After you’ve finished wallowing in the amusement of my double entendre for “booty,” admire the fact that Voodoo Climbing is sponsoring us again!
With lots of stuff!
When I first heard about it, I secretly hoped that Gina was going to ship me one of their gigantic fuzzy crash pads, to my house, with my face embroidered on it, or maybe a naked gay porn star, or something. But she did the next best thing, which was ship us a bunch of stuff to auction off for all of you at the super awesome July 28 HC auction.
So we’ll have chalk bags, duffel bags, tote bags, and a red velvet chalk bucket, the last of which has captured my attention, in addition to the on-site massage sesh being offered by Justin DiBenedetto (I anticipate a ruthless bidding war with Todd, which could get ugly.)
Not only that, Petzl sent us a GriGri 2, which is great. Mostly because I force all of the people I teach to learn the GriGri, and thus am singlehandedly responsible for sending them a zillion dollars worth of GriGri purchases, so I’m stoked to know it’s for a company that’s all about keeping us high in the sky where we belong. Same with the Evolv Shammies, although I don’t force anything on anyone in terms of shoe selection.
I know it’s easy to get cynical about commercial vendors sponsoring us and doing videos–it is true that they are for-profit entities, and it’s good marketing for them, and they make a shit-ton of money off us, blah blah blah.
But, to get more cereal than I usually do in my blogs, (and don’t worry, our humorous rebuke to recent events is coming) the recent Chick-Fil-A announcement REALLY HURT MY FEELINGS. I expected an occasional bump in the road when carving a rainbow path into the climbing world, but not one when ordering waffle fries. Waffle fries just seem like they would be a very apolitical use of tuber. But commercial entities have the option, as our chicken nugget proprietor proved, of not sending you a red velvet chalk bucket, making you a video, sending you shoes, belay devices, coffee, what-not, and instead sending their spare change to ex-gay camps–marketing impact be damned. They also have the choice to prop up the Boy Scouts–from which we’re all banned, in case you were wondering–even though we totes know way more about how to rig their top ropes and teach kids how to back-step than that idiot with the hat and the high-waisted brown knickers that accentuate his FUPA.
The Chick-Fil-A announcement stung (“I bought so many of your nuggets and THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?”) but I have to say, I feel a lot better knowing there’s people out there who on faith will send a big box of swag to someone they’ve never met whose organization’s logo consists of two humping goats. If that doesn’t at least partially restore your faith in humanity for a few hours, I’m not sure what will.