Everybody around here is snowboard crazy, and with good reason, since it is the only thing that keeps you from going AWOL in the winter. Last weekend about 20 of us chartered a bus and went up to Nagano prefecture to ski and board where the winter olympics were in '98. It was a beautiful weekend, and even by Colorado standards, the two resorts we visited were pretty stellar. The Japanese carry their manic work eithic into their leisure activities as well, and as a result I saw some of the most amazing stuff in the board parks that I've ever seen on snow. Japanese dudes are tiny, too, and have the blood of ninjas in their veins, so flipping and spinning comes as easily to them as walking, or so I like to think. I saw front flips, flips and grabs, 720 grabs, you name it, the Japs did it. With style.

I, on the other hand, tried to grind a big rail and fell on my neck. I heard a popping, but it was just my upper spinal area, so it's all cool. Seriously though, I was very afraid for a few seconds, until I realized that I still had full mobility. What can I say? If you try to go big, you just might fall big. Or in my case, you just might fall big when you are trying to do absolutely nothing but go straight across a piece of metal.

That night we went to this club called "q-tip," which was fun, but I was pretty beat-up, both physically and monetarily, and didn't offer much in the way of partying. After an hour or so in the club, this American hippy comes in with a bongo drum strapped to his back. Immediately I think "Oh God, Here We Go."

Sure enough, the hippy moves himself off into a corner and, weaving slightly, takes out the drum. Keep in mind that the song the DJ is playing is a fast, dancy version of a Destiny's Child hit, but ohhhhh nooooo, Dead Head Donny over here, no doubt all high off whippits and totally baked, starts bongoing right along, in his own world. He is also missing every single beat by about a half second. Trust me, "nature" was just about the only thing this guy was "in harmony" with.

And the Japanese absolutely loved it. They ate it up. Three of them danced around him and weaved like he did. And when he lost interest and moved off to hug some tree somewhere, they took up his bongo drum and jammed along right where he left off.

So we come to my first question of the entry: What is the deal with hippies and their drums? Does the music just not work for them unless they take some part in it? What is the deal?

So we've got Hippy McGee in one corner, and in the other corner, all of the sudden, some Japanese dude comes into the dance club with his damn doberman. His dog. A doberman. People around me ask "is that dog sniffing for drugs?" and "Maybe it's for security," but unless the security guards in Japan wear FUBU clothes as uniforms, sport gigantic silver chains, and all wear sunglasses at night, then no, this guy was no cop. I sincerely hope he was the owner, but he probably wasn't, he was, however, another example of a person with an unhealthy attachment to their dog.

So I come to the second quesiton of the entry, gentle reader: What is the deal with people and their dogs?

When a guy can parade around his doberman pinscher in a crowded nightclub just for the hell of it, the whole world has gone crazy.

But that isn't even the worst part. The worst part, my friends, is that when I was going up the lift with a few other JETs, one of them, Emily, happened to look out over the ski-run below:

"Hey, what is that?" she asked.
"What is what?" another replied.
"That. What is that? Is that a dog? Is that guy skiing with a dog?"
"Where?...... Oh my God, he's skiing with his dog."

Now this man wasn't just holding his dog and skiing down the mountain. No no. That, while insane, would be a little less insane than what he was actually doing, which was running the dog alongside him on a leash. DOWN THE SKI RUN.

The funniest (and most tragic) part of the whole scene was the fact that it was a fat wiener dog. It could barely keep up, it's little fat wiener legs were scurrying all about, skiiers were flying this way and that, the man was making turns down the mountain, the little dog was sliding around after him, it was mayhem. So I ask you again:

What is the deal with people and their dogs? Can you not just leave your dog at home for even one fucking second? Does Fido have to come in the shower with you too? Do you force Fido to sit in on you when you poo? Do you think Fido enjoys it? Or, as another friend of mine by the name of Max suggested, was that poor weiner dog thinking, "Oh Christ, it must be Saturday, he's breaking out the skiis again. I hate my life."

Clearly, part of the reason for the above scene was the fact that the man was Japanese and the Japanese are all slightly crazy, one of my co-workers also reported seeing a Japanese man skiing with his newborn baby in his arms, for instance, which is flat out criminal, but I think the dog issue is a worldwide phenomenon. As much as I hate cats, I never see anyone bringing their cat into the mall with them. And yet can't tell you how many times I've seen some little dog stuffed in a bag, bouncing along off their master's hip. This is a more serious problem in Japan, where the populace is much more prone to small and ornate trinkets, not unlike a teacup poodle.

The weekend in the mountains was a blast, however, dogs, hippies, and all. At the end of the weekend I bought some beers from these three Japanese girls that were selling booze out of a van they had ornately (and hilariously) dubbed "the dinning car." They were going for "dining car" I think, and they aaaalmost got there, too, but alas, one letter to many. They were also, all three of them, completely wasted. After a few drinks and a few laughs together they stuck me on the megaphone to broadcast their wares to all the english speaking community:

"Hey, all you english speaking people," my voice screamed loud, across the little basin area, "this little van over here sells a wonderful variety of beers, and they even have three little lawnchairs set up for you to sit in. So come on over, have a brew, and take a load off. You won't regret it."

I certainly didn't. I even got an excited clap from a little girl for no other reason than the fact that I was speaking loudly and in English.

It was a fitting close to a funky weekend.


As an aside, after several drinks, Rich saw this picture of a snow fox and vehemently insisted that I looked exactly like it. He asked if I would pose next to it. Here is the result:See any resemblance? Sure you do.