Squaw Valley wants everyone to know there was skiing over the long 4th of July weekend. And that’s fine. Marketing. But something about the way the pictures have rolled up on the social medias feels, I dunno, contrived, beatific, ham-fisted, desperate.
…Or worse, like propaganda.
I’m not saying it is propaganda any more than #CreepyWorkGuy says it’s a “date” when he badgers you for weeks to join him and a bunch of other coworkers for drinks on Thursday and finally when you agree to meet up, he’s the only one there. It just looks like you’re on a date, feels like you’re on a date and—maybe the worst part of it—everyone in the place thinks you’re on a date.
You can insist it was something else, but face it, you got suckered.
The pictures themselves of the Squaw Valley social media marketing department sweethearts trying their best to look like Ricky Bobby’s wet dream are somewhat offensive once one realizes the lift lines were ridiculous (scroll down), the beers were flat and the snow was the consistency of Richard Dreyfuss’ potato mountain sculpture in Close Encounters.
But, I get it, lifts are turning in July and those spray tans, cargo shorts and ironic half-tees ain’t gonna selfie themselves to dozens of likes. For Squaw, the tactic worked as all the local networks, the Sac Bee, Washington Post, CBS and even the Durango Herald gave the crumbling resort the free love they desired.
But dressing like you’re waiting in line overnight to see the premiere of Rocky IV to help promote a megalo-corporate-owned resort that is hell bent on stripping down services, spiking ROI and plunking a mountain base water slide/miniature golf thingy like the one you pass in the slow crawl past Roseville, seems, well, forced at best, diabolical at worst.
…And that’s not even taking into consideration the irony of all the rapid moves toward an authoritarian regime that’s going on on a macro level in this country. You wouldn’t know it from Squaw’s pictures, but there were 89 additional individual things done from the highest office of the land to get us that much closer to goose stepping to the beer line—last week.
So, for now, enjoy that there’s still snow in the Sierra any way you can. And make sure, those freedoms you enjoy—are your own.
What Squaw wants you to see:
Photos: Ridiculous jingoistic d-bag/white guy dreds shots: Squaw Valley/Alpine Meadows. Ridiculously long line, Matt Pritchard.