
• Hat
• Goggles
• Neck thingy
• Helmet

And apply my:

• Lip balm
• Sun block

Once dressed, I'd go back outside to grab my:

• Boots
• Skis
• Poles

And made sure I had my:

• Money
• Flask
• Dope
• Phone
• Cigarettes
• Inhaler
• More money 
• ID 
• Contact info for next of kin

Then I'd go back inside to get the lift ticket that was still in my jeans.

Along with the key to my locker.

After paying twenty dollars to have them cut the lock, it was finally time to climb the 8 sets of stairs to the lift line while enjoying the suddenly balmy temperature of 19. It's a good thing it was warming up or I would have gotten a bit chilly standing in line as I waited another 15 minutes while the family from Texas in front of me figured out how to get on the chair lift without having to shoot it with a rifle to slow it down. 

Oh the humanity

UP I GO

Two and a half hours after leaving the house I was finally perched on the mountain's summit. The anticipation of slaloming between hundreds of other skiers while doing my best not to plow into a randomly placed pine tree or stoned teenager who might be in the middle of texting his friends or taking a selfie smack dab in the middle of the slope was absolutely exhilarating. 

Two runs later it was time for lunch. 

Grab a tray, stand in line and order a $12 burger, $3 bag of chips and an $8 beer. 

Then I start wondering why I don't just wear these ski boots all day every day around the house and in town because they're so darn comfortable and walking around in them is astonishingly easy and you barely feel a thing when you accidentally kick a table leg, and the kid who's wearing one of those charming, imitation "dread-locked Rasta" ski hats is suddenly also wearing his 48 ounce Dr. Pepper in his lap as his mother who's wearing a couple of Wookiee legs on her feet because she still thinks it's 1985, starts screaming at you like you just rear ended her Beemer demanding that you purchase another five dollar soda for her spoiled little privileged ski brat of a son because you should watch where you're going you idiot.
  

If you really need to wear these...

Think about those who suffer when you shop irresponsibly

As much as all of this was a total joy, I must say that my favorite part of the day was overheating like a '72 Völkswagen after I took a two minute run, then seizing up like glacier while waiting in line (again) to take the 12 and a half minute lift ride back to the top. The lift ride was always the part of the day I looked forward to the most, as I particularly enjoyed being pressed into conversation about 'skiing' by the skier crammed in the seat next to me, for I too love talking about dropping several thousand dollars to go down to South America when it is Summer here in North America in order to do some more skiing in July because it's Winter down there when it's Summer up here and skiing up here between November and April just isn't enough sometimes.

Don't Care If You Live Or Die?...
Try Snowboarding.

One last run

I was finally getting the hang of the whole "skiing" thing, when the insurance companies decided it was a good time to invent the "snowboard". I mean really, why would I want to have independent control of my legs when I can permanently lock both of my feet onto a something that is not encumbered with a silly little thing like a release mechanism? Never being one to shy away from a new experience, I thought I'd try it out to increase my chances of being a quadriplegic. 

While I did miss the comfort of my old ski boots, I found that having my shoulder ripped out of its socket the instant my snowboard decided to stop going downhill while still allowing my torso to continue towards the Earth's gravitational pull at 75 miles an hour to be just as enjoyable. Being slammed into a mountain without having the opportunity to adjust the trajectory of your face before impact is quite the rush. Dude. 

Honey, where are the pills?

I wish that I could have remained strapped into that board forever, but one run and two concussions later I decided that I should probably head home because that's where I kept my Vicodin. Plus I had other things I wanted to do like stick around for my 53rd birthday. So I called it a day and went back to something I knew how to do very well...lay on the couch.

Back in the comforting bosom of my living room wishing for a stroke to come take the pain away, I realized that I was faced with a dilemma. I couldn't decide if I liked skiing more than snowboarding or the other way around.
Then it dawned on me...
I hated both of those sports equally.

But just to make sure I wasn't missing the whole point of it all because of all the pain medication I was chowing, I decided to make a list comparing the benefits and downsides of skiing and snowboarding, vs. those of staying at home.

This is what I came up with:

• Skiing: Shell out $1200 on gear. Use 10 times a year.
• Staying Home: Shell out $75 on a steak dinner for your date. Do it once - get lucky
  
  
• Skiing: Juggle 80 pounds of gear and accessories
• Staying Home: Juggle evening's entertainment choice between Netflix or porn

• Skiing: Lose left glove that cost $70 for the pair online
• Staying Home: Lose at Scrabble that cost $5 at a yard sale

• Skiing: Be cold, then hot, then cold, then hot, then cold, then hot, then tired
• Staying Home: Be warm
  

• Skiing: Helmet
• Staying Home: No helmet
  
  
• Skiing: Choosing between a black diamond run which will kill you, or a double black diamond run which will kill you faster
• Staying Home: Choosing between Netflix and porn

After going over the list, I decided that staying home was a much more pragmatic approach to my life. I am currently enjoying my remaining cartilage and my 52-year standing record of no shattered anything.

I have every intention of extending that record for as long as possible.

In Closing

I'm very happy that you have found your true passion OSB3, as I believe that that is one of the key yet often times elusive ingredients for a life well lived. But at my age, if I want the "rush" that all you skiers and snowboarders talk about- I'll just read the book.

Hoping you survive to see another Vanilla Pop show...

-Al (spending quality time at home in his underwear) Dente