Some things go together like peanut butter and jelly. Some things don't.
Some things go together. Copy and paste. Peas and carrots. Bon and Jovi. Snowboarding and Slayer.
Some things don’t. The Grateful Dead and anything. John Mayer and anything. The Grateful Dead and John Mayer and anything.
It is a mystery to me, then, why Burton’s Creative Director Greg “Bad Santa” Dacyshyn loves them all so much and loves to roll them into bad collaborations.
You may know Mr. Dacyshyn from such hits as last year’s An Open Letter to Jake and Donna Burton:
You have two senior “leaders” working for you that have undermined you, your company, and the entire snowboarding industry for close to 15 years. The damage is deepening, and unless you take action soon, the situation will go from bad to dire.
They don’t snowboard, flaunt their wealth in the face of your modestly compensated organization, lead by intimidation and fear, and pursue countless failed projects under the guide of “being core” and “building a lifestyle business,” which benefits no one besides themselves.
And last year’s Jake and Donna Burton Respond to the Open Letter:
The internet can be a toxic place full of rumors and anonymous trolls. Don’t confuse their rants with facts. And don’t lose sight of this: It’s a good time to be at Burton. We are so excited about the future, about our direction, and about this great team. The rest is noise.
You want to know what that noise is? Do you?
THE FUCKING GRATEFUL DEAD!
Greg Dacyshyn says:
One of my favorite bands is the Grateful Dead, who have created a new version of the band called Dead & Co. They’re on tour in the US so I’ve been catching shows wherever I can including NYC, Boston and Boulder, Colorado.
Do you know who leads Dead & Co.?
And BARF CITY!
In case you are lucky and unaware of the the Grateful Dead you might look at their skull motif and you might read their lyrics like, “Driving that train, high on cocaine…” and you might think “Metal.”
But you are wrong. The Grateful Dead is not metal. It is hippie bullshit with a squeeze of rot. It is a Baby Boom of disaster. It is a beard worn long and craggly hiding bits of last night’s fondue dinner.
It ain’t good.
And now to cleanse your palate.