Last year was an incredibly fun time. Imagine, I show up Friday night at o'dark-thirty not knowing anybody. The first person I run into is Captain Caveman tossing me a palm sized puppy.... yeah, he's cute already... no, I got no problem with your dog, really. Okay, okay, I'll take him... beer? Cool (now I wish somebody would offer me a fucking bong hit, godammit... I just spent the last two hours in my car)... panckakes? Sure. So do I want to climb tomorrow? Sure. Orbit? Uh... yeah, sure... what's that? I had a great fucking time. I met the regulars, I met a legend or two, I met some wantabes.
So this year somebody has stepped up to the plate to take on some of the organizing, and all you fuckers want to do is rip on him. I don't see you volunteering your time. Regardless of what you're whining about, shit won't get done without somebody taking some kind of initiative, and Beck is doing that. Decisions get made. You don't like the plan... then begin a dialogue and participate in the planning. Otherwise, sit down, shut up and enjoy, or throw your own party.