Droopy-Drawered Jibber

Finally, one of the greatest mysteries of our time has been solved. That’s right, the mystery of the “Droopy-drawered Jibbers”.  You may not know what a Droopy-drawered Jibber is, but you’ve all seen them multiple times. They are those guys who walk around with their pants half way down to their ankles. 
The dirty little secret I’ve found out, is that it’s not their fault ! Yup, they can’t help it at all. “How do you know that?” you might be asking right now. Here’s how I found out, recently:
My third son needed a belt. He had lost his, and was playing, working, and walking around holding his pants up by his hand. He sometimes “waddled” to keep his pants up, just like the Droopy-drawered Jibbers that are 15 and 20 years older than him. My son is 5 years old.
We drove the 40 miles to town, and were looking for  a belt. First off, no, I’m not going to buy him a belt at Walmart. They fall apart, are made in China, and aren’t even leather. On top of that, Walmart thinks I want my son to wear a belt with skulls on it. Nice social statement. We went to a place that is high class, and carries clothes built to last. A place that Americans can trust and place their money into. A place of refuge from the world of cheap and superficial-JC Penny.
At J.C. Penny, we found out that they don’t carry boys belts. Neither did K Mart. Neither did Radio Shack. It became apparent that society doesn’t want boys to wear belts. It starts when they are 5 years old, and by teenage years, the boys are used to not wearing belts. So they waddle around like ducks with their legs apart, trying desperately to keep their pants above half mast.
Droopy-drawered Jibbers are most commonly seen at ski areas, like Snowmass, where I teach skiing.  You will find them mostly in the Terrain Park, the man-made area with 40 ft. jumps, and a huge halfpipe. It’s not unusual to find old couples skiing past one of the big kickers. As a 13 year old boy goes sailing over their heads doing a “roast beef”, you can often hear the husband saying, “Look, Martha! There goes a Droopy-drawered Jibber in his natural habitat!”
It’s no wonder the military isn’t recruiting as many kids. They wouldn’t be able to march. Can you imagine the U.S. Army waddling into a town to secure it?  The first thing the locals would do is show them where the public restrooms are in the park.
The direction society is going is a little bit scary . If I take my son to JC Penny and they don’t sell boys underwear, I think we’re all in trouble.



A Dynamite Ski Lesson

We had just skied down one of the most difficult chutes in the Aspen area and were taking a break. Milan was taking photos of the descent route, and everyone was pumped. We were still standing on a “double black diamond run”, but this spot was not the steepest.

As a ski instructor, you get to see the most beautiful scenery, tackle the most difficult challenges, and meet the most interesting people. Saxon and Milan were two of those people. They were two more guys in a litany of crazy Aussies- Australians who have been in my ski classes. Saxon liked digging snow caves (he skied with a shovel and survival gear) and Milan liked dropping off of rocks.

The short rest break was over, and it was time to ski. “Watch out over there.” I said. “That big black crater is a ‘bomb’ hole.” A bomb hole is what is left when the Ski Patrol throws dynamite to try and start an avalanche. In this case, the snow was already stable enough (even though we were standing in 12 inches of powder) to not slide.

“I’m going to ski through it,” Saxon said.

“OK,” I replied, “But don’t fall into it, you’ll get chemical tangents all over you.”

“What do you mean?” Saxon asked.

“The residue from the dynamite will stick to your ski clothes. If you wear that outfit when you fly home, and there are ‘bomb sniffing’ machines at the airport, you’ll set them off!”

Next thing I know, Saxon is rolling in the bomb crater, laughing, and picking up blackened snow and rubbing it all over his body. So much for the avoidance idea.

My ski school clients have the wackiest lessons you’ve ever seen. One time I had two teen brothers from the east coast. We duct-taped a smoke bomb onto a ski pole and skied a crazy zig zag through a crowded trail near the bottom of the mountain. We’ve dug snow caves, roasted marshmallows, launched hot dogs on bottle rockets, somersaulted off of cornices, skied through chest-deep powder, dropped off of frozen waterfalls, over water ponds, and occasionally learned something. Just kidding. You will always learn something in my class.

I love teaching skiing to people who’ve never even seen snow before. I do it a lot. To paraphrase the once famous mountain guide, Gaston Rebufet: “The joy I found when first ascending the peaks is now renewed every time I guide someone into the mountains and I see the joy and wonder on their faces.”

You can now book me for private ski lessons online. The process is really easy. Check out my ski homepage. Come to Aspen and ski with me. It’ll be your best trip ever. Trust me, I’m your guide.

Cheers,

Jerry “Mad Max” Begly