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Waiting for La Niña

So little time; so much procrastination. If there’s anything worse for a terminal procrastinator than a project with a deadline so far in the future it’s barely visible, let alone not looming, it’s a project with no real deadline at all.
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So little time; so much procrastination.

If there’s anything worse for a terminal procrastinator than a project with a deadline so far in the future it’s barely visible, let alone not looming, it’s a project with no real deadline at all. Such is the shoulder season’s Dead Zone, that interminable time between late October and opening day of ski season.

The Dead Zone is a time for which coping mechanisms were created. If I could remember what they were, I could cope. But coping this year is about as easy as bringing an Olympics-related project in on budget.

Part of the difficulty of just waiting around for snow is remembering the kickass start to last season. You may remember last season… then again, you may have just rolled into town and only heard of last season. Whatever you may have heard, or think you may remember, we were not skiing waist-deep powder on Remembrance Day. It was the next day, you substance-addled optimist.

Coping is also harder than usual this year because this is allegedly a La Niña year. For those of you not entirely fluent in the language enjoyed south of south of the border, La Niña roughly translates into “the Niña”. You’re welcome. La Niña is the tarted-up kid sister to El Niño, who enjoyed some popularity on the pro wrestling circuit several years ago as a grotesque, masked villain, the kind of guy who favours sneaking up behind the golden-locked Good Guy and smacking him over the head with an ever-handy folding chair. But, in the best spirit of the Dead Zone, I digress.

La Niña generally bodes well for Whistler’s snowsliders. Except when she doesn’t. During one recent appearance, the kind-hearted, Earth Mother incarnation of La Niña brought so much snow with her that many features on Whistler and Blackcomb were distorted beyond recognition. Formerly steep slopes were transformed into advanced bunny hills because so much snow had built up at their bases. If memory serves, it was the year several tourists became lost and had to be rescued when they were silly or cheap enough to show up on ancient, straight, skinny skis and sank into powder so bottomless they couldn’t make their way back to the surface.

Of course, that was just before global warming was invented. That’s not entirely accurate. Technically, global warming had been invented by then… but the origins of it were still unclear. One group, the scientists — at least those not on the payroll of oil or coal companies — believed man’s never-ending quest for bigger SUVs and self-storage units was, if not the culprit, certainly more than a bit player. In the other camp we had the Saint Reagan, Ralph Klein theories of how, respectively, trees and dinosaur farts were largely responsible. Oh, you may laugh at such follies now — come to think of it, many of us laughed at the time — but you have to bear in mind we’re talking about the then leaders of the free world and Alberta, both of whom, in their own ways, had a lot more sway over what happened than all the scientists in existence.

But again, I digress. The problem with La Niña, global warming notwithstanding, is her fickleness. Sometimes she shows up early. Sometimes she shows up late. Sometimes she sends her doppelganger while she frolics on a beach somewhere. Sometimes she excuses herself on the pretense of going to the powder room — not that kind of powder — and skips out after ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. She’s such a joker.

All this aside, the point here, assuming there is one, is this: You need distractions to get from now to then, then being the first time you get off a chairlift and start sliding downhill.

In the unselfish spirit of providing a public service, and to avoid harping on the incredibly stupid, money-wasting renovation — from the Latin words reno , “this is a stickup”, and vate , “everybody stay calm” — that’s gridlocked the trash compactor/recycling/bottle depot site next to the Muni works yard — I offer here a few kernels of wisdom on how to get through the next few days/weeks… without completely losing it and rashly deciding to study for your real estate license. If you’re an old Whistler hand, you already know this stuff. If you’re new to town, you just may avoid becoming one of us if you heed this advice.

First and foremost, alcohol is not a coping mechanism. It is fun, and recent medical breakthroughs have proven that a certain amount of it, taken orally and daily, is actually good for you. But a “certain amount” is an amount smaller than most of us spill during a reasonably sober night on the town.

Second, first things first. Over the years, experts on survival have pored over reports of people suddenly finding themselves in strange, hostile surroundings, Squamish for example. They have distilled their findings into a priority list of things you need to make sure you live to tell the tale of your strange journey. That list is equally applicable to each and every one of you who are, right about now, asking yourself just how long you need to be in this town before you can, without blushing, call yourself a local.

Here’s the list: Shelter, water, food, alcohol, sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll.

If you haven’t wrestled the shelter thing to the ground already, don’t worry about it. That’s not to say shelter isn’t important. It’s just to say you shouldn’t worry about it. You shouldn’t worry about it for two very important reasons. First, worrying won’t help you find a place to live. Second, neither will anything else. You might as well pack your bag, call your folks and tell them to send you the money to get back to Ontario.

If that sound’s harsh, it’s not meant to be. It’s meant to get your folks to send you enough money to stick around long enough to find a place to live. Jeesh, do I have to paint you a picture here? These are SURVIVAL skills.

Next, a job. You may already have a job. So what. Get another. The most sought-after employees in Whistler are housekeepers and food beverage workers. Housekeeping jobs offer the chance to clean up after someone you don’t know. A perk of the job is pilfering cleaning supplies. Food bev jobs offer you the chance to work around great food. Perks include food and, depending on where you work, the rest of the list of things you need to survive. You decide.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, don’t believe everything you read.