Daddy Post Sans Girls

Daddy Post: While this is usually a place for reminiscing about Ruby & Willa, this is a brief post showing some of the things I spent the past week doing while in Chamonix visiting my friends the Kindcaids. I suppose I was there to do a little snowboarding as well. For those not in the know, Chamonix is generally regarded as one of the top, if not the top, resort destination in the world for skiing and snowboarding. Located in the middle of the alps at the crux of France, Italy, and Switzerland it's pretty amazing being dwarfed by huge cathedral peaks everywhere go. Not to get all evangelical or preachy, but I generally regard my church as consisting of how I view the world. If there were a physical locale for my church then consider the mountains my Vatican, my Mecca, my Genges, my Jerusalem. Corny I know, but I just wanted to provide a sense of the personal grounding, cleansing, and rebirth a trip like this had for me.

The trip over was exceptionally long with a 6 hour layover in SF which fortunately allowed me to catch up with John for a few hours. Wajma was also able to join us for breakfast which was nice. From there to Frankfurt I had the "pleasure" of being pinned in my window seat by a 6 person rock band out of Sweden named "Melancholy". Nice guys I suppose, but they generally spent most of the trip getting drunk. To pass the time I had to endure "The Secret Life of Bees". "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" made up for it though. From there it was a quick flight to Geneva then an 80 min. shuttle to Chamonix.

Che, Wendi, and Amelie have rented out an apartment for approximately six weeks while on sabbatical from Nike. They were exceptionally generous throughout and even though they apologized for me having to sleep on the couch I actually enjoyed it thoroughly as it had the nostalgia of couch surfing during my vagabond days. Their daughter Amelie and I bonded quite a bit as I was more than willing to have a surrogate child around to fill the emotional gap of being removed from Ruby & Willa. Being away from Marty was a bit tougher though.

The first 3 days were very sunny and spring-like in their conditions which worked out well for getting acclimated and familiar with the mountain. The second day we went over to the Italian side of the alps to Courmayeur where we got a little lost and had to put up with some Italian "hospitality" which consisted of being largely irritated and annoyed by such stupid Americans. To get back at them I only had two scoops of gelato instead of three. There will be no Stockton stimulus package for the Italians. The third day out we hired a mountain guide named Romain to take us to find some reasonably good conditions since we would be finding any in-bounds given that it hadn't snowed for a week plus. He spoke very little english, but seemed pleasant enough. He took us up to the top of Le Tour and we hiked about 3+ hours up a relatively large face where we were able to ride down an exceptionally large valley marked with huge aqua-blue glaciers and ice flows. We ended up in a small Swiss village where we shared a beer while waiting for the bus back to France.

On the fourth day we took a break to recoup our strength and relax around town which was great because that night it started to snow. The next day we had pretty ideal powder conditions with decent visibility. The day consisted of getting fresh lines and enough face shots to consider using a snorkel. We were hoping the next day would be replenished, but the front let up and we had to settle for left overs which were still pretty good. Our legs were pretty shot by then so at least we didn't miss too much. The next day I started my long pilgrimage back home starting at 4AM. Pretty uneventful for the most part, but here are a few quick observations:

-The international terminal at Frankfurt sucked as its men's rooms consisted of one stall and a sink. Not even a urinal. Evidently, the Germans don't have their shit together as much as I thought or they just don't like outsiders.

-The US bag check at Frankfurt was also lame considering it was the second bag check of my day. The line was ridiculously long and poorly organized. The woman that checked my messenger bag that I use for school somehow found it necessary to take most everything out down to the very last thing. Things like dry erase pens, a pocket dictionary, pencils, chapstick, flashdrives, etc. Once she gets it all laid out on the table, in the name of national security (aka fear mongering), she says she's all done and leaves me to repack it all. Thanks Hilda.

-The exceptionally long nature of the line did produce a variety of anxieties and tensions among would be passengers. One woman was working through the line explaining that she had two cats on her flight and that if she didn't make it on they would be distressed. This seemed to work quite well and I may have to use it sometime in the future if I find myself in a pinch. She also explained that she needed help as she left her blackberry at her previous gate. I don't know what her expectations were as far as getting help, but it was a good reminder that sometimes we have to accept that we're fucked. I also enjoyed watching a recent neophyte (he only had a little stubble bush on the back of his head that would eventually become a pony tail) to the Hare Krishna cult try to persuade the checker that he needed to bypass the line so he didn't miss his flight. While he explained this he slowly and rhythmically tapped his drum as a means for creating either a hypnotic trance or soliciting a blessing from Krishna. Neither worked and his flustered self was forced to the back of the line. This made me happy. Unfortunately, he'll probably chock up his misfortune to the notion that he didn't tap his drum properly.

-The diversity of passengers was impressive as I was surrounded by several nationalities and ethnicities. Muslims and Hindus had a strong turnout along with a few Sikhs. The Hindis and Sikhs probably had about a 1:1 child/adult ratio.

-Lastly, there was interesting incident when boarding the flight. When trying to pack my carry-on in the overhead bin I picked the one with the magazine rack. Not deterred I decided that I could squeeze it in there. It was a bit tight and required a bit of punching, but I managed to get it in far enough to shut the compartment. The 50+ year old German lesbian couple beneath the compartment were not as easily impressed and evidently neither was the male flight attended who lectured me that he heard plastic cracking therefore claiming that "evidently it does not fit." I'm not sure what "fitting" means in Germany but if I'm able to get my bag in there and shut the door then it "fits". That aside I acquiesced and removed my luggage to the sound of several loud snap, crackle, and pops. The same lesbian couple guffawed at me and my stupidity. Ok, so I used the term "interesting" loosely, but I thought it was kind of funny.

So, I'm back home now and feeling renewed. Marty did an amazing job with the girls and they were enthusiastically glad to have me return which made me feel loved which was nice. Being gone for just a week didn't seem like much yet Ruby seems to have matured into a little conversationalist and Willa is catching up rapidly. I am immensely grateful and indebted to the generosity and support provided by Martha and the Kincaids. Thank You.

Here are some pictures for those that don't have the patience or desire to read this exceptionally long post.