Stupidity Lives On

Ah, the early days of March 2006. The internet feels more like the wild west and less like a valid tool. Let’s dive into the chaos and charm of these times, shall we?

First off, the saga of my website’s disappearance into the digital abyss was as dramatic as a soap opera’s plot twist. Imagine this: One day, you’re the proud owner of a bustling online community, and the next, you’re scouting for a new web host because your site decided to play hide and seek without your permission. I landed a deal at $5 a month—practically a steal, considering my site’s now quieter than a secret whispered in a library. But hey, the call of the wild has always been louder to me than the ping of an online notification.

Speaking of the wild, let’s talk about my recent skiing adventure at Lolo Pass. Picture this: Me, gracefully executing tele-turns on the slopes, feeling like I’ve finally cracked the code to skiing nirvana. It was a moment of pure bliss, punctuated by my disbelief as I retraced my tracks. It’s like discovering you can actually cook a gourmet meal after years of kitchen disasters. Just in time for a spring break adventure in Montana—Paul, get ready for some epic slopes!

And then, NPR threw a curveball my way with a story that’s too absurd to make up: a lawsuit against the Forest Service over a grizzly encounter. My advice to newcomers in Montana? Embrace the wild or pack your bags. The rumored defense involving marital betrayal is the cherry on top of this surreal legal drama.

Now, onto the bittersweet tale of Lolo Pass Lodge’s website, which has been sputtering and coughing like an old car that’s seen better days. Wrestling with my CMS, e107, feels like I’m trying to herd cats—utterly futile. And as much as I dread the thought, maybe it’s time to consider if the Web Lodge has run its course. Is there a spark left to rekindle, or should we let it go gently into that good night?

Before I decide to metaphorically “burn down the lodge,” I’m calling on you, my digital family, for a chat. Let’s gather in our online powwow and weigh the fate of our beloved digital hangout. Who knows? Maybe we’ll decide to rebuild from the ashes or simply cherish the memories and move on.

And just a heads up for those trying to reach me—my spam filter has turned into a digital bouncer, turning away emails left and right. If you’re trying to get in touch, make sure to respond to the confirmation request so you can bypass my overzealous email guardian.

So, here we stand at a crossroads, deciding the fate of our virtual lodge. Will it rise like a phoenix or become a cherished memory? Let’s chat and find out.

P.S. Forgive the typos—my fingers are rebellious spirits that refuse to be tamed by conventional spelling and grammar.