Goodbye to an old friend...

Saying goodbye to an old friend can be hard to do, but thankfully for me this old friend is just a couch.  Don't get me wrong.  I love that couch.  It had a nickname, and a storied history.  Under the guise of keeping this site PG-13, I will take a page from my friends, the Mormons, and modify the couch's nickname calling it "The Flip and Frick".  Any adult or intelligent being knows what I really mean, but it works for the Mormons so why not use it here as well.  This infamous piece of furniture has earned it's place in my heart by way of years of loyalty, trustworthiness, and just simple reliability.  This fold out cushion phenomenon was not only comfortable, but light in weight and heavy on pure simple genius.  Grab the cushions and pull, and then the whole thing would flip right open to be ready for action.  Whatever action that may be.  "The Flip and Frick" came into my life almost ten years ago now by way of Wapakoneta, Ohio.  I will give you a brief history as far back as I know it, which I am certain is not the full story.  As I was told by a roommate(to remain unnamed to protect the innocent), this fine piece came to Utah from it's home with his friend at Ohio State University.  After a life of Big 10 partying it made the big drive to Ogden, Utah to take up yet another college party house.  This time one full of ski bums.  Including yours truly.  "The Flip and Frick" was good to us with about four years of loyal service in many roles.  The fifth year in Utah I employed it as my only piece of bedroom furniture when I pulled off the dream winter of ski bumming full-time for five months with no job.  That was some of my most comfortable sleeping.  Maybe because I was living out a dream, but I give all credit to the couch.  After that winter I moved in with my future wife a few miles away, and "The Flip and Frick" stayed in the house with the existing occupants for another two years of service.  When that house found a whole new set of occupants "The Flip and Frick" was destined for the trash pile.  I just could not see it happen.  Therefore, I rescued the piece, and brought to my new home with my wife.  In our basement it served the needs of years of grateful house guests taking advantage of our proximity to world class skiing.  Again, with flawless performance.  My wife, Christine,  did not necessarily share my affinity for the couch, and often begged me to get rid of it.  She insisted it was smelling of mold, and I am not sure she appreciated the wild and checkered ways of "The Flip and Frick's" infamous history.  I, of course, could smell no trace of it's foul nature as my senses were blinded by love and respect.  However,...

         

^...on the day this picture was taken I sat down on my favorite old couch and could not put my finger on a foul mold smell that I was getting a whiff of.  In a moment of dreaded realization, I figured out that my old companion was dying inside.  Deeper investigation revealed the moldy culprit that robbed this great institution of it's useful life.  I called out to Christine with the terrible news that I could no longer deny.    

^She cried out with joy, and ran down the stairs to immediately to jump on the chance to get rid of the smelly old tag-a-long.  I resisted with every illogical rationalization I could, but in the end I could not deny that "The Flip and Frick" was done for.  I needed to come to grips with the fact that it was rotting from the inside out, and needed to be put out to pasture.  Just like you must put down a suffering cow, I had to let "The Flip and Frick" drift off to sofa heaven.  

^As much as it pained me, I knew that it was for the best.  "The Flip and Frick" would not want to continue on that way anyhow.  I loaded it into the Jeep and asked Christine if she could take "The Flip and Frick" to the landfill alone.  I didn't think I could do it.  She gleefully obliged, and swiftly drove off with my dear old friend in the back.  As she drove away, a single tear dramatically rolled down my cheek as I watched with solemn regret and bittersweet reflections of all the good times I had in the presence of my old friend, "The Flip and Frick".  Goodbye, you lived it full and well.

To all those that where so deeply blessed to have known the wonder of "The Flip and Frick" and did not get that chance to say goodbye, I must apologize.  However, you can take some solace in knowing that it knew that you all loved it so.

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Okay, okay, I guess I can take my tongue out of my cheek now.  Come on, give me a break.  My winter is over now, and my life is not quite as interesting when I am not off on some kind of crazy adventure in some obscure corner of this wild world.

Back to the everyday... and so thankful...

Back to life, back to reality.  Traveling and skiing on all of these film and photo projects can really seem like a dreamworld when I am in the throws of all of the action taking place.  During that part of my skiing career I am consistently overwhelmed by the magic of the epics and unexpected experiences that rule over the nature of that work.  So much adrenaline and appreciation is wrapped up into that aspect of my life that everything else takes on a whole different vibe when the snow melt returns me to the more day-to-day nature of the behind the scenes roles of my lifestyle.  As an adventurer, I thrive on the ups and downs of the variety in my unique career.  Returning from the Freeheellife Films Alaska shoot I found myself exhausted and nerve racked from not only an epic trip, but a long and action packed season all around.  The high octane nature of these adventures takes a toll on me that usual results in three days of coming back down to earth to heal not only my body, but my mindset.  I gotta say, my nerves were shot.  Operating day in and day out in dangerous terrain and avalanche conditions is an emotional and stressful roller coaster of the highest highs and scariest lows.  Good and bad decisions happen all the time in any efforts, and ours is no different.  We simply have both dire and gloriously beautiful consequences.  Living in that kind of spectrum of high and low takes a toll that requires recovery and support.   

^Recovery and support are abundant from these two.  My wife, Christine, and pup, Murphy, are my two favorite girls.  They provide me both the recovery and the moral support I need.  I need them with me behind the scenes in order to be able to make the entertaining adventure stories that happen in front of the lenses possible.  Everything is connected and nothing happens without influences.  They are a good one.  

^Her chill vibe is contagious...

^...and smoothes out my mindset like glassy water.

^These two always are able to bring me back down to earth just like I really need them too. 

 

^The more safe and mundane view from my night job at Delta Airlines is a welcome relief to the high octane consequences of my day job.  Here I operate around jet engines, heavy machinery, and heights.  Yet, it is still much safer and less stressful than my skiing adventures.

^"Planes come in, planes go out, and we work them." This quote from an old timer at Delta is a comforting reality of the job.  Here I simply show up, do a job, and go home.  There are no avalanches at the airport, just jet engines and heavy machinery.  I will take that merely relative safety and enjoy it. 

^Planes going out, and me punching out with very few words.  Head down, mouth shut, and simply doing as I am told is a welcome reality after skiing off two avalanches in one day in my other job.  Most folks despise the boring nature of hourly work, but for me this job is perfect.  Flight benefits and some good old fashioned boring stability.  The exact prescription to complement my high octane winter work.      

^Spring also brings about the office work that is the integral other part of my adventurous career.  The stories that we make need to be told, and that requires doing the documentation work to tell them.  That takes a lot of behind the scenes effort that is not as glorious as what shows up on the screens and pages, but no less important.  Again, I enjoy these efforts because laboring from a mobile office like this one I set up on my back porch is a welcome change.  Again, no rocks or avalanches here, and my four legged sleepy assistant is good company.  I guess I am just thankful and enjoying how calm, relaxing, and all around good it feels to be home alive and healthy after another adrenaline driven epic of the highs and lows of another wild winter in the mountains.