Maxed Out 

Welcome to the promised land

By G.D. Maxwell

Yikes! And I thought Halloween was scary. Four more years without a regime change? Republican gains in both houses of Congress? A divided elec….

( Editor’s Note : We interrupt this political rant for a change of subject. Repeated focus groups have shown a complete lack of interest in the subject. Besides, there’s snow on the ground now and Max’s new contract limits him to writing about U.S. politics no more frequently than twice a year. It’s local colour and those cute dog and cat stories… or the unemployment line!)

Alrighty then.

As I was saying, with SNOW ON THE GROUND, colder temps, more divine sloppy weather headed our way, the tantalizing possibility of an early opening and more fresh faces wandering aimlessly around the village than at any time since the Methodist Ski Club held their Ski & Synod here, I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome all the new, instant locals to our happy mountain home. Welcome seekers; this is the promised land.

By now, you’ve no doubt found a place to live. Couch surfing doesn’t count. If that’s what you’re doing, put the pipe down and go find a place to live. I know it’s expensive; get used to it.

If you do have a place to live, you may be the heir apparent of well-to-do parents, staying in their vacation home or condo, lounging in their hot tub and, if they really love you, drinking their liquor. If that describes you, contact me through Pique and I’ll be happy to come over and give you private consultations on the fine art of passing for a local. Lesson One: Maxing out daddy’s Amex and providing a perfectly legitimate-sounding excuse.

The rest of you bums are either living in staff housing or have cast your budding republican fates to the cruel forces of the housing market. Those of you living in staff are undoubtedly too stoned to have read this far. Good luck to you and rest comfortably in the knowledge that none of the protections afforded by British Columbia’s landlord-tenant laws apply to you.

Those of you who have bitten the bullet and rented places, congratulations; without your willingness to pay ridiculous rents, Whistler’s economy would pretty much collapse around the ankles of everyone who paid way too much for the homes you’re living in. If you were lucky enough to come out here with 10 or 12 of your buds from Toronto or Halifax, you probably already know your roommates. If not, this is a very important time for you. Your happiness – and the chance of actually lasting an entire season here – depends on getting to know and love the new people you’re living with.

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