taking the time to write a quick wednesday piece today as there are things to be discussed both in my small world and in the larger one we all spin around:
the strike is over! picketing suspended! sam’s on his way home from an all-unit meeting this morning and i’m eager for the update. voting on the new contract will close this evening, at which point we’ll be in the salt lake airport awaiting a flight to the east. i’m thrilled for patrollers and unions across the country–i don’t know much but i’m imagining this as a pretty significant victory across the board, not just in terms of the ski industry. i’m also selfishly excited for s to fall into a normal routine. it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster with the strike and the uncertainty surrounding it, and i think it’ll feel amazing to regain normal operations.
once we got word of the tentative contract last night, i ditched the idea of deep cleaning the house and decided to head back to canyons for the first time in three weeks. i’m a completely different skier than i was at the beginning of december. on monday night we headed to powder mountain for $20 night skiing and it was the first time in a while i’d confronted fear on skis, atop this steeper pitch i’d never ridden. sam assured me i was more than capable, but i still had a pit in my stomach. i made it down just fine, with more ease than i’d expected, and felt good about my turns on the way. the second time i rode it, fog had completely enveloped the mountain and i could see more of my own reflection in my goggles than i could the slope. there was no way to know where on the hill i was or how steep the grade was at any point. again, i made it down easier than i’d allowed myself to imagine, and my courage got a little stronger. the psychological benefits of Doing Things That Scare Us are not lost on me!
my home state is once again on fire. the images and stories are horrific. it is nearly impossible to imagine the stretch of pch between malibu and palisades ever recovering. the rate at which the santa anas spread the fire is unimaginable. homes that were expected to fall into the sea within the next decade are now obsolete, swallowed by fire instead of water. the stakes of our changing climate are constantly being raised.
the fires are already being politicized, less than 24h after they ravaged entire communities of southern california. donald trump put out an incendiary statement toward gavin newsom, solely blaming him for the drought conditions that have plagued the state for as long as i can remember. imagine watching cities burn and seeking to exploit the loss toward your own political stature. imagine having a rational conversation with a man who believes that our state governor has the power to ‘allow beautiful, clean, fresh water to FLOW INTO CALIFORNIA!’ imagine having to ask that same man for federal aid in the face of natural disaster.
the right wing is already rife with conspiracies, stopping at nothing to weaponize the fires against the left. folks who’ve never lived in california will cite rainfall totals from months prior and allege that the drought is a hoax peddled by climate activists, that climate change in entirety is a scam. they’ll rant about insurance companies canceling policies and denying coverage in high risk areas and use this to perpetuate the idea that the fires were set intentionally by some upper echelon of left wing government. they’ll ignore the fact that the war on home insurance across the state has been intensifying for the last ten years. they’ll do anything to assert some semblance of control over the situation. they’ll do anything except acknowledge the horrifying reality that the effects of fires driven by climate change are uncontrollable. fires exacerbated by high wind events will continue to evade human intervention and continue to catch towns and cities off guard.
the far left is guilty of speculation, too. there’s nothing like a climate disaster to remind one how divided our country currently is. it’s all we can do to hope that empathy prevails, especially for people who are boots on ground.
since high school, i’ve watched fires burn back home from a distance. it’s a strange mixup of feelings: of sadness and helplessness and loss, and of relief to be anywhere else, and of concern for the day one inevitably burns too close to my home. i have always found it hard to look away from fire coverage. especially as fires increase in volatility, it feels as though you could miss crucial information at any time. it always takes someone else to remind me that i’m not benefitting from a constant stream of tragedy, regardless of how informed it makes me feel. my challenge this weekend is to limit my intake, especially that of strangers commenting on the internet. it’s a privilege to tune things out, this i know.
a real hard and fast start to the new year this time around. hold on to your hats!
xo, r
loose change 
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