Snowboard parks are my second home.

Without the connection of Massanutten Ski Resort general manager, Steve Showalter, I wouldn't have called snowboard parks my second home. In the first six years of my life, I was raised on a farm with a piece of straw sticking out of my mouth. Ah, plenty of old fashioned memories. Anyway, Steve was my neighbor, just a five minute walk to his house. His ex-wife and my mom became best friends. Oh, I mean BFF. Eventually, my family moved to a mountain at near 3000 feet above sea level where I could see from the farm. It's named Massanutten.

My hometown, Massanutten.

Seven years forward, Steve gave me a job in the rental shop where I handed out ski poles and didn't have to communicate with customers much. However, these ignorant people wanted certain colors of the ski pole handles. I tried to show them that different colors came with different sizes.   Unfortunately, a lot of them went for appearance rather than function.

45 minutes from my hometown, Wintergreen.

Three years forward, Steve and I had a discussion about me working in the snowboard park since he noticed that I had developed a passion in snowboarding. I got the golden chance to work and shred in the park every day, and eventually got sponsored by Hooger (Booger) which later changed its name to Scott USA. I don't know why they brought up the silly names, even for a brand. Anyway, back to the subject, I've shaped takeoffs and pipes with rakes at Mountain High, Mt. Hood, and June Mountain throughout my early 20s.

Wintergreen.

At age 26, my ex-girlfriend and mom suggested that I should get a salary with some amazing benefits. That's how the American cutlure goes. During the offseason, I applied for a graphics design position at a local newspaper company, and a week later I got a call for an interveiw. All suited up with a tie, but I didn't feel right when I walked into the newspaper building. The interviewer led me to the basement that had full of office cubicles and no windows. He liked my portfolio, and the interveiw went well. The very last question he asked me was "Do you see yourself working here?" I didn't even expect him to ask me that question. Did he see something in me? I took a moment and looked around, then gave him a handshake and said "No. Thank you for your time". As soon as I got out of the building, I just ripped my tie off.  F*** the zombie American cutlure.  

To these days, you can find me in snowboard parks, not in office cubicles. I know I am going to die happy.

All of the photos created by ITMexposures.com