A MarkO trip report

“http://www.townhall.com/columnists/mikeadams/ma20050920.shtml

Sugar Mountain
Mike S. Adams (archive)

September 20, 2005

When Neil Young wrote the song “Sugar Mountain” in the 1960s, he was just a teenager. The song wasn’t about a real place. It was about coming to terms with growing up and leaving one’s childhood behind. I was 18 the first time I heard him sing the line, “You can’t be twenty on Sugar Mountain.” Today it’s still one of my favorite songs.

Last winter I went to an actual place in North Carolina called Sugar Mountain. The occasion was a youth ski trip organized by a local church. I was a chaperone. One of the other chaperones was [MarkO], a former hippie from the 1960s. He’s not really a hippie anymore, although he’s still a liberal. Now he’s raising four kids.

I learned a lot about both the 60s and liberalism, just by spending four days in the mountains with that former hippie. I wrote this column to pass on what I learned. I would hate for my readers to have to experience such a trip firsthand in order to get the knowledge I obtained through so much frustration.

My fellow chaperone got to go skiing for free since he paid for one of his children to go on the ski trip. I was a little perplexed when he showed up with, not one, but three of his children, since two of them had not paid for the trip. He just thought that he would bring them along in case some of the kids who paid didn’t show up. That way, along with him, two of his kids could ski for free. Even though that wasn’t the case, he asked if they could bum a ride to the mountains to spend some time with their older sister (who also ended up joining us later). The youth director graciously complied with his request.

When we got on the bus, the former-hippie-turned-chaperone began to take charge. He approached the bus driver (who happened to be black) and offered to tell him how to get from Wilmington to the location just east of Asheville where the group was staying. For those who don’t know, it is a straight shot up I-40, just one road for six hours.

But the former-hippie-turned-navigator had another route in mind. It involved going to South Carolina to pick up I-26. He spoke real slowly to the bus driver, hoping that he could sell him his “short-cut.” When the driver refused, he warned us that “this guy is going to need a lot of guidance.” When we looked at him, we only saw a professional bus driver. When the former hippie looked at him, he apparently saw an unintelligent black man. I have found that you can usually identify a liberal by the way he talks to black people. This was certainly no exception.

By following the route of the bus driver, we made it to our destination in less than six hours. But the driver had never been to Sugar Mountain, so we needed someone to navigate the next morning. The former hippie volunteered. The youth director consented. I didn’t voice my concerns because I thought it would be funny to watch him get lost. I also planned to time him before I offered to get us home later that night, betting that I could do so in half the time.

No one on the bus realized anything was wrong until we saw the signs saying “Welcome to Tennessee.” A sixth grader asked why we would go from a place in eastern North Carolina to a more central place in North Carolina via Tennessee. I said “by dropping lots of acid in the 60s.” Fortunately, she didn’t get the joke.

As we were entering Tennessee, I thought about the former hippie’s daughter who was wearing black leather boots and a ton of mascara. She had a pin on her jacket that said “Bush is stupid.” I wanted to ask her whether she thought that Bush was stupid enough to wind up in Tennessee while traveling westward through North Carolina (on the way to western North Carolina). But I didn’t want to interrupt her. She was reading Chomsky.

We made it to Sugar Mountain in just less than three hours. Later that day I heard the former hippie telling several of the kids that our tardiness was the bus driver’s fault because he missed several turns. Later someone (I wonder who?) reported the driver to the bus company for bad driving. The driver got in trouble with his boss, but at least the former-hippie-turned-whistle-blower was spared the embarrassment of taking the blame for getting everyone lost. I guess you could call it a little white lie.

At the end of the day, the former hippie was delighted to learn the youth director was not going to ski all weekend due to an ailing foot. He was also glad to hear that I would not be skiing because of an old Achilles tendon injury. That meant extra passes for the rest of his family. Now he could rest easy while I navigated the trip home in just one hour and 21 minutes.

In the morning, when we met for a buffet breakfast, the former hippie sat down with an enormous plate of food. He had a bowl of fruit, eggs, biscuits, five cartons of milk, and (literally) a bunch of bananas. I thought there was no way he could eat all of “his” food. I was right. He stuffed most of it in his coat and offered it to his (now four) children on the bus. Apparently, none could afford breakfast, even though four of the five members of the family were now skiing for free.

I almost felt sorry for the family until I found out they were wealthy. The oldest daughter went to a private college and paid $40,000 tuition her freshman year. Her father went there, too. It seems they were old money liberals.

The youngest child of my former-hippie/fellow chaperone was nine. He refused to drink the free milk and eat the free fruit that daddy had stolen for the rest of his family. Instead, he ate a whole carton of chocolate fudge cookies for breakfast. By the end of his breakfast the hyperactive child was shaking so badly he couldn’t hold his gloves anymore.

But before the trip was over, the kid started bragging about how his family had twenty pairs of ski goggles, although they hadn’t paid for a single one. “When someone leaves them at a table in the ski lodge, we just take them, don’t we daddy?” My fellow chaperone quickly replied, “No, son! Shut up and stop being so annoying!” It was the only form of discipline to come from former-hippie-turned-daddy all weekend.

Later, when the youngest child of the hippie-turned-ski-goggle-looter asked me to watch “his” goggles, I considered it a “teachable moment.” I told him, “Don’t you know that private property is the root of all evil? From each according to his ability…” I was interrupted by a swift kick under the table from the youth director.

And that was pretty much how the whole weekend went. The adult chaperones spend most of their time looking after the hippie-turned-chaperone to make sure that he didn’t get anyone lost, fired, or thrown in jail for stealing food or ski equipment. I was so focused on controlling him that I just ignored his daughter when she started crushing hundreds of croutons with her fist at the Pizza Hut salad bar.

When we got back from the trip, I was unsurprised to learn that the liberal chaperone once decided to have picnic with his family underneath a tree in a neighbor’s front yard. Of course, he didn’t ask his neighbor first. He just laid out a blanket and started playing his guitar and munching granola with his wife and four children. We must always remember that friends don’t let friends drop acid - at least not every day for a whole decade. The effects tend to linger for years, sometimes even decades.

Of course, I’m not suggesting that every liberal hippie from the 60s is a full-blown sociopath like my fellow chaperone. But the symptoms are always the same, aren’t they? His condescension towards blacks, his unwavering arrogance in the wake of his own obvious stupidity, his looting and hoarding of limited resources, his lack of respect for the truth, his the lack of respect for the property of others, and, mostly, his refusal to grow up.

My weekend in the mountains reminded me that liberalism is not really a political philosophy. Instead, it is a state of arrested emotional development. It is a way of thinking, which leads to no place in the real world. It is a place existing only in the imagination.

Perhaps Neil Young said it best in the 1960s: “Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain, with the barkers and the colored balloons. You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain, though you're thinking that you're leaving there too soon…””

“My understanding is that Sugar Mountain is in fact a real place.

that there was an amusement park near Young's hometown in Canada that didn't allow groups of 18 y/o plus kids in.”

“Aside from being a misinformed twit, the writer also appears to be a passive - aggressive namby pamby wimp.


Rather than assert himself during the weekend, the writer engaged in passive undermining and sabotague. He didn't have the guts to assert himself until hiding in his newpaper column, from whch perch he then felt safe to lash out with all sorts of helpful and corrective advice.

he somehow was able to extrapolate from this one individuals behavior to smear all liberals.

Given Adams' (the writers) weak and miserable character, I frankly think he was lying about the entire weekend. the liberal hippie marko character is simply a fictional strawman created to satisfy Adams need to rise above his own impotence as a man and lash out at a fictional liberal.


I wonder if Adams has someone do his wife for him too?

What a pu$$y”

“. ..it is a humouress diversion. Thanks for sharing.”

“Yeah, I thought it was humorous, as I had MarkO in mind from the second paragraph on. I can see it being true on so many levels...LOL”

“How on earth did MarkO turn into such a bogey man for you?”

“Jumpin' Jesus this guy was an A-hole. Someone should have kicked his ass. I've yet to meet a hippy that didn't have a fukked up moral compass. You'd need a super computer to figure out that declination.”

“more conservative whining.”

“It wasn't whining, CB, it was a (questionable) attempt at humor. Too bad you can't tell the difference. I am certainly not a MarkO fan, the last exchange we had he called me an elitist turd or some such thing for daring to suggest he wasn't the know-all-end-all authority on everything, which he presents himself to be.

Whining is when the libs pi$$ & moan about why Mama Government didn't wipe their butt for them. In the case of New Orleans, for example, why didn't the (Federal) government (A) anticipate that they wouldn't be given adequate instruction prior to the storm hitting (B) have a plan in place that "assumed" the local / state gov't folks were totally inept & unprepared for anytjhing (C) know that many couldn't / wouldn't follow directions then blame the government later.

That's whining.

Just some random thoughts! :)
last edited: 9/21/05 6:29:39 PM”

“I think the only thing that is questionable is Crashes use of sarcasm. I have found that Crash is a lot easier understood and seems less combative once I realized ALL his posts are sarcasm. LOL!”

“more wanderer whining”

“Just wait CB... there's potentially more to follow. I was thinking about creating a new thread entitled "Where's the ACLU - I'm OUTRAGED", or, something like that, which would wonder aloud why we haven't seen any lawsuits yet from the idiots in N.O who (1) lived below sea-level to begin with (2) had never heard of flood insurance (even though they lived below sea level & had been told for years "it was only a matter of time"?), (3) stayed in N.O. even after they were told to leave and suffered for it, real tragedy in some cases, or (4) realized it was all someone elses fault that they had an irresponsible inept for a mayor, a governor who was adrift in a sea of confusion while they were adrift in their sea of fecal matter, and realized they needed to SUE SOMEONE for their station in life! After all, it's ALL someone elses fault, THEY HAVE NO responsibility at all, and SOMEONE should pay (someone = you & me, taxpayers who go to work every day!).

Just wait... we'll see them coming, it will be fun to debate that!”

“wipe your chin, dear.”

“Man, CB, I would have expected a little better response that THAT from you. I was pretty proud of my "a governor who was adrift in a sea of confusion while they were adrift in their sea of fecal matter" line, at least you could have acknowledged some creativity on my part! :)”

“sorry. i dont have the energy and this conversation bores me”

“Well, raise my rent! Mutt finally wrote a trip report!!!!”

“Hush your mouth treebeard. Don't give landlords any ideas!”

“wanderer, you are an elitist turd and, I forgot to add last time, something of a stalker.

You have obviously been frustrated with my opinions and have repeatedly sought out ME to pick on.

I have never, that I can recall, throw the first mudball, but I am happy to throw one back at ya.

You went to the trouble of following my e-mail address to find out where I work and what my job is.

You then ridiculed me for having a job that is below your high station in life as if to prove that....".....he wasn't the know-all-end-all authority on everything, which he presents himself to be..."(your words, sweetheart).

Are you royalty?
Are you an aristocrat?

I don't care if you are the King Of Siam, you can kiss my ass just the same.

Next time you are in town(Baltimore), please stop on by and say hello.
A genius such as yourself can probably easily find my address.

I'm sure the people you work for don't mind you using their network to stalk and harrass someone, or maybe you are the high chief of the operation you work for and all you need is your own apppoval.”

“Oh boy, this is getting good! Wanderer, I believe the ball is in your court...”

“"You went to the trouble of following my e-mail address to find out where I work and what my job is."

Wanderer, let me know if ya want the home addie and home phone too. >:>”

“Actually MarkO, I was gonna send you a "nice" email but when I clicked on your name I saw it was a work addy, not a personal one, so decided not to send anything.

You have your addy listed on TT, for goodness sake, how in the world can you say that's "stalking"?

My best, life-long friend lived in Towson, I was gonna send you something related to him.”

“That was a dud of a response, wanderer. Disappointed!”

“Sorry, Mutt. I spent a lot of time in MarkO's neighborhood, there's a couple lakes near there called "Pretty Boy" & "Loch Raven", my buddy I referred to & I used to spend A LOT of time there, I think his daughter now teaches where MarkO works. Thought they might like to say hello to each other, both avid outdoors people.

Sigh.”

“You bassturd! LOL!”

“"You have your addy listed on TT, for goodness sake, how in the world can you say that's "stalking"?"

Well you went out of your way to find out what I do for a living and then posted it, without my permission, so as to ridicule me for not being of your economic class and, therefore not possibly as intelligent as you.

I would at least call that special attention.

And as for Mutt, you chicken-neck, yellow-back fairy......thanks also for the special attention.

Both of you pricks seem to like to pick a fight with me.

I won't turn the other cheek.....unless of course it's the cheek of my ass.....offered for either of ya to kiss.

sigh....

If your friend's daughter teaches here I may well be acquainted with her.
Sooner or later everyone shows up at the library.
last edited: 9/22/05 2:12:40 PM”

“MarkO, this probably won't mean much to you, but I have to post it anyway. It's a "kind of" apology / explanation. As one human being to another I feel compelled to post it anyway.

1. If I had thought you'd get so worked up about my post I certainly wouldn't have made it. After all, I wasn't calling you names such as elitist, basturd, prick, and do date I haven't asked you to kiss my ass. All of that is profanity you've aimed my direction.

2. When I saw where you worked I just naturally clicked on the link to see what you did, so that if I was to arrange an introduction to my friends daughter I could say "go look up Mark... he does "this". Making one or two clicks on a link which YOU provide in your profile certainly isn't "going out of my way".


Having said all that, I think sometimes the internet is a horrible communications medium. You don't know me at all, and I'm sure there's no way my true intent, sense of humor (which may not be to everyone's appreciation anyway:)),or tonal inflection comes through on a typewritten post, but please don't jump to conclusions & call me names, you really don't know me at all, and I've never come close to calling you a prick, bassturd, asked you to kiss my ass, etc.”

“LOL @ Mark - I'm not sure if you're just playing the part or if you're truly this thin-skinned. Whatever it is, it's entertaining!”

“Hey Mutt, your profile says "Anyting I want to know, ask!"

Here's what I want to know - where are you in Missouri? I have a bunch of biz going on in Kansas City & will be there a few times in the coming months... thought we might have a brew (or two) if we could hook up!

Oh, and if you're offended by my clicking on your name to find out where you live, I'm sorry for my "stalking" you! :)”

“This has really opened my eyes! Ya gotta be careful out there man. Take for instance me. If I were a real prick and went around pissing everyone off all the time someone could get info on me from public web sites and really make my life hell. Say, hypothetically, I worked at a publicly funded entity. Say a hypothetical school or something. Someone could send a note to my hypothetical boss…oh, let’s call her Yvonne Lev (not her real name) saying how they’ve hung out with me in chat rooms where I bragged about getting stoned at lunch time and they may want to do a piss test on me. Even if I didn’t smoke dope and had to take a piss test it’d be pretty embarrassing. And if I did smoke dope and got busted. Whoa! I could lose my job and at the least have to enter a program and not be able to smoke dope any more! Especially if the mean person carbon copied the e mail to the head of Human Resources, oh let’s call him Philllip Ross III (not his real name). Why, this place of employment would be obligated to test me because if they had prior knowledge I was stoned at work and then drove home and crashed killing myself and someone else, they could be held liable. This is all completely hypothetical though...

And THAT is why I use Yahoo and Care2.com e mail. Saves a lot of hassle!”

“Wow! This is strange.”

“Alright already.....

I dig what you're saying about inflection.
I did a lot of blue collar work and got quite used to give-and-take verbal abuse and even the occasional "physical comedy" from working with what some might say are unrefined men.

Just about all of that stuff was all in good fun......well mostly.

Still, I did not give you permission to post any of my personal information that was not already posted.

And after all it seemed a bit vindictive on your part to deliver a put-down and I have no qualms whatsoever about telling someone to kiss my ass.......ya pulled my chain.....ya gets what ya gets.

Anyway, I am tired of this crap.
How about a truce??

And as for as Mutt goes, I don't think he's too awfully thin-skinned or takes any of us jokers all that seriously.”

“Bite me Nigal...............I walk to work”

“Truce, MarkO, and again, if I did something that pi$$ed you off that much, please know it was unintentional. Yeah you may lean left & I may lean right, but that doesn't mean anything personal, at least to me. One can actually have a little fun jousting, but obviously mine doesn't come across that way so I'll drop it down a notch.”

“I'm about an hour and a half from KC, wanderer. Maybe if you're around on a weekend, we could arrange that.”

“come on you pu$$ies, fight!”

“I sometimes schedule my biz trips for a Fri or Mon (or something like that) so if I'm headed somewhere far away I can get in some backpacking in a location I've never hiked before.

So.. having said that... and at the risk of now pi$$ing off yet ANOTHER TT'r, is there anyplace in Kansas or Missouri that I'd want to backpack?

No offense... but I never think of those two states as awesome backpackin' destinations! But... I'm sure there's stuff there I'm not aware of.”

“kansas might have some pretty grasslands. i dunno. now, iowa, pttthhhh (hi lizs!)”

“MarkO, ya might want to know that I'm forwarding your e mail along to human resources Monday. I don't think they will care your tone.

have a good weekend. :)”

“Nigal, you have mail....”

“Nothing like seeing the self righteous squirm.

Mail returned. :)”

“This was pretty funny. TeeHee!!!!
Where have I been? Oh yeah....working.
You mean people here are playing on TT at work?”

“dude drunko dude . Dude this entire thread is all about you dude.”