Dispatch from Whistler, British Columbia

I like Whistler, British Columbia, because of its staggering natural beauty and its heavy snow - you know, the kind of snow that stirs up images of mom's mashed potatoes or the seconds bin at a down pillow manufacturer.  But mainly, I like Whistler because I like Canadians, Aussies, Brits, and other members of the Commonwealth of Nations who descend on this master-planned town like tweakers to a methadone clinic.

crummy video of crummy snow from yours truly 

I don't like contrived Europa and contrived Europa Whistler is... on the surface. If you look under the stairwells of any Whistler establishment, you are sure to find cases of Europe-in-a-can.  Come on!  Trying that hard is not becoming. And if you lean too hard on the "stone walls," which adorn the sides of the many "pubs," "creperies," and "pastarias," you are sure to fall through, revealing the Wizard of Whistler. No, you're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, but you're not in the Old World, either.

The interiors of many of the eating establishments are adorned with "bolt-on art" and other fun and quirky mountain sport paraphernalia. (Did they ask to borrow a page out of the Applebees playbook? Egad!)

Needless to say, Gstaad this is not, but it doesn't have to be. On my last trip to Whistler, I actually met one of the guys who helped construct it back in the early 1960s. He said that back then there was no theme, no faux-stone walls, no bolt-on art. It was pure, rugged British Columbia and it was AWESOME.

Like I said before, "prep" is supposed to be authentic, not contrived. Cascadian prep should be no different. To expand on this concept, a world class ski area in a world class country should not be contrived.  It should be natural and effortless with a go-to-hell attitude.

Photographic examples of Whistler retailers trying too hard. In the last 6 or 7 times I've been to Whistler, these same Dale of Norway items have not moved one inch (I mean 2.54 centimeters).

And what's with the kits below?  Target audience being whom? You don't go to a resort to buy for the next season.  You buy for what you need right now.

BC Bud

"Chronic," "Skeech," "Sticky Icky," "Broccoli" - these, but a few of the names for that natural green drug, and all of which I learned from white collar professionals in the last few years. Some of these people smoke it; others do not; some lie about it; others do not. In any case, "pot" - I'll call it since that's what it was called when I first found out about it as a kid - seems to be growing in popularity and acceptance in upper middle-class, middle-aged, professional circles.

No longer fodder for the wannabe hippie, Bohemian, or tortured artist, pot seems to have crept into our everyday discourse.  On the golf course or on a ski lift, your attorney or broker just might give you the "Is this cool?" head nod, before sparking up. If you are "cool with it," you need not be afraid of being asked if you want some.  "Puff-Puff-Pass," now solely the domain of the aforementioned wannabe hippie or Bohemian due to its strong socialist overtones, does not play with your white collar friend. No, you are going to have to ask him. 

Here in the Pacific Northwest, "BC Bud" is supposed to be the fashizzle. They do hot house tomatoes well up there, why not weed? I'm amused by the fact that pot has terroir - like wine. Mexican Gold, Texas Tea, Colorado Cocktail, Maui Wauie - all of which denote the soil, water, and climate in which it was cultivated. Heck, I even think tasting notes are available for it.

My intent here is not to judge or disclose whether I use it or not, although I wouldn't want my daughter smoking it. My intent here is to help substantiate, through my own personal observations, that pot is an indulgence - no - rather, a relaxation tool for the classic prep* and quite possibly for the Cascadian prep, as well.  

* Click here for a fun little posting from the good people at Stuff WASPs Like on this very subject.
* Click here for an Admiral Cod posting, which lingers in the mind like the clouds over the Pacific Northwest, evoking thoughts of  Alex Garland's The Beach.