Did Santa Deliver?

[pope]

I'm battin' 667 this holiday. I asked Santa for Zappa's JOE'S GARAGE, a coupon book to Fox's Topless Club, and a new tolerance for sport climbing. I'll have to talk to Santa about helping me tolerate sport climbing, next year when I'm sittin' on his lap. Also, to the hot little number I saw shopping at REI Sunday (you were up checkin' out the books ...and me), it's not going to do any good to ask Santa for another chance at my phone number next year. I'm a married man, and I don't go in for side dishes (unless you work in a bar and can keep me hydrated for free).

Hey, did I hear Dwayner is throwing some kind of New Year's party? Is he really trying to beat Big Lou's hot-tub occupancy record (you know, where Lou admitted that they never could have fit 42 mountain guides in the tub if they had been wearing their swim trunks)? The last time I went tubbin' with Dwayner, he had a sign over his tub that read, "Clothing is strictly optional." Rumor has it that "optional" has been replaced with "verboten".

[willstrickland]

Pope, posting on Christmas?! What the hell is wrong with you? But, since you asked:

I asked for 4 pairs of Smartwools 2 different styles and a stovetop stainless espresso maker Mom and gramdma came through perfectly.

Dad sent $300, plus the offer to buy me a computer before the summer if I send the specs of what I need.

I bought myself: Sixer of Obsidian Stout, a dank nugget, New 70m 9.8 leadline, 60m 11mm wallrope, 60m 7/16 static haulline, synthetic bag (to replace my current one with about 400 nights of use on it), russian aiders, new drill, bits,bolts (for replacing those time bomb belay bolts, not for putting up sport routes), couple of scream-aids, a few pins, Yates "Lazy" chains, and a couple of screws (ice that is).

I've got a birthday not too far away too, so looks like resoles on 3 pairs, a new pair of all day shoes, new hiking boots, and a new harness.

That's alot of buying for an anti-consumer culture spray monkey like me...so what gives? Well, that's not even the total, I didn't count the other gear I've bought in the last two months: ice tools, crampons, silent partner, pro-traxion, BD Double ledge, set of camalots and brass offsets, filled out my set of alien hybrids, and got some new gloves. Damn, that's alot of buying you hypocrite Will! So let's break it down:

Ledge, cams, brassies, ice tools: used (barely) paid around or under 50% retail

Russian aiders, synthetic bag, ropes, pins, screamers, screws,gloves: on sale, paid from 50% to 70% retail, total around 60% retail

Crampons, alien hybrids, few pins,pro-traxion, drill: bought from foreign suppliers (Barrabes, sportsextreme) paid about 65% retail with the duties included.

Yates lazy chains: only thing I paid retail for (well the beer too), and I don't have any pro deals anymore.

I also sold: a set of cams, a camcorder, videos, a stove, a jacket, a guitar, and a few tools. Around $3000 in gear and I'm about $1000 out of pocket...not bad...maybe being a bit of a scrooge turned out to be the true Santa Claus.

I also spent all day on X-mas hand chiseling two rusted nuts in an attempt to get my master cylinder off my van. After two days of delicate grinding and chiseling I have one of them removed and the second almost finished. Every time I banged my knuckles hammering I thought to myself "You fool, you're supposed to be headed to Lilloet to bash your hands on ice, not car hoods!" So I was a little pissed, job that should've taken 1.5hrs is now going on week two, all to remove two rusty fasteners. I'm getting a serious lesson in patience, although I anticpate I'll finish this thing by the weekend. The crux of the issue is the cordless "dremel" style tool I'm using only has one god battery that lasts around 15 minutes before need a charge and that takes about 5 hours. Grind, chisel, smoke herb, wait....repeat every five hours until dark, get up the next day, repeat...scream to yourself "I SHOULD BE CLIMBING ICE RIGHT NOW!"

[Dwayner]

I don't give a rat's butt what all you climbers got for Christmas. Santa hasn't like me for years, but the fact still remains: LANCE ARMSTRONG STILL MAKES MOST CLIMBERS LOOK LIKE A BUNCH OF WEENIES!!!

pope: them coupon's to Fox's expired years ago. Have you ever heard of a $2 couch dance? Check the date, dude. They're circa 1978. You can thank me later for saving you a slap in the face and a mighty boot-kick out the front door. Also that hot li'l number "checking you out at at the REI". Her name is Cynthia, and I paid her $25 to stalk you as a goof. Too bad you didn't strike up a conversation because I would have really gotten my money's worth cuz she nasty!

Brother Will: come over here and share them brews with your buddy Dwayner. Thanks for clarifying your bolt objectives and a big old congratulations for getting rid of that damn guitar. Sure, strummin' a few chords by yourself in a campground at JT or the Smith Rocks might attract a few females...if you enjoy the unwashed hippy type or the sensitive romantics who will follow you around like lost puppies. Trust me, you did a beautiful thing when you unloaded that device. And it sounds like the grand and parental units are on the ball. Tell your dad that your internet buddies need new computers too so as to further your social life. (Dude! get your dad to buy you a new van so you can stop wasting your time on the repairs and get out. Tell him that you've spent more time on that master cylinder than the abstract monetary value of the more fulfilling climbing you could have been doing instead. And consider this while you're fighting under the van: why do you think they call it a "master" cylinder? Who's the boss, amigo? It ain't gonna give up without a struggle!)

You guys..rock on.

- Dwayner

P.S. I don't know what a "dank nugget" is but I'm not sure I want to know. (isn't that what pope left on his sleeping bag?) pope: beware of the "Central Scrutinizer." And there was no need to give Cynthia your phone number. She's got it and will be calling you a lot at home. If you're not home, she will leave many messages and you can expect her to call at 11:59 PM on New year's eve.

[pope]

Mr. Strickland, I’m not sure selling that axe was the best choice. As Dwayner mentions, knowing about three chords and dropping the names of a few studio musicians who might have helped the latest alternative groovy groove-meistro record his “tight” new CD….this is a proven formula for impressing bimbos around the campfire. It’s not the only formula, however. When I was a swingin’ buck, I went with a “mysterioso” image: beret, tobacco pipe, wool knickers, a couple of thick novels and a physics book designed for popular consumption. Worked like a charm, especially when followed up with a snappy little one-liner, like “Why don’t you put down that 50-cent romance novel and start living your own life, if you know what I mean.” Or, “How can you look so good when you’re starving to death?” Or when all else fails, “Make my enormity your priority.” And Dwayner, who cares if strummin’ a guitar only attracts goofy hippy girls? Think of it this way: if it weren’t for goofy hippy girls, the little affectations wouldn’t fly. Then you’d basically be left with the only other proven formula for plookin' the ladies: money. Mentioning money, hiring Cynthia to stalk me at REI would have been more effective if there weren’t about ten others just like her sniffing around. I’m telling you, buddy, these kind of encounters are commonplace for me, so you can stop throwing your money to the wind.

[ 12-27-2001: Message edited by: pope ]

[willstrickland]

Doods,

Get real, you think I'd sell my ONLY guitar? I've got 3 others...a 6 string acoustic, 12 string acoustic, and my first, best, and primary...the 1974 Gibson Les Paul Deluxe. I sold off a shitty strat copy that I bought when I first got out here for like $50. So bring on the goofy hippie girls, I prefer them.

Prefer them? What the hell is wrong with me? Well, the hippie girls have alot going for them. Most learn some craft skills like knitting, crochet, and sewing. They cook, garden, and enjoy things other than Oprah, the mall, and cell phones. They tend to be less concerned with money, can score me a bag when I'm otherwise occupied, like the same types of music, and enjoy traveling on a dirtbag budget. They also tend to be uninhibited (but also unshaven and unbathed! kinda like France). There's also just something about a barefoot girl in one of those little half-apron looking top things. Dreadie chicks? Even better, bring 'em on.

Generalization, sure, but who cares.

As for the van, master cylinder is off, new one is on, still have to bleed the system (after destroying two of the "one-man bleeder" systems, I'll go the standard route this weekend). My dad is poorer than me! No new vehicles coming from him, plus he hasn't had a license since the 80's.

Dwayner, it seems your frustration with forced piano lessons from Mrs. Grindstone as a child has upset your appreciation of music and musicians as a whole. My recommendation: psychotherapy, definitely psychotherapy.

Pope, mysterioso image ehh? Tobacco pipe, knickers, beret, novels in a rucksack? What were you, a character in The Dharma Bums? Chuggin cock with Ginsberg at one of them Leary hippy-dippy parties? Probably started hanging out with a real live Indian guru in the 60's and wearing one of them silly beaded leather headbands...and I don't know if you could really call "Your astrology guide for 1963" a "physics book for popular consumption".

You cats are right though, I need to get out.

[Dwayner]

Will, my brother...some clarifications are in order. RE: the hippie chicks: you forgot one of the most prominent traits that should appear at the top of your list: FLAKEY! They'll pack up their stuff and leave at any moment of "inspiration" including seeing a guy with a bigger guitar (or even a smaller one like them portable backpack jobbers) or with a couple of more Arlo Guthrie's in his repertoire. They can also be verbally embarassing around your more sophisticated friends. I do agree with you on them little apron shirt things....hotcha! The matted reggae hair...are you kidding me? Not only does it look like small animals live in there, but it looks like hell and makes me sad that someone would do that to their beautiful hair. But if you can put up with the babbling, etc., it really comes down to hygiene which tends to be seriously lacking. If you've got a venue for regularly skinny-dipping nearby (not very reasonable in an urban setting), you might have a solution, but it has to be regular. Perhaps a hot tub could be a possible subsitute. Hey pope! Tell Will about what you think of that pachouli oil! And tell him how you scored all them girls when you were single by putting on that wedding ring before you went into a bar.

I recall pope's attempts to find his identity. It must of been about 10 years ago. (The guy's only about 35 now so he wasn't old enough to do the 60's nonsense.) In fact, I'm really surprised that he's coming clean about his "experiment" in a public forum such as this because I used to tease him about it and he didn't seem to like it. Yes, he temporarily appeared here and there with a black beret, a pipe, the wool knickers and the books. It seemed to have limited effect. He was just another face in the mob of zombies at the Tacoma Mall and Starbuck's. It was a "nice try", however. RE: not appreciating music. You're right, I had the years of piano lessons. Ten years of classical training to be exact and I continue to play such music along with jazz and lounge and a variety of other styles. (And I was even in a sarcastic little punk rock band back in 78/79 called "Rotten Fruit" in which I played keyboards and wrote a few utterly worthless songs including "Don't Pull that Crap on Me" and "Take a trip on the Goon-Balloon"). And my buddy pope is far from musically illiterate and has long been a fan of Jazz well before his beret experience although it might have inspired his experiment.

So, now that your car is fixed, you can now go out, find a pleasant setting where pedestrians roam (like near the water in Portland), whip out that guitar and wait for them hippie chicks who are probably all bundled up in many layers of warmth...which is probably a good thing.

aloha! - Dwayner

p.s. Thanks for calling me and pope a couple of "cats". Hep-cats we are.

[pope]

Right, the "mysterioso" thing wasn't a way of life or anything, and Dwayner, I was never seen wearing a beret or smoking a pipe at Starbuck's with the "zombies" you describe. Let's just say I had a hunch that the pseudo-intellectual hippie climber gals at the college would fall for it, and what do you know? It never bothered me that they didn't want to discuss the novels I was reading, that they limited their reading to visceral crap like D.H. Lawrence. Most of them wanted to go on rock-climbing trips but didn't really like climbing. They just wanted to "make the scene", I suppose. But again, none of this bothered me, 'cause they were hot, and 'cause I'd found a ridiculous way to get their attention, and they could belay. Inspite of what Dwayner will say about it, the "mysterioso" thing was a highly effective for meeting exotic (occasionally hygienically unkempt) split-tail, if a bit humiliating. More effective than the wedding ring trick....but that's a different story.