November 14, 2000

I often get caught up in the drama of life. I hate drama, but I say or do things that bring it on myself. Sometimes the drama just seems to follow me for no reason. I’ve been right, and I’ve been wrong, and other times I didn’t care. Just like normal life, snowboarding’s also drama. The drama happens because choices have to be made.

You’re standing in the liftline for 30 minutes when someone who just showed up snakes to the front.

Someone steals your goggles when you go to get a hot cocoa.

You go to bed early in order to wake up for first chair. Then your roommate comes home at 3:00 a.m. and starts playing the drums.

The condo complex’s security makes you stop sliding the kinked handrail.

Skiers are in the halfpipe.

You get arrested for clipping tickets in the parking lot.

The judges scored you lower than you thought you deserved.

Your season’s pass is taken away for verbally abusing a bartender.

The ski patrol stops you at the bottom of a cliff ban, one where a rope had to be ducked in order to ride.

The local super pro keeps cutting you off in the park.

The snowboard magazine you work for constantly censors your work so advertising and newsstand sales won’t be affected.

You and a couple of friends spend all day building a quarterpipe and when it’s finished, others show up to jump it.

A film crew comes to your mountain and builds a jump, then refuses to let you hit it even once.

Someone makes fun of you or your riding ability.

You’re flunking English, so your mom won’t let you go snowboarding for the weekend.

So what do you do? What is really worth fighting for? Should you just lay down and die?

About my choices

There have been times when I actually punched the snow because I wasn’t happy with my riding. I’ve been to anger-management courses. On occasion I’ll act self-righteous. I put Consolidated’s Don’t Do It stickers on all my boards. I work at business to make money and at times have compromised my principals. I’ve acted like a policeman, I’ve ordered people to the back of the line. But, I hate cops and heroes. (I’ve never requested their assistance either.) Thinking about my choices makes me tired.–David Sypniewski