Dear Diver,

It’s almost new calendar time. What does the Diver recommend? Fuzzy kitties and puppies are always nice, but I’m leaning more toward a legends of rock spread. (A friend had a really cool Marley calendar last year). Of course, there’s also always the utilitarian desktop calendar with plenty of space to write appointments, spill coffee, etc. What do you think? Remember, we’re talking about the next 12 months of my life here.

– Planning ahead in Durango

Dear Planning Ahead,

First let me congratulate you on your proactive attempt to organize your life. Now allow me to reprimand you for being silly and unenlightened. You see, time is an illusion, a construct of man in a futile attempt to reconcile his own mortality. If you can come to terms with your own transient existence by the New Year, then you will be able to spend the next 12 months outside of time, living a dimensionless existence in which only conscious thought matters. (Vanilla Ice still matters, but for different reasons that are difficult to explain.) If this doesn’t work for you because you’re afraid that you’ll miss something important like your significant other’s birthday, or more importantly, Snowdown) then I suggest getting a blank desk calendar tattooed upside down on your abdomen and filling it in with Crayola markers as needed. If you’re too much of a sissy for such an awesome tattoo, then I have one final suggestion. I recommend “Dirty Divers Doing Dirty Dishes Dirtily” featuring 12 months of advice and sexy dishwashing. But be warned, the picture of me rinsing out a blender wearing nothing but my baristo apron may tempt you to stay in January all year long.

– Diver

Dear Diver,

Just what exactly is a “diver” anyway? And what makes you qualified to dispense advice? I suppose we’re supposed to believe your diving for pearls of wisdom. Correct?

– S.S. (Slightly Skeptical)

Dear S.S.,

Diving for pearls of wisdom? Not correct and downright ridiculous. You have a long way to go before becoming a diver yourself, because that’s really what you’re after, isn’t it? You see, as a diver I put on my scuba suit of wisdom and dive into the ocean of your psyche in an attempt to find out what you are really asking and what you really need. After a long swim through your exceptionally murky and slightly handicapped sea, I have discovered that when you say “Dear diver, are you a fraud?” I know that you are really saying “Dear Diver, You’re my hero, how can I be like you when I’m all growed up?” To which my answer is: work your fingers to the bone, sharpen your mind to a fine point, train your glutes to granite perfection and when you think you’re ready, you may take the final test. If you can take a drunken header into Falconburgs from the hallway without having to relearn how to walk, then you may be invited to attend diver school. Good luck, I believe in you. After all, you remind me of myself before my glutes obtained granite-like perfection.

– Diver

Dear Diver,

The toughest time of my year is always the one- to three-week span between Indian summer and real-deal winter. The singletrack’s usually muddy, the backcountry skiing tends to be sparse, and I’ve never been one to cough up loads of green for groomers. In past years, I’ve found myself hemorrhaging money in southern Utah. Any suggestions for staying happy at home.

– Danny Boy, via e-mail

P.S. Prozac is not an option.

Dear Danny Boy,

I hear you cluckin’, big chicken. It can be tough to get through this awkward adolescent nonseason that is upon us. If you wish to be happy at home I suggest you move out of your parents’ basement. Then get a real job and maybe a better haircut. If that’s not enough, then I give you this quote: “The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese,” which isn’t especially relevant or helpful right now, so instead I suggest you read my personal advisor’s report entitled “Interesting activities to do in Durango that don’t involve bicycles, skis, beer or the river.” A document which can be summed up by the phrase “Hookers and blow.” No guarantee that it will stop the hemorrhaging and coughing, but at least it won’t be green money anymore. And if you’re having trouble keeping track of your inter-seasonal activities, I suggest contacting Mr. Planning Ahead, I have a feeling that pretty soon he will have a sweet calendar tattoo that he might let you use.

– Diver