As you may know I had the pleasure of being flown up by Salomon to the Portland premiere of Warren Miller's Impact. So know let me tell you what it's like to be a rockstar and also let me say, WHO WANTS TO FUCKING TOUCH ME!?!?
I hopped on the PDX light rail and got off downtown at Pioneer square. I gazed around the beautiful city of Portland, wandering around trying to find the Hotel Lucia. When I finally arrived I was fucking blown away. I'm very use to Motel 6 in Mammoth, Tres Puntas in Chile, and when I go big it's usually a Holiday Inn. The Hotel Lucia was fucking off the hook, and best of all, WM was paying for it.
First night I wandered around by myself found a pub and watched the Sox flatten the Yanks.
The next morning I met up with Kevin Quinn, Jessica Sobolowski and Chris Anthony for coffee and was quickly whisked away to the Salomon/Adidas headquarter for a private screening of a WM compilation. From there I dined with the CEO of Salomon and talked shop with the head of hardgoods, Mike Aicher. pssst, 2006 huge, fat, stiff pocket rockets are a go
After many handshakes, introductions, and chatting we headed back to the Hotel for a quick shower. As Chris Anthony headed off to set up the first show, Jessica, Quinn and myself dined and a swanky thai food place, once again on WM's bill. Did I mention how fucking cool that is.
I first started buzzing when i saw about 200 people outside the show, I was quickly handed a VIP pass and whisked in front of everyone. Holy Shit, there was an ass load of people at the show. We then went up stairs where I met Charlotte Moats, Ben Dolenc and some hot host of Spike TV. (More on her later)
As the loud speaker cackled, "show in 3 minutes" we were told to go back stage very quickly. I saw the enormity of how many people showed as I quickly darted backstage. Chris Anthony then informed us that he was going to bring us on stage. "Fuck" I thought, "I've never been in front of that many people in my life" My nerves jumbled, stomach tightened and then he called me up on stage. Now standing on stage has got to be one of the wierdest feelings in the world. A 1000 people looking at you and you have no fricking idea what to look at, do or say. Definitely weird.
The show started, Quinn and I sat in the back and watched the show. Listening to the crowds reactions (they definitely like falls) and checking out the flick.
Then the one of the coolest things ever happened. When Warren Miller said "Cody Townsend" I got chills down my spine. Just that unforgettable, distinguished voice saying my name was something I've dreamed about since I was 3 years old. It was crazy. A personal moment of amazement.
As far as Hugo's, Chris' and my segment went. We got stuck with some cheese cause of the lack of skiing on our trip, the crowd reacted well to the couple of straightlines I did and it was overall I kind of soulfull piece.
Then came the trippiest moment of the trip. Me, Jess, Quinn, Ben, and Charlotte lined up at a table, Sharpies in hand and posters in front of us. I kept looking down the table, trying to watch the other more experienced athletes and figure out what the hell was going on. But in seconds, right at the call of intermission, people mobbed the table clammering for autographs and posters. I didn't know if we're supposed to write anything, write the people's names or just sign our names. I slowed my first customer with chit chat and peered over at Sobolowski as she asked the kids name, wrote it down, wrote a quick message and then signed. Alright, so that's what I'm supposed to do. "But what the fuck do I write in between my name and their name." I thought. I clammored through a couple rough ones.
Timmy
Keep those tips straight
Cody Townsend
Timmy, "but I snowboard" Shit. Another. Quick.
The first about 10 posters went that way. I quickly remembered a Scot Schmidt poster I have the says Happy Landing Hmmm... that sounded good, thanks Scot. I soon fell into a groove and found a couple other quick quips to write.
We'd get the weirdest fucking questions too. Some guy asked me, "So do you guys like make millions and just go ski around the world." Ummmm, no I work as a waiter, sucking up to rich people for tips. "So where you going like a 100 mph when you went straight?" "How didn't you die doing that" It was funny, but cool at the same time. These people who only see one ski movie, once a year, think you are gods. It's crazy.
The autographs were cool, the attention was cool, but the funnest part is going out with all the other athelets and WM crew after the shows. We'd get hammered on WM's bill, talk skiing and have a fucking great time. And get severly hit on by hosts of Spike TV, get her phone number and...I could get used to this pro-skier thingy.
Anyways, the other show went equally as well. I went to a cool cocktail party with all the big wigs at Salomon, WM and a bunch of other sponsors before one of the shows, then after the show got very very wasted. Quinner was not nice, when he decided to buy everyone multiple cups...not shots...of Jaeger.
And on the final night Hannah Hardaway showed up and the head of PR at Solly took me, Hannah, Simon Dumont and Peter Olenick (in town for a rail jam) to a swanky bistro. Dumont, Olenick then went of the UofO for some partying while Hannah, some girls from Solly, the head of PR and myself, shot some pool finished up by some late night clubbing. I finally crashed at 4 am, woke up at 7 am and hopped a plane back to the real world. I'm back in Santa Cruz. I just finished class and am getting ready to head back to waiting tables tonight. I'll be wearing a sneaky grin though tonight, cause little do they know, this weekend I was a fucking rockstar.
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