He's dined with kings and presidents and princes of industry. Met with film stars and sports heroes and big-name celebrities. He's carried the Whistler torch around the world - from Torino to Stockholm, from Beijing to New York. He's spoken to hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Passionately. Honestly. And with the same rough-hewn delivery he's always had.
For one thing is clear about hizzoner Ken Melamed. You can take the man out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains out of the man.
Always refreshing to talk with, Melamed rarely pulls his punches. Sure, he's learned to be slightly more diplomatic with time. But he's just as direct now as he was in his pro patrol days at Whistler Mountain. I mean, when he barked back then, you listened. Sure, some of the high-rollers in this valley might dismiss him for his lack of sophistication. But don't be fooled. There's a lot more to Melamed than meets the eye.
And now, with the Games less than a month away, he finds himself with just a little breathing room to reflect on what's transpired and what's to come.
"It's kind of surreal," says Whistler's second-term mayor. A quick smile flits across his features. "I mean, we've worked on this for so long. Wrestled with the problems. Dealt with the issues. And now it's upon us..." He laughs. "Sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."
Melamed and I are sitting in his office at Muni Hall. Neat and tidy, and with few hints at just how busy the guy is (other than the incessant ringing of the telephone), his version of the mayor's chambers divulges few clues to his personal life. That's okay though. I'm not here to uncover secrets. You see, I've known Kenny for most of my adult life. Not well, mind you. But we share a lot of mutual friends. And a fierce love of mountain life. Which is why, probably, I still struggle to picture him in his political/executive role.
There's absolutely nothing slick about the guy. No hidden agenda. No favours for a friend. No making deals to get further ahead. Love him. Respect him. Loathe him. Despise him. Whatever. He's his own man. And he wears his passions on his sleeve.
I mean, you look at Mayor Pretty-Face in Vancouver, all high cheekbones and photogenic fashions and smug, canary-in-the-mouth smiles. The man is a walking billboard for false. I can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth.
Not Kenny. A mountain-inflected amalgam that blends a little Inspector Clouseau with a hefty dose of the old Mighty Mouse cartoon character, Melamed is so real it hurts. Short, balding and wielding a slightly pugnacious conversation style, he favours ball caps and fleece jackets over suits and ties. He'd much rather be on his skis in the mountains than attend yet another VIP cocktail. And when it comes to matters he feels strongly about, the 55-year-old can be surprisingly blunt.
But that all pales next to his record. For if you judge him by his years of activism at Whistler, there is no denying his impact. Almost single-handedly - at least on the local political front - Ken has nudged Whistler's environmental conscience from laissez-faire to almost-progressive. And it's not like he lacks charisma. From AWARE president, to elected eco-warrior on three different councils, to surprise mayoral victor in the last two elections - the guy who "doesn't look the part" just keeps getting elected. "It's been a pretty amazing journey," he admits. "Could I have ever imagined this process when I moved here 35 years ago? No way..."
He surrenders to a bout of laughter. Then resumes. "I like to think of myself as a product of this place," he says. "Whistler is where I grew up and matured. I was surrounded by a great group of passionate and talented athletes. They had a huge impact on me." He stops speaking. Takes a breath. "Credibility - authenticity - that's all part of local culture here. I mean, Whistler just doesn't tolerate big talkers. Either you can ski the breakable crust or you can't. It's that simple."
Did I mention he could be blunt? But let's keep listening. "I still remember when I first moved to Whistler - I was in such awe of the skiers here." Another quick pause. "As you know, skiing wasn't easy back then. Grooming was non-existent, so you either skied bumps or you didn't ski..."
Whistler's quirky weather conditions certainly nurtured a core of strong skiers. But it was more than just the conditions. Rather, it was the potent blend of people and environment here that truly set the tone. "You really had to step up your game," admits Melamed. "I remember working as a liftee on the old Blue Chair. I had a half-hour lunch break and if I really pushed it, I could get three full runs in. So that's what I'd do every day. On my 1977 ski patrol application, I remember writing 'I can ski on any pitch, in any condition and in any light.' And that was on 205 cm skis!"
He smiles. "I think that's still one of the things that adds integrity to the overall Whistler story. This is still a place where people come to recreate - but with the performance bar set very high." He sighs. "Which has its downside too. A lot of people leave Whistler because they feel they can't meet the standards..."
But that's their decision to make, he says. "My sense is that this community has a lot of tolerance for folks who aren't at that level. Now that I'm in my middle years - and not pushing the performance envelope as hard as I once did - I'm seeing a lot of people out there enjoying their recreation at a much-reduced performance level. And that's great. After all, it's not about how good you are. It's whether or not you're taking advantage of all the wonderful things this community has to offer."
Indeed. So what about the Games? How does he feel now that they're almost here?
"I have so many mixed feelings right now. I'm excited. Nervous. Apprehensive. Proud. The Games are an important part of our story now. They're not the be-all or end-all. I want to make that perfectly clear. The Games will come and go and when all the hoopla is over we'll still be here wrestling with all the same issues we were dealing with before." But in the meantime, he says "let's make sure we don't lose sight of the fact that these Games are an amazingly good fit for this community."
Think about it, he says. "The Olympics are all about celebrating sport and culture. So let's enjoy the festival for what it is. Besides, the IOC stands for some great ideals - peace and fellowship and healthy living. Isn't that what Whistler stands for too?"
And those very ideals, adds Melamed, are what Whistler needs to nurture if the community wants to stay healthy in the coming years. "This didn't happen by accident," he says. "The Games are an incredible tribute to this place - to our culture, our people and the mountains that surround us. So let's celebrate that. Let's have fun for the next few weeks. Let's be the best hosts we can be." He stops. Sighs. Then chuckles quietly. "After that, we'll just have to roll up our sleeves and get working on the future..."
So what about the future? Melamed rolls his eyes. "We definitely have some challenges ahead," he says. "I've always believed that Whistler needs to remain humble. We're not the best yet. Not even as good as we could be. That said, we want to make sure that we don't offer our guests a 'homogenized' mountain experience either. By that, I mean we need to stay true to our identity. We have to keep asking the question: 'What makes us distinct? What makes us special?'"
The question of growth is also a sensitive subject with Whistlerities. Melamed believes it will become an even more important debate in coming years. Consider, he tells me, environmental economist Herman Daly's quote "the economy is a wholly-owned subsidiary of the environment."
"By that," says Melamed, "Daly means that all generated wealth has at its roots the free ecological services of the planet. Take Whistler - here we are selling the services of an ecosystem at risk." A long pause. "Heck, we don't even know if there will be snow here in 30 years. So what do we do then?" He shakes his head in near despair. "I don't want to sound like an anti-capitalist, but it's clear to me that our obsession with the economy here and globally has hampered the functioning of the ecological services. And it leads me to only one conclusion: I'm afraid the path that we are currently on is undermining the long-term economic viability of our community!"
But there's still hope, he says. "For me, the magic of skiing encompasses a lot more than the adrenaline rush I first felt sliding down the hill on snow. Now it's the trees and the forests and the peaks and the sky. It's the texture of the snow on a cold January morning. The way your skin tingles after a day on the mountain. It's all so damn valuable. And worth protecting, for sure."
I can see our time is quickly coming to an end. Mayor Ken is fidgeting; he has an important call he has to take. But he doesn't want to be rude. "Do you think you have enough for a story," he asks me. I tell him not to worry. I've got more than enough...
