August 04, 2006 Features & Images » Feature Story

Capturing a market 

Lisa Richardson writes a love letter home to Whistler from aboard a bilge-spewing, baby-boomer cleaving Alaska cruise ship.

Not exactly in her element, Whistler local Lisa Richardson toughs out a week-long Alaskan cruise to celebrate her mom's 60th. Photo by Lisa Richardson
  • Not exactly in her element, Whistler local Lisa Richardson toughs out a week-long
    Alaskan cruise to celebrate her mom's 60th. Photo by Lisa Richardson

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I love how hard-core you are. That you’re pushing your limits and charging and surrounding yourself with the brilliant, the beautiful, the talented. But it’s okay to make it easy for people too. It is okay to show compassion to the stumblers, the dazed, the people who need to know where the nearest Starbucks is even as they’re standing outside a perfectly good java establishment. They’re looking for the same thing we are, babe: a moment of transcendence from the everyday.

I confess I like that yin-yang thing you have going on, too. That little bit of bad-ass in you, trying to see how many of the seven deadly sins you can indulge in before your daypass to heaven gets revoked. And then the nights you stay up wondering if maybe it’s time you got respectable, grew up, were taken seriously. Walking that thin vibrating line of the establishment and the fringe, never 100 per cent sure which side you’re on. I don’t think I want you to choose. I like that space where the conflict hangs, that friction. It gives me the space to be at odds with myself.

You care about your shit. Other people do to, you know. For some reason, what you do with your shit is the clearest statement of what you’re about, of who you really are. I’m glad you’re taking responsibility for it, not palming it off to someone else, even if it will cost you more. I’m glad you work hard to integrate being green into everything you do. How twisted is this… I’m even professing my love for your shit.

What I’m trying to say is that you won me over. I know you said I should see other people. And I tried. With open eyes. And as open a heart as I could. But mine was taken long ago. And frankly, nothing else quite measures up.

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