Ladies and Gentlemen,
Undoubtedly, we're all cognizant of the impending threats to our business model: Backcountry skiing is growing more popular, snowboarding has plateaued, climate change is throwing the weather out of whack…and most importantly, our bread and butter—the Baby Boomers—are hanging up their skis for good. Despite their insistence on living forever, they will all soon be dead or at least incapable of much beyond drooling and listening to the Eagles, let alone skiing.
We've addressed this challenge as best we can by building time shares, zip lines, and spas at a frantic pace, reaching out to the Chinese market, and changing the subject whenever someone mentions climate change. But we all know that our efforts are ultimately, and sadly, just a fart in a hurricane.
Simultaneously, we face another, more insidious threat: Our economic success is rendering ski town locals extinct. Of course, this is only a problem because the robotics industry hasn't quite lived up to the scheduled predictions, but the fact remains that we still need victims, er, people to clean up after the Boomers, to stuff butts onto chairlifts, and to build elegantly rustic condos starting from the low $900,000's. Alas, we need bodies to cook, swing hammers, crank bindings, and effectively chlorinate hot tubs.
We could address this by building affordable housing and raising wages, but our shareholders, private equity/hedge fund financiers, and investors with Cayman Islands P.O. boxes have already strenously objected to that approach.
But constituents, I'm proud to report that our top-secret research department has found a two-birds/one-stone solution. We will replace the ski town locals with paying customers by using the oldest trick in the book: the Tom Sawyer Fence Painting Strategy. Quite simply, people will literally pay us to work if they think that it's play or provides some status or exclusivity.
Where the Baby Boomer generation craved status symbols, capital gains tax evasion, granite countertops, and indulgent creature comforts, the younger people with money—aka finance douches, Silicon Valley dorks, and Instagram Influencers—want Authenticity. Indeed, they want "real" experiences, metaphorical backstage passes, and the social credibility normally enjoyed by 20-year locals with strong livers, majestic facial hair, and thick glutes.
So let's give it to them.
We will offer exclusive packages of the true local experience: Killing powder laps and bro-ing down with other "locals" while living in shitty trailer homes, driving Subarus with broken defrosters, picking up dog shit from feral Alaskan Malamutes in negative-20-degree temps, and working in the service industry. It will be gritty and accessible, adventurous and insider-y. After they join our exclusive Local Experience Insiders Club (where they must prove a net worth of at least $20 million) and agree to fulfill all employment obligations, as well as Instagram their most authentic moments by using SuperEvilSkiCorp-approved hashtags like #TotallyLocal, #Core, or #KeepinItReal, the all-inclusive package will start at $24,000 a week, or the annual limit they contribute to their 401k.
With any luck, these special clients should be able to keep the show running without any need for actual locals. But what to do with those now superfluous locals? Our research department initially looked at aggressive solutions like processing them into organic small plates or harvesting their organs into smoothies for our Baby Boomer clients, but we eventually settled on putting the more useful locals (those with an aptitude for real estate sales, snow shoveling, or just kissing rich people's asses) into cryogenic storage to be resuscitated as needed, while stuffing and mounting the rest in slopeside hotel lobbies instead of the traditional taxidermied bears, goats, and mountain lions.
This plan should enable SESC to exploit the last few decades where there will still be snow. Afterward, we can then retire to our fortified lairs in New Zealand and upload our consciousnesses onto quantum hard drives that will be launched on rockets at potentially habitable planets that we can ruin next. We anticipate regulatory approval within a few days.
Chadwick McPeabody III
President of the Family McPeabody Trust