A look back at the importance of Monday, October 20, 2008.
“Good morning. Thanks for calling the Snow Phone. This is Halley O’Brien, your Snow Reporter, with your report for October 20, 2008. The hike park on Launch Pad is open…”
Six years ago, this Jersey girl moved to West Dover, Vermont with a modest collection of beanies, a laptop, a tiny camcorder, and an undeniable passion for snowboarding. October 20th was my first day.
I didn’t know then what I know now.
How early 4:30am actually is, day after day.
How much I would love coffee because of it.
How bad I was (and still am) at making coffee.
How snow guns sound and the way snowcats resemble stars at night.
How to ride powder.
Why people from New Jersey are referred to as “Jersey Joeys.” (To be honest, I still don’t get it, but it probably has to do with the former. Shut up, Massholes.)
How to shoot video on a broadcast-quality camcorder.
(I used my own. It was small, purple and so cute. I sold it at a garage sale 5 years ago and wish I hadn’t.)
How to edit using anything other than iMovie. (I later learned you can learn anything on YouTube. Thanks, FinalCutKing.)
How some of my most important friendships were formed in that rickety office, on a chair lift, or over a basket of tots at D-Bags. (Speaking of which, I didn’t know that D-Bags stood for the Dover Bar & Grill. In New Jersey, it’s an abbreviation for something (or someone) else. See ‘Jersey Joeys’.)
I certainly didn’t know how a standard definition, snow-covered YouTube presence would eventually become a high-def, nationally televised personality and production.
I guess what I’m trying to say is…
I didn’t know how much this experience would mean to me.
I do now. And it means the world. October 20th, 2008 has helped shape every day thereafter.
Thank you for watching my countless videos. For the fast laps. For the learning experience. For the growing experience. Thanks for the free drinks, the free beanies, the free advice and the endless laughter.
Every bit of it is priceless.
Thanks for reading, kids.