Harold’s Movie Review: Draft Day

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Editor’s Note:  I am extremely busy with monetizing the site, SEO, dinners with famous F-list celebrities, and dedicating a majority of my waking hours to producing the content that you desire.  I have decided to hire an additional writer to provide a new perspective to skiinginjeans.com.

Harold Somailitz, age 75, was discovered at McDonald’s as he was downing his 8th cup of coffee that morning.  He was busy looking up the closing prices of his stocks in the newspaper [for all you kids under 30, a newspaper was popular form used for communicating current events in the 20th century.  Although, they are still produced today, most of the time, they provide kindling for fireplaces or lining the bottom of birdcages]. 

Harold will be contributing to a new feature called “Harold’s Movie Reviews.”  We are paying him below minimum wage, so we do not anticipate him to add much value to this blog or to contribute anything that anyone would consider worthwhile.  As the saying goes in the Internet world, “Content is King.”  Let it rip Harold.

Harold’s Movie Review:  Draft Day

Draft Day is a good movie.  I remember when I got drafted into my fraternity.  Now days, kids call it “pledging”, but back then we called it “drafting” because it took work to join.  Kids today are a bunch of panty wastes.  Back in my day, you got drafted, because you were tough enough to get take a hundred licks with the draft paddle on your keister then sit down and watch the next guy take his paddling.  Today, kids are running home to mommy for a Band-Aid because they cut themselves with a butter knife when they were trying to dice a hot dog so they don’t choke.

Shortly after I was drafted, I started working on building some biceps to get the girls.  In 2014, you guys try to talk to girls to get in touch with her emotions.  Back when America still had guys working the line in Detroit’s auto factories, the only thing that mattered when getting the girl was being able to beat up her current boyfriend.  If you wanted a girl, you just took her.  Man, I took down some skirts in my day with my 26” biceps.  Yeah, the girls loved my pipes.

This is what I'm talking about
This is what I’m talking about

Speaking of Detroit, what’s with the whipper snappers today and their eco-friendly, green cars that get 75 miles per gallon?  What’s so hip about a car that you can fit in your pocket after you get done driving?  I’ll tell you what a real car was, a 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS.  No, not a Chevette, those cars sucked.  A Chevelle. 450 horses, a 0-60 time of 6 seconds, four speed transmission, and more curb appeal than James Dean when he was plowing Elizabeth Taylor.  Those cars would get any dame to look your way.

That’s all I got to say about Draft Day.  My score for Draft Day is 14 Catheters.

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Leverage: It’s for Everyone

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In the 1980’s, an era of the Cold War, the A-Team, “Greed is good” (leverage) and Hyper-Color, my crew…

SIDEBAR:  It was more like me and a buddy, not really a whole crew.  For this story, let us just say there were twenty of us who were trained as lethal killers alongside Johnny at the Cobra Kai.

… patrolled the neighborhood on our bikes (banana seat optional; tassels not allowed).  We came across a brand new Ferrari Testarossa getting gassed up at the Citgo.  I was nominated to approach the suburban Mr. T who had more Soul-Glo in his hair than Vanilla Ice.  Think Vanilla Ice in 1990 when there was that nanosecond where people thought he might actually be a real singer with a Lifetime Achieve Award in his future.  Not the 1990’s rip-off of Elvis attempting to dance his way on to M.C. Hammer’s turf.  Yes, Vanilla would later face bankruptcy like that kid from Small Wonder who claimed he was robbed by a stripper, but I digress.

I came at Mr. “If-I-Didn’t-Drive-A-Ferrari-I-Would-Be-Driving-A-1977-Trans-AM-With-T-Tops” with the question on behalf of every kid who attended Fieldcrest Junior High.  “Sir, did you pay cash for this car?”  The guy laughed at me, “Kid, I own a car dealership so it is basically free; I run it through my inventory.”

I now had the answer to life’s big question.  And this crazy guy with a car that averaged nine miles to the gallon had shown me the answer:  It wasn’t “work hard and you will succeed someday.”  The message I got from this guy was:  Leverage up and go big.

As I got older, my world expanded.  I read great literature and found that even Jenna Jameson was tricked by the teetering seesaw of leverage.  #1 on her “not-to-do list:  Thou shalt not drive a Porsche and then take me back to your studio apartment in Valencia” (Jameson:  How to Make Love Like a Porn Star, page 24).  Yeah, I just cited Jenna’s autobiography.

Do you want to be that guy who plays it safe with a 10 year-0% CD at Citibank or do you want to be the guy chasing on-again/off-again over-the-hill porn stars while dodging the water shut-off guy and that Boy Scout who sold you overpriced popcorn two years ago because you said “I’m good for it”?

Its time to leverage up to the life you can’t afford.

Debt as a tool, leverage
This is what it is all about

As I sign off, I would like to pay homage to some of my heroes who have leveraged themselves like no other:  Please pay this music in the background (start at 0:42) as you read off these names:

AIG, Ivan Krueger, The No-Money-Down Home Buyer (circa 2006), the person who makes one large wager on a single number at roulette, and anyone who has bought a lottery ticket.  Go forth and leverage.

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Just Got Dumped? Here’s How to Avoid Being a Loser

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You had the perfect relationship.  It was you and your soulmate against the world.  One day things changed.  He dumped you.  You were blindsided.  You attempted to reconcile, but you knew it was final the day you saw the sign “Welcome to Dumpsville.  Population:  You” taped to your car window.  Yes, you were officially canned.  Keep reading to find out how you can recover from your failure and come back bigger and stronger like Tiger Woods after he was caught with his hand in a Perkins waitress.  Apparently, Swedish supermodels just can’t serve up two eggs over easy like the pros.

This is your world
This is your world

As much as you would like to say to yourself that it wasn’t your fault you got dumped, look at that facts:  You lost at the game of love.  Final score:  Your Ex-1, You -0.  That’s cool.  You don’t see A-Rod crying in his steroids because he was booted out of baseball.  He is elbow deep in hookers living in a multi-million dollar condo in NY.  Feel bad for him?  Didn’t think so.

How to respond to being dumped:

1) Stop being a pathetic, emotional basketcase.  No one wants to hear you whine about how your life is over, how you will never do better than your ex, how you didn’t see the break up coming, or how you invested so much time in the relationship.  That is loser talk.  From this point, you are to tell people the following when discussing your ex.

  • “He is a bum.  I only dated him because I felt sorry for him because he still thinks Pearl Jam will return to mainstream one day.”  Make it clear to everyone that you ran the relationship from start to finish.
  • “I dumped her.”  You are never to admit you were fired out of your relationship.  Winners fire people.  Losers get busted for drag racing rented Lamborghinis in Miami because they know their career is falling apart faster than Deutsche Mark in the Weimar Republic.  Everything that ends, always ends badly, so you might as well tell people you ended it on your terms.
  • “Yeah, we dated for ‘X’ years, but I was seeing other people on the side.”  You are a wild mustang tearing up the free range of the Wild West.  No one can hold you down.  Even if the two of you spent your weekends cuddled around a space heater watching your VHS of The Notebook until you wore out the tape, you don’t need to share that with anyone now.  Tell people that you are the Sal Paradise of your generation and respect will rain upon you.

2)  Maybe you got dumped because you let yourself get fat.  I’m not going to put it gently and say something like “you let yourself go”, “you are ‘X’ years older than when you met her”, or “everyone gets flabby when they are in a long-term relationship”.  Here at Skiinginjeans.com, we may self-promote, but we never beat around the bush.  Your BMI has skyrocketed, you are constantly sweating like that old naked guy who lives in the sauna at your gym, and you are carrying around the equivalent of a small toddler in the form of fat around your waist and butt.  Yeah, you got fat.

Hit the gym, start running, and get lean.  It is simple stuff.  Once you start dating again, you will quickly realize that no one really cares about your personality until you are far enough into a relationship to get dumped again.

3)  Start dating again.  This step is strictly optional.  Since you will get dumped again which will require another six month supply of Zoloft, a year of therapy sessions and thousands of hours of self-loathing, you might as well just accept your previous relationship as your last shot at a meaningful, exclusive relationship.

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Samples in the Grocery Store? Yes, Please!

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Who doesn’t like spending a lazy Saturday afternoon in a grocery store casually checking out the fresh fruit, smelling bread still warm from the oven, and perusing the processed cheese aisle in search of the perfect combination of sweet yellow dye #5, various hydrogenated oils, and dairy by-products?

As you wander the store, maybe you make eye contact with a girl who you swear you saw on Tinder the other day, but going over and saying “Hi.  I’m Jimmy.  Can you buy me a drink?” would just be too much work.  You decided you to stalk her online when you get home.  Later, at home, you tell yourself how you should have just gone over and talked to her when you saw her in person.  The lesson here:  Why do something today when you can procrastinate indefinitely?

Even with the Tinder disaster, the day is going well until you hit the sample aisle.  It’s like Russia before the Wall came down.  Chaos is the norm here; mothers trampled by their own children, screams of hunger fill the cavern, and shopping carts strategically stacked providing roadblocks for advancing samplers.  This field of weekend warriors makes the annual “rush the superstore near you on Thanskgiving for a $25-TV after waiting three days in freezing temperatures hence effectively valuing your time at $2.76/hour” riot look like a line of children receiving their First Communion.  Amid the craziness, you find solace in knowing that the Greek goddess Eris still haunts the souls of man.

At least these guys have a chance of escaping alive.
At least these guys have a chance of escaping alive.

Before you freak out and forgo your claim on free food, read this simple guide to understanding those who inhabit the sample aisle so you can understand their motives, beat out their weaknesses, and satisfying the base level of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.

The Looker:

This person silently stalks the serving table attempting to play coy, but strikes quickly when either a straight shot at the samples present themselves or the food service employee turns away from the display to tend to other duties.

How to strike first:  Due to The Looker’s attempt to slow-play the samples, do not hesitate to jut in front of The Looker and make the first move at your prize.  Your ability to act without fear or hesitation will give you the upper hand.

The Over-Sampler (AKA:  The Meal Maker): 

The Over-Sampler is the reason the food service employees assembles their product behind a bullet-proof shield before laying it out for the masses.  The Over-Sampler deftly drives in towards their objective taking as many samples as they can carry without remorse to their fellow man who may go hungry until the next tray is brought out.

How to strike first:  The Over-Sampler is one of the more difficult creatures to combat and you should not attempt to take these people head-on unless you are armed with a stack of 2 for 1 unexpired coupons which can be carpet bombed in front of them or a personal body odor problem.

The Hounder:

An Over-Sampler protégé, these soldiers are far less aggressive than their mentors in terms of following their directive and claiming their booty.  They tend to linger closely near the food service employee and use their body or shopping cart to block out their competitors.

How to strike first:  Unlike the disciplined Over-Sampler, the Hounder is much more sympathetic to the aged of society as well as mothers bearing children.  He will look at his peers as a direct challenge and is prone to outbursts inclusive of grunting, extreme salivating, and possibly even a death stare.  Proceed with caution, but do not hesitate to confront directly.  Often times, the threat of a showdown is enough to make The Hounder back away from the baked, breaded spinach and head towards samples are easier to acquire.

As long as grocery stores hand out free food, it is your duty as a store patron to eat what you can get your hands on.  Nothing says “full-course dinner” like a handful of hot dog weenies and crustless PB and J sandwiches fresh out of the package washed down with an orange flavored water served in a Dixie cup.  Get out there and justify your trip to the grocery store by eating your way through it.

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Why I Don’t Want to Get Punched by Kayne West, Even for $250K

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It takes a special kind of guy to torment a B-level celebrity who once compared himself to Jesus Christ on the cover of Rolling Stone.  A couple of punches later, Kayne and the “victim” are national headlines.  Yes, Kayne West might spend eternity in the 6th Circle of Dante’s version of Hell (Heresy), however America’s newest plaintiff has gone through a major decision in choosing to extort $250k from the star.  I’m guessing he didn’t do an in-depth analysis of what he should do after getting the world’s most expensive shiner, so I did one for him.

First, a definition:  What is fame?

Fame is an alluring concept draws us all in.  For four straight years, you are taking tackles from guys three times your size in practice only to be spontaneously put in a real game in front of 80,000 people at Notre Dame Stadium.  The crowd, pumped up with an average BAC level of .18, chants your name with monotone enthusiasm,  “Rudy. Rudy. Rudy.”  This is it.  You have four years of concussions, bruised forearms and enough weight room time to make Arnold gag.  Now your only objective:  Don’t embarrass yourself too much.

With the ball snapped, the Georgia Tech lineman who should be covering you abandons the play so he can chase down that smoke show from chemistry class that he saw in the stands.  He knows no team has ever overcome a 21-point deficit with 15 seconds left in a game so why not go for a win elsewhere in the stadium.  The quarterback, now uncovered, is tackled by another lineman, but you get credit for the sack because the official score keeper has been doing jager bombs with the recently divorced 1945 Delta Gamma Kappa sorority house sweetheart.  After a series of chest bumps and ass pats on the sideline, you go back to be being an unknown 5’ 6” college senior, only to settle SEC charges for running a  ‘Pump and Dump’ stock scheme thirty-five years later.

The Upside of Kayne’s Uppercut:

Before we dig into the downside of a right hook from the guy who put Taylor Swift on the map, here is what $250,000 could get you:

1 ½ Bentleys

500 houses in Detroit

100,000 fold-up chairs


2,500,000 double stuff Oreos

If the Great Recession taught us anything, we learned that security of your financial assets is paramount and all wealth is fleeting.  Clearly, the correct choice for your $250k is the Oreos.  Bentleys depreciate, they had to release a new version of Robocop on Detroit this year, and life is too short to sit.  Oreos have an infinite shelf life and are part of the glorious diet fade that is sweeping our nation known as the “Sugar.”

Although it might be cool to tell your friends you were punched with a Kayne right, the cost of maintaining your image can be a physically and mentally draining.

Now the downside:


In order to keep up appearances, you are required to NOT wash the left side of your face.  Any type of soap, and possibly water, would deface with the purity and authenticity of the haymaker’s mark.  Inevitably, this lack of personal hygiene will eventually cross the equilibrium point between your friends refering to you as “cooler than Freddie Prinze, Jr” in She’s All That to your face resembling a Petri dish stacked with MRSA.  Remember, no one, not even your mom, likes you when you’re packing MRSA.


It is cool that a world famous celebrity punched you.  At this moment, you are as cool as him.  Time is not your friend when you are a celebrity- go ask Kato Kaelin if you have any doubts about this statement.

What happens in five years after the punch?  You will deal with the pain of being broke again.  What happens in ten years?  Maybe VH1 will run a two-minute excerpt on you in an episode of “Kayne West:  Where is he now?”  What happens in twenty years?  People will say “Who is Kayne West?” the same way people today say “Who is Leif Garrett?”

The Big Summary:

On the initial pass, most people would gladly take one on the kisser from superstar who is as big as Pee-Wee Herman was at his peak.  After further review, and weighing the positives/negatives, the choice is clear:  No one likes a cry baby who is paid for getting beat up.

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Leave the Scooters to the Kids

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Scooters became popular when Marty McFly tore one in half in Hill Valley in 1955 and turned it into a skateboard.  Soon after that day, a couple of bike mechanics at Dino’s Chain on Cherry Street attached a spare chainsaw engine to the scooter and the self-powered scooter was born.  The popularity of the scooter took off like Menudo after it picked up Ricky Martin in the 1980’s.  However, in a recent survey, nine out of ten inmates on death row would take a pack of Marlboro’s over a scooter.  Let’s take a moment to dissect the current evolutions of the scooter and try to answer the question:  What happened to the basic child scooter?


“Taste great.  Less Filling.”  That pretty much sums up these road nightmares.  If you want the worst of both worlds, horsepower and style, head down to small engine shop and pick up one of these glorified ride-on lawnmowers.  Sure, you get to park in the fuel-efficient spaces at Whole Foods, but you forgo any chance of landing a date ever again.  Here’s a little known fact:  When Motley Crue was shooting the music video for “Girls Girls Girls”, the production assistant nervously approached the band and explained “Nikki, Vince, Tommy, and Mick, I’m sorry the rental store was out of Vespas, do you think these loud, overbearing Harley’s will work or should we wait for the scooters?”

Motley Crue and Vespas
What could have been.

Scooters at Disney World

Who wants to walk the park when you can glide through it on a scooter?  There are so many scooters driving around the place people walking on their own two feet stick out like a Harvard Business grad selling gently used socks on the exit ramp of an expressway.  Standing in the middle of Main Street, you feel like you are in the final lap of the Indy 500 except the racecars all have severally restricted speed governors.

Train commuters

After dragging a collapsible version of their kid’s scooter onto a packed train, these people cruise to work down the same crowded streets as angry bus drivers, over-worked cabbies and tourists circling the block looking for available street parking that doesn’t exist.  Nothing says “I have abandonment issues” like riding on a toy to your job as a corporate attorney while wearing a suit, tie, and helicopter beanie.  We get it; you’re saving time and money by cutting through rush hour downtown traffic on your kid’s weekend toy, but save yourself your last bit of dignity and walk or take a cab.

Gopeds/Sedgways/Mopeds/Other Scooters

“Go Small and Stay Less Than Mediocre.”  These are like the marathon runner who spent the last six months training only to quit 3.1 miles into the race and say “I’m good.  I’ll just settle for the 5k”.  Five year olds never wake up and say “when I grow up I want to be the fourth string left tackle for Tampa Bay Storm arena football team”.  Why would you want to settle for the Ryan Leaf of scooter world?  Man up and get a motorcycle that can exceed 35 mph at full throttle.


Don’t succumb to the world of fly boy glasses, scarves blowing in the wind and the Mary Poppins world of the mini-motorcycle.  You’re better than that.  You need to believe in yourself and you too can avoid the trap of the scooters.

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How to Escape the Suburbs on a Friday Night

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Models and Bottles How to Escape the Suburbs on a Friday Night
Go Get Some.

He carefully covers himself in the tools of the night:  The Patek Phillippe knock-off watch, 7 jeans-scored at Plato’s Closet with only a minor Kool-Aid stain, and Calvin Klein underwear-simple head nod to the O.G., Marky Mark.  Grabbing the EZ curl bar, he knocks out at least 35 reps, but never over 58; crossing the sweat point yields another hour-long shower and primp session.  Finally the shirt:  a vintage 1998 Girbaud bought at a Kmart Blue Light Special.  He is now ready to leave the suburbs and take on the city this Friday night.

While wearing gloves, the shirt is carefully removed from the dry cleaner bag slowly put on to avoid any unnatural wrinkles in the fabric.  He turns up Tiesto in his room and practices his approach with a mannequin.  The Point.  The Wink.  The Double Wink.  The Point-Double Wink (this one is still in the experimental phase).  If only that mannequin were a real woman like in that movie Mannequin Two:  On the Move, he could work the club circuit strictly as a spectator and not a true player.

He grabs the keys to the Subaru Outback off the counter as his mom yells something inaudible at him.  He drives out of the sub-division only leaving a baby seat on the floor of the garage as any proof that he was there.

With track housing behind him, his transformation into “Stinger” is complete.  Now he is free.

Enter The Thunderdome (good-bye suburbs)

The crowd is starting to build at the door, but Stinger pushes through to the staff and slips the guy a twenty.

Once seated, Stinger leans back in his seat and lights up a clove cigarette.  Several patrons give him a look of disgust, but he waves them off with a twist of his hand.  A waitress walks over to him.  He cuts her off before she can talk to him.

“Bottle of Grey Goose.  Soda, cranberry and a large bowl of cherries,” Stinger says as he sharply looks away to avoid any follow up questions.  The server rolls her eyes in agony as she backs away from the table.

The waitress returns with a middle age man.  He calmly speaks as Stinger looks on, “We do not offer bottle service.  This is Chili’s.  However, we have a fine selection of island drinks.  Would you like to start with an Awesome Blossom to go with a Presidente Margarita?”

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The Real Wedding Gift Giving Guide

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Your wedding gift guide
It is the size of package that really matters

“Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry
In five days from now he’s gonna marry
He’s hopin’ you can make it there if you can
‘Cause in the ceremony you’ll be the best man”

It is Go-Time. Before you decide you’re going to go all Wedding Crashers on the event. Get to the real question:

How much should you spend on a wedding gift?

The Emily Post types will say, “Cover the cost of your plate as well as your guest’s plate when giving a wedding gift.” This is completely asinine.

If you are invited to wedding at the Ritz-Carlton in New York complete with dancing girls, twenty piece band and elephants parading the wedding party in, you are not expected to pay for your meal in the form of a wedding gift. “But they spent all this money on me, I need to reciprocate,” you say. When you are at a wedding where a majority of people at the rehearsal dinner are wearing plaid pants that is the sign that you are way out of your element. You are not on the Forbes 400 list and clearly the newlyweds don’t need the money to start their lives together. If this couple was rich and generous, they should be handing out thousand dollar gift cards to Aldi as late night favors, because Aldi is something us little people can relate to.

When your nephew gets married at your brother’s pig farm and the appropriate dress is “anything but camouflage or hunter orange”, it is time to max out the credit card and buy this couple as much of the stuff off their registry as you can afford. This bride’s biggest day of her life consists of a keg in the backyard next to the septic tank entrance. After you go back to running water and an indoor stove, this girl will still be slugging it out at the trailer park with Brittany Spears’ childhood friends. Yes, your child’s college fund may take a temporary hit, but do the poor couple a solid and write a check with multiple zero’s.

When do you give the wedding gift?

On or before the big day? Nope.  Traditional etiquette says that if the marriage doesn’t last a year the gift needs to be returned.  Are you really going trust a couple who is going to marriage counseling, working with a divorce attorney, and fighting over who gets the Betty Crocker Cookbook to mail you back the toaster you bought them nine months ago? Let’s get real; that toaster is gone forever.

Friendships should mend in time, but that crystal serving bowl you paid for will always look better in your china cabinet than in your best friend’s ex’s house being used as an ashtray. As any self-help guru will tell you, “Take control of your life.” As your guide in this section of life, I say, “Take control of your toaster.”

Instead of giving the wedding gift on or before their big day, make the couple prove to you that their marriage is stable before you send them the gift. On the 364th day of their marriage, go ahead and mail that gift. It will save everybody a lot of unnecessary stress of mailing back gifts, hurt feelings, and most importantly, your bank account.

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Skiing in Jeans

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Skiing In Jeans
You want this look, right?

When Olaf Norrison strapped on the first pair of fig trees in 4000 B.C., no one noticed.  In fact, he should have been in his basement because his parents had grounded him for taunting the Norwegians, but he crawled out through the window well, and made his escape skiing down the mountain while yelling, “I want my two dollars!” (if you are outside of the ages of 35-43, you will not get this reference).

“Do these pants look my butt look big?” Levi Strauss uttered after throwing on the only pair of boot cut jeans in existence in 1873.  Aside from several UCLA students wandering California on spring break looking for gold while doing keg stands and twerking, the biggest fashion breakthrough since the loincloth went unnoticed until the latter part of the 20th century.

Putting it together

In 1982, Henry McDougall, age 27, made a multi-faceted power move unseen until Napoleon attempted to eat the “Ziggy Pig” in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure by tossing on a pair of straight-cut, stone washed jeans and taking on the Bunny Heaven run at Wisconsin’s Wilmot Mountain (elevation: 325 feet).  McDougall opened up skiing to a world of people who had no right to be skiing.

Coated in a material that was constricting and prone to retaining water, the small world of the gentle slopes of southern Wisconsin were now owned by the newcomers flush with denim.  The highly specialized shops that lined the mountain selling custom-built skis bundled with an air of arrogance were replaced by rental ski stores that cycled through the masses like a lost chapter in Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle.  In a sport where dressing the part overtook one’s own skill level, the mountain view turned from a white mound of snow speckled in uniquely dressed individuals to a sea of blue so uniform in its front that it was now on par the world’s 37th most powerful army.

The annual pass skier headed to difficult terrain out West so he could remain with his own kind.  It was a land where only the finest breathable, wind-proof, and waterproof nylon was accepted.  It was unmolested by those who took to the hills using towropes armed with one-day passes only to snow plow their way from hilltops to their 1986 Dodge Caravans parked in the free lot.  And the skiing world was in harmony again.

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