A down-and-dirty guide to the recession-friendly pseudo-sport that’s sweeping 1-2 apartments in Santa Monica, California the nation.
In the city of Los Angeles, driving is king. If you work more than 5 minutes from home, it’s an absolute necessity. It’s also the primary way you’ll experience the city. You drive through Beverly Hills. Navigate Century City. Even the most famous sites, like Hollywood Blvd., most of us only see through a car window. (Unless your friend is taking classes at Improv Olympics, in which case you’ve been there twice.)
Walking is a crime. No to the point where you’d go to jail, maybe, but certainly of the “fashion crime” variety: it’s tacky and you DON’T DO IT, because your parents taught you better than that. What, can you not afford a Prius? Even taking the bus, to many a great sin, holds more appeal to Los Angelenos than extended pavement time.
So it’s topsy-turvy out here, an inversion of the natural order. Yet only out of these ashes could something like the Urban Hike take shape.
I don’t know much about Figure Skating. If judging were up to me, athletes would all be graded on song selection (the 
Despite a) knowing next to nothing about any Winter Olympics sport, from rules to competitors to the name of the sport and b) through last Friday, not caring at all about the Vancouver Games, I’ve recently found myself — like many Americans and 
Let’s be real for a second: the Winter Olympics have always represented something of an un-sexy, boring halfway point to their summer cousin. That’s just the way it is. Too many layers of clothing (not sexy!), too much equipment (who’s running this show?), and too many unusual sports (the winter biathlon is comprised of running and SHOOTING) have made it difficult for the February games to ever capture the imagination. Particularly the collective American one, which demands entertainment and gratification at every turn. It’s just the way we’re wired.
Henning
smpage
Lifting Fog 