Showing our Stuff

Students at Park City High discovered first hand what it really means to have the right to free speech when they swarmed the stage Sunday to counter to hateful messages of the Westboro Baptist Church. It felt like a party as everyone showed up, with laughter, chatting, and just a playful mood in the air. While the WBC chanted behind us, we held up signs ranging from the peaceful to the comedic and just nonsensical. And it felt really good. The whole spectrum of students came, from jocks to hippies to preppies, and everyone sang and chanted together, everything form "Defense" to "Hey Jude." We were a team, a community, and it felt very empowering to show it to the world. Cars honked as they drove by, and the sound got drowned out in the ensuing screams and whistles. Under the bright sun we felt like we had made a difference, stood up for something we cared about. The WBC left, heads hanging, but nobody cared. We had drowned out a hateful group with our own light-heartedness, we could see the gears of democracy and free speech turning undereath our feet. The world was ours during that hour.

Then came protest number two. From the start it felt different. The sun was down, it was cold outside. The WBC was back in full force, but half the students had gone home, getting ready for school the next day. The lines for the Sundance films were twice as large now, but we didn't have any support from the cars driving by this time. As we gathered, frosty breath hanging in the air, the mood could not have been more different. There was anger this time, on both sides of the picket lines. Gone were the feelings of playfullness. We were still comrades, but comrades in arms now. We found our ranks swollen with strangers, other festival goers who had come to join, but also to change our protest. This crowd was angry, fired up. Maybe because the different demographics, maybe because the church had dared come back, maybe simply because it was cold out, but this time the blood ran hot. We were facing the protester's this time, giving them all our attention. The signs had swung from playful to aggressive, as had the chants and shouts. The director marched out, followed by a media mob, bright, harsh lights flashing, starkly illuminating the scene. This was when it began to get scary. While nothing happened, the feeling was very definately that of a pre-battle, of a pysch up before the charge. People started pacing, waving the signs wildly, yelling, a frothing mouth would not have seemed out of place. Finally the church left and the protest ended, but the students who attended both got the full lesson: both the power and the responsibility of free speech. We had done something wonderful, something powerful, and we had very nearly lost control of it.

Snow Demographics

It's an oft-repeated fact that there are 80 words for snow in Inuit. However, less commonly know is that there are various words for skier and boarder too: park junky, powder hound, speed demon, high flyer, low rider, the list goes on. In fact, to take a tour around the resorts is almost like walking through a zoo. Getting in through the crowded gates with your ticket can be stressfull, but once you're in the crows disperses and you can enjoy the views. From the safety of a chair lift you can look at the park junkies lounging areound like so many seals, grouping above the jumps and occasionally seperating from the herd to perform an astounding athletic feat and then joining the next lethargic group 100 feet farther down. Once you reach the top of the mountain and start down the hill, a pack of racers can whiz by like gazelles, sleek and focused as they blow past in a gust of wind and snow. Also visible dotted around the slopes are the close cousins to the racers, the speed demons. Compared to the strict pattern the racers run as they shoot from race course to lunch to training-grounds, the solitary speed demon can be found wherever the monstrous snow cats have been, It is widely believed that these solitary creatures actually prey on snow cats, because after thorough observation it can be concluded that they follow the cat tracks and so-called "groomers" as fast as is physically possible, abandoning all responsibility and safety in the hunt for the snow machines. If you are lucky in your travels, you may come across the rare powder hound. These creatures tend to stay away from the more populated areas, lurking in the trees or at the peaks. Identifiable by the newest gear, extra fat skis, and, after succesfull hunts, faces and heads covered in snow. They travel in packs, but once the soft, fluffy prey is sighted there is no teamwork or friendship. The creatures go in to a "snow-lust," losing all reasoning and self control until the powder has been thoroughly skiied out. However, all these wonderful specimens, from the powder hounds to the park junkies, are under constant threat from an invasive species that overrruns their habitats and often upsets their feeding habits: the tourist. Noticable by new, unused gear; gaps of an inch or more between helmets and goggles; out-dated or ill-fitting clothing, and especially by the akward gait and tendency to fall.

Black Friday

Yesterday was that day again, Black Friday. After all the heartfelt, gooey camraderie and goodfeelings of working together on Thanksgiving, it's a relief to cancel it all out with a good day of cut-throat, backstabbing competition over vacuum cleaners and iPods. The world needs to be balanced, right? We couldn't just have a day celebrating a time where everyone came together, and then leave it like that. The good feelings would spoil faster than the leftover turkey. Instead, we remind ourselves that America wasn't built on those wimpy synergistic ideals. It's much more important to celebrate the American legacy by fighting against out neighbors in order to save a few pennies. And it's more historically accurate. Did the Indians and Pilgrims just live in peace and prosperity after that first Thanksgiving? Of course not, the next day they were at each others throats, for cheap land instead of cheap shoes, but it's the idea that counts. I for one am glad that we finally got all this nonsensicial teamwork out of the way, because that's obviously not what Thanksgiving is about. It's apparent that the turkey day is really made so everyone can celebrate their obscene riches by stuffing themselves at least ten times as much as is reasonable for survival. Because if we eat ten times as much, we'll be ten times healthier and live ten times longer, right? It's simple math that we learn as children. And lest anyone worry that Christmas will be an aftershock of goodheartedness and fuzzy feelings, the car companies have the situation under control, reminding everyone that Christmas is really about buying things you don't need, because obviously happiness only comes from materiel goods. Why else would we celebrate buy eating candy, eating turkey, buying presents, eating Easter eggs, and all the rest of the consmer holidays. It's the American spirit, after all.

(For anyone that's worried, this was my first sloppy attempt at satire)

SNOW!

Park City collectively rejoiced this morning as the town woke up to a thick blanket of sparkling, fluffy Utah powder, perfectly matching the opening day of Park City Resort. In a ski town like this one, there is nothing so invigorating or unifying as the first fresh foot that falls from the sky. The streets filled with people going for a walk in the first snow storm of the year, occasionally punctuated with spontaneous snowball skirmishes or snow angels in the roads. It wasn't until the families started to head back for home that the true gravity of the situation started to pile up faster than the little flakes. Snow meant winter. Obviously the main attraction of winter is skiing or boarding, and this excitement is what brought on the celebrations. But skiing isn't so simple. For those who were caught off guard, as it is easy to do, all of a sudden the lack of skies, fitting clothes, passes, and plans started to sink in. Especially for teens, winter can be the most trying season of the year. The need for equipment entails a need for money, or some very generous parents. Although it's always worth it, breaking open that piggy bank to pick up a pass, or shelling out a year's savings for new skis is hardly pleasant. Along with the dough drain, there's just the plain work. School starts to pick up, and weekends become more and more busy, just as kids finally have something to do on the weekends. Shoveling and snow blowing also help add a new set of chores. Driving in the winter weather means snow tires, longer trips, cautionary warnings from parents every time you leave the house. The combined pressure of all these is incredibly poorly timed, because the time you really want to spend all day everyday on the mountain is the same time you have the most other obligations to attend to. But hey, you'll still find time to go enjoy that fresh snow, and that's all that matters.

Carrying Plastic

As teens go through leaps and bounds towards "freedom," (or at least being an adult, as it is in question how free they actually are), one of the big steps along the way is that first bank account equipped with a magical plastic card that let's you buy things without money. Well, not exactly, but it can seem that way. Credit or debit cards can be unbelievably handy, in a few ways. They eliminate that agonizing choice of how much money to carry in the wallet, always trying to balance between having enough to spend and having too much, making you either a spendthrift or paranoid about losing it. With the card, you carry all your money with you, but if disaster does strike, all those caboodles of cash are not instantly gone. With any luck and a phone call or too, you can get another card and get right back to swiping it. It probably also saves you money in the long run. All those countless pennies and dimes that jingle in your pocket, get deposited somewhere and mysteriously disappear now stay safely in your bank account. After maybe 5 purchases, that could be a whole candy bar you're saving. The problem is that it is all to easy to use a card. You don't feel the physical sense of loss as you hand over a wad of cash, and you aren't shocked back to your senses when you open up a sad, empty wallet. Instead, you can blissfully spend all that hard earned dough in a free-fall of careless generosity towards yourself until you suddenly hit the ground with the earth-jarring realization that you just blew your whole stash of cash. So credit cards are really just like anything else: the better it feels or seems the worse it is for you.

Trick-or-treating: How old is too old?

Halloween is fast approaching, blowing in on the cool autumn winds. With Halloween comes the excitement of costumes, parties, and candy gallore. But teens may be in a tricky situation regarding their treats. There's no defined cut-off age limit for trick-or-treating, but wherever it is, the general consensus is that teens, especially 15 and older, are above that line. When tromping around neighborhoods lugging pillowcases to be filled, more and more often they end up trudging back home, sacks woefully light, the victims of age-descriminating candy givers. They may be a little old, but candy tastes just as good at higher ages, so often resourcefull students will find ways to grab the treats anyways. The easiest way is of course to play babysitter. A younger child acts as a free-pass for candy, as people are much kinder towards the caring older sibling than they are towards a greedy teenager. When no small sibling is available, often it falls upon the smallest member of the group to take up the duty. Choose a childish, conealing costume, like a ghost, and any vertically challenged person can help bring in the candy. Of course, teens always find other ways to humiliate themselves to get what they want. Originality goes a long way towards convinving candy-misers to open their bowls. Improvised skits, songs, stories; all will be attempted this year in the quest for candy. But of course the best hastily slapped together plans still fail. When that happens, there's always the bacjup plan. Head over to wal-mart, buy your own bags of candy, and settle down somewhere with some scary movies.

Driving : Chains of Freedom

It seems like the biggest goal in any teens life, the biggest leap of liberty, is the drivers license. We strive for it, put in countless hours of extra class-time, observation, and driving just to get it. It seems to represent freedom, the ability to go where you want, when you want, to listen the the music you like at whatever volume you wish (generally significantly louder than your parents like), and really, just be a licensed person. Theres something reassuring, knowing that you officially exist now, that you have a proof of ID handy on you at all times. But besides the physical license, starting to drive is not necessarily all it's cracked up to be. First off, unfortunately, they generally don't hand out cars at the DMV to go with your first license. So even though you legally can drive, you don't have the wheels to physically do it. Your parents have cars of course, but a parents carinvariably comes with strict limits. You need to ask every time you need it, let your parents know exactly where you're going and for how long, and your driving priveledges can always be threatened to make you raise your grades or do the chores. The next big goal then turns into getting a car of your own, which you assure yourself will provide total freedom. But once you do, whether from hard work and shrewd buying or just a large amount of luck, you find once again it comes with just as much responsibility and labor as freedom. Even though you have your own car now, it is highly unlikely that your parents will simply let you leave whenever you want and not ask any questions or set any curfews. And besides that, there's the gas. Even though our parents have been complaining abut it for years, it's still a shock how expensive that gas is. If you have managed to go through life before now without a job or income, you'll find that any extra cash you have is soon burned away in the engine of your car. You'll end up needing a job to keep the gas flowing, so when you do drive you're not going "wherever and whenever you want", you're going to work to pay for the gas that you need to drive to work again tomorrow. Or you can beg and plead with your parents for the money, but if you're dependant on them for your driving ability, you're just back where you started. Overall, getting a license and a car brings just as many responsibilities and limits as it does freedom and liberty. Of course, that shouldn't stop anybody from getting one anyways as soon as they possible can.