Maxed Out

The first time I stood in a starting gate with a pair of skis on my feet and looked down the hill at a course of blue and red gates I felt eerily calm. Truth be told, I felt virtually nothing at all.

Someone once said — and I won't bore you with who might have said it — "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

I'm missing the stunning spring skiing in Whistler and, instead, glimpsing the sun in Arizona while I help my mother make me an orphan.

About a year ago, on my birthday, my Wonderful Wife asked me a question at dinner. It was one of those questions, the ones for which I never have a good answer.

A friend recently posted a facetious statement on a social media site in response to a news story posting.

"Math class is tough." Often misquoted as, "Math is hard," Barbie's confession had an interesting impact on popular culture.

Baby, it's cold outside. OK, maybe it isn't that cold this winter but it's too cold to pull on an extra sweater and turn off the heat inside your posh cave.

With apologies, this week's column is more or less a rerun.

With the seasonal excess of Christmas and New Year's celebrations behind us, it is time to get down to the serious business of being a frivolous resort municipality.

As years go, 2014 was a five outta ten kind of year, not entirely a Rip Van Winkle snoozefest but a year that came in with a whimper, is going out with a whimper and rarely rose to a yowl in the days in between.