5:57 p.m. Mark Abma just walked by the theater. Yup, still star struck. Almost asked for his autograph. Again. Ended up just bashfully exchanging pleasantries. Wow, I'm a dork.
6:09 p.m. MSP tour director Steve Reska herds the "talent" who are all holding their first cocktails of the evening in their hands. Reska drags us to tables lined up with stacks of posters. Time to sign some John Hancocks.
6:23 p.m. My hand is cramping slightly less than my brain is. So far I've come up with two solidly creative things to write on people's posters: "Happy Landings" (which I stole from Scot Schmidt) and "Drop Cliffs, Not Bombs." The rest fall into the "Ski Some Powder!" vein of bland mediocrity. It's really cool talking to people who are so psyched to watch a ski movie tonight.
7 p.m. Off to a team dinner with the Salomon crew. Corporate credit cards and generous marketing bosses are a pro skier's syrup on the Belgian waffle we call life.
8:21 p.m. Back at the theater. Reska ushers the now mildly tipsy flock of chatty pro skiers to stage left. We jump up on stage to maddening roars from the crowd. They're definitely screaming for the athletes (or maybe it's the free t-shirts?).
9:35 p.m. Screen black. MSP's flaming logo hits the screen and the crowd goes Tasmanian wild.
9:46 p.m. Landing impossibly inverted tricks, bouncing down British Columbian pillows and spinning everything like a Fox News story, Sean Pettit continues his teenage slaughter.
9:58 p.m. Powder. Chokingly deep Japanese powder. Really? Who lucks out this good and scores powder this deep? And why does the sight of it make me this maddeningly jealous?
10:14 p.m. The word 'awesome' was invented so that we can describe Rory Bushfield.
10:25 p.m. A touching segment about the love of skiing and family with Ingrid Backstrom and the late Arne Backstrom.
10:42 p.m. I promised myself I wouldn't reference Whitney Houston's ex-husband in the Bobby Brown piece. Triple-flipping his way through a theatrical Basement Jaxx song, the double X Games champion just beat down his segment like Bobb ... dammit.
10:48 p.m. Colby James West needs a reality show.
10:55 p.m. Mark Abma got hurt last year? Weird, I thought he was an immortal demi-god.
11:06 p.m. Oh that's right, Abma's blown knee allowed me to go on my first heli-trip to Alaska with Henrik Windstedt and MSP. Here we are now. I don't want to toot my own horn on this, but ... toot, toot! This is awesome!
11:16 p.m. C'est fin. The crowd is screaming like tweens at a Justin Bieber show. Guess they liked the flick as much as I did.