I owned that mountain, winter of '67, 16 y.o.

Lest anyone doubt I can go downhill fast:

Notice 2nd forerunner

I made room for Jean-Claude Killy in March

On a Winter's Day

(Game changer!) On a mid-winter's day you may have seen two men cruising the timber up back, award winners both: Joe (Buster) Boutin, NH logger of the year, and Growty Farma, third place, Carlisle Trophy. (Maple syrup, late eighties) Now comes Timber Tax Certificate:

Fossil Fuel Free Farming temporarily suspended! brace yourself for high impact large carbon footprint. 1. Pre-empting fire event. 2. "Letting daylight into the swamp". 3. Raising water table. 4. Whole tree chipping to supply local power generation. Sugaring (Maple) is giving quarter to hospitality in the greater scheme, here, never-the-less, the lions share of the $reciept$ will go into building up sugaring.

Parallel Lives

I hardly know the guy. We did travel together, one time, to a summer soccer game down Tilton (cranium processing plant #4-93-?); happened to be where the Old Man (Jack Kenney) was holed up (Old Soldiers Home) with acute Alzheimers, the same old man that give us the "advanced physique", (near bionic athletic prowess). O', I'm talking about my nephew Bode Miller. And O, ya, I did take him between the legs (as is family tradition) and imbue the "carve of the turn". But our connection has been more of a disconnection, as a result of the estranged/deranged family dynamic. (I could still live out my own truncated ski racing career "vicariously" through this nephew, this scrawny kid growed up! as selfish as it sounds)
 So I start the list: 1. We both had "Near Death Experience" (Mount Washington/Tuckerman's Ravine)
2. Ripped the heel plates out of 220 centimeter downhill skis in a bad crash. 3. Other-worldly second runs in slalom (see: Baxter Slalom and Salt Lake Olympic Slalom) 4. Atrocious table manners. 5. coming soon-

For the record: I ski raced, "wasted"

I ski raced "wasted", too, just like my nephew Bode Miller! But instead of shit-faced, I was stoned. I toked up (medical marijuana) before each run (2 runs) of the U.S. Eastern Giant Slalom Championships, hiding in the wind blown, stunted, spruce trees, near the start, on Middle Cannon By-pass, same start as the first World Cup G.S. (1997) of North America, a perfectly challenging G.S. run, whether down Avalanche (trail) or Polly's (Hannah) Folly (Trail). Excellent vertical drop! This race dropped down Polly's. Saturday, the day before the late winter big one was an ersatz one run job. I was pumpin' down that Mountain with my signature rhythm, The Kenney Technique, going right at every gate, to hell with the consequences, suddenly, in the "crux" of the race course, swing gates all! (bless that course setter, that course setter being none other than Gordi Eaton, off the Olympic team; it was like I had two tickets for the tram (airial tramway to the top of the mountain, no inspection runs) in the crux of the race course, a pile of snow! gratis the side slippers/course preparers, "yard sale"!, I was all over the place. I went home with my tail twixt me legs after that race. The next day I crawled out of me hole bright and early, like a true Alpinist. Let's just say, I had no impediments in gaining a comfortable three second margin. (early seventies, Viet Nam War raging) Lottery #267, impending doom: glory days of The Lugubrious, prison ahead! (5 weekends in County ain't no prison) What I learned there, was that the food was the same as boarding school, really sucked! Anyway, the take-away from that race was cannabis is no performance enhancer, nor a performance detractor. It was just easy to attain that delicate balance between intensity and relaxation, aggression and sensitivity, sinking deep into each turn and exploding out with acceleration. Good medicine!

To lighten things up (on this full moon)

We have, enter, Growty Farma! (the sub-subsistence farmer)
"A life of intense stress, by the seat of the pants"
aside: Oh No! not this guy; he is a paranoid psychosomatic sufferin sclerotic scoliosis! A lightning rod for sickness and disease!
What cha do'in Growty? Chopping wood?
I never talk, I am a man of action!
Some say you are the Fallen  Alpinist, is that correct?
Soul proprietor:
1. Growty Farma Milkin' Parlor
2. Romance Language Beauty Parlor
3. Ol' Tima's Knittin Parlor
4. Grim Reaper Funeral Parlor
Did you know Growty Farma got a PHD in Subterranean Ergonomics for harvesting potatoes by hand (self awarded).
aside: We all know Growty Farma's middle name is John Henry, but this is ridiculous.

A Defining Moment, The Wave!

Transitioning (beef to dairy); Downsizing (3 head stock); Restructuring (going to fossil fuel free)
Taking possession!? 120 acres good "occupy" land.

Introduction

Let me introduce Larisa Alexandrovna, Kyrgyzhain Princess, a.k.a. Snow Leopard (Leopardiva),
The Indomitable;
Heading up (top dog) "Naturally Together Sisters",  Big Brother Watches, Big Sister Cares! Twenty-first Century Female Advancement

Thank You

Thank-you D. Trump for exactly defining my point in space - J. William Kenney,  the "Antipode"  (Lugubrious)

I trashed my "advanced physique"!

To my own great detriment! The irony is I could have been the best, the fastest. I inherited from my father, Jack Kenney, an animal/chimpanzee like physique, the advanced physique. He could reach around the back of his head and drink a glass of water! We had extra length of bone with hyper accurate connecting tissue. But no, I had to go get deformed and stunted, {by fuzz-ball (tennis), scoliosis.} By the age of fifteen I was done, my life might as well have been over. (I had a younger brother who went through the same shit!) What happened? you may ask? Lets just say I got a little too exuberant around ten years old. Big service game mimicking Yoshi  A.'s "American Twist" and Bruce S.'s "cannonball". I climbed up the rankings (twelve and under), hit the (concrete) ceiling @ 9th in New England behind the likes of Bucky Adams, Chris Burr, Paul Gerkin, and then faded fast in the fourteens, never to be seen again. But no, wait, there was a time around then, (10-15), an event, "Southern Maine State Championships". I picked up some "hardware". I actually "cleaned up". Somehow, I got in the zone. My cross-court forehand was deadly, I couldn't miss the line. I guess the stars and planets must have been just right. The small glory faded fast, but not so with skiing. I hung on for a good and righteous ride another six/eight years carvin' the turns on the steep trails and slopes of the Gnarly Mountains, before I turned myself in, to the Chiropractors, and exiled to the forest. Flash forward fifty years (I am alive, still; I be here/we be here); I finally file for disability: spinal cord injury (scoliosis, tennis induced). Evidence?: third pair pelvic stabilizers (leather inserts for boots or shoes, last about ten years each) still kickin' around. One leg shorter than the other. No, one leg longer than the other. (Everybody knows I got a few loose marbles rattlin' around up there). As determined by the great Dr. D. Haspell: 7 millimeters. Those little 7 millimeters; don't get me going! Or better yet, go to my whine list:
page 1 of 2:

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Mercury gone retro-

Chill with a little smoke

Left Wing Propaganda

I gonna get in yo face with my left wing propaganda, For example: second-hand marijuana smoke cures cancer! Warning! I dabble in a little socialism, even communism (Scott Nearing kind. I don't care how many hundreds of thousands {if not millions} of wheel barrow loads he hauled, I work harder!) Anarchy? It's better than chaos!

Good Potato Growing Weather!

Traded in my neck-tie for a bandana a long time ago. Exiled to the forest under the "Ancient (gnarly) Mountain". The hardest working man in America (builder of pyramids). I work nights and weekends, and the rest of the time I work. MBF's, BTU's, TSI. I been doing TSI (timber stand improvement) for fifty years, building up good carbon credits. The forest - carbon sink, the favored sugar maple trees are the most effective filter nodules sucking excess carbon  out of our increasingly polluted atmosphere. The unsung heroes!

William the Conqueror, Jr. Lineage

Mother Nature is Really Cool

Mother Nature Strikes Back! Katrina: revenge for the desecration/degradation/debilitating Oil slick/cesspool of the Gulf of Mexico, Irene and Sandy: one/two punch@ Wall Street Crooks*, and now more revenge: Wildfires/Major Arson up around the Hell-like Alberta Tar Sands! That reminds me: fire off an email to the Pope. Comparing notes, oil/petroleum, the blood of the Devil, is used to stoke the fires of Hell. Now, gas has got to be the Devils fart, flatulence, if you like. Put 'm together you got the death gurgle of the human race.

*Wall Street Crooks, but in the end, hurricanes not much more effective than the Occupy Movement in crushing the money grubbers.

Coming Soon! "Notes From The Last Occupier"

Occupy Wall Street, Yes! Occupy Tamarack Camps, Inc. Yes! Same Bullsh-t greed, lies and deceit. Details are in the "Notes".

Author of:

The Lugubrious, the abstruse, a morbid soul, Author of: "The Long Road to Perfidy, and Back"; "Mountains, Snow and Gravitas"; "The Boulder, The Mountain"; "Swords of Winter"; "Warning: This is the Story of Miserable Failure"; "Good Blood, The Assassination of Resident Kenney" (Liko); "The Unconventional Truth" and sequel: "The God Awful Truth", "A Grave Undertaking by A Grave Undertaker", "The Great Estate" or "Tamarack Saga", and others. (To be penned soon)
And don't forget, says a little voice: "The little tree That Saved The World"
And the latest: The title says it all (maybe not even write the book, save some time): "The Ersatz Elite Athlete", cuttin' corners, always lookin' for short cuts, goin' right at the gates, and still, winnin' the endless race. e

Marijuana cannot make the past disappear, but it can do everything else

A Real Panacea! Welcome to my blog, I am the Lugubrious, the abstruse, shrouded in the mists of time. I am Head Het-Man of the Cast-Iron Pot-Heads who work with the Food Chain Gang in support of the Radical Revolutionary Rebel Resistance, unarmed, civilly disobedient, most of the time.
My Captain Paul Reed - with his mighty act of resistance April 10 posthumorously invited to be an honorary member of Citizens Un-Tied.