No cameras here. Photo by Ryan Heffernan

Marc Peruzzi, Mountain's Editorial Director, shares his point of view about POV video cameras.

(cont'd from the main page)

Really? You think the wind sounds like an asthmatic cat? Hmm, I don't know, I didn't think of putting anyone else in the frame; wanted to focus on my ski tips in the pow. You're right. It does get a little shaky. You say you feel like barfing?

I have a point of view about POV video cameras—the latest must-have accessory for skiers. Don't get me wrong, in the right hands (or helmet), say a pro skier on fluffy, rolling, untracked terrain, someone with the time and skill to edit, one can cull out an enjoyable 30 seconds from every three hours or so of footage. As long as you have the music rights. And in strict technological terms, the wee devices are a marvel. High-definition footage from a machine the size of a deck of cards or a pack of lifesavers? Pretty cool stuff. I like filming my kids with mine. That's about it though.

Like college kids texting while driving to the Med Shed to fill their prescription, or that broker talking into his Bluetooth headset in the gondola, technology gets abused. Such is the case with helmet cams. Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! I'm a social media film star. Hey, how about I mount the camera so it's pointed directly at my face next run? Why not skip the film work and ski with a big mirror so you can see yourself better?

Here's what I'm thinking. We used to heckle anyone who had the narcissistic audacity to line up their run, wait for some crowded chairs, and then ski directly under the lifts. "Go big, Joey! Launch the gnar!" How about now, whenever we see the modern equivalent, the self-aroused auto-auteur, standing above that field of untracked powder or tasty inbounds chute, we move into position right when they're readying the camera. Wait for them to say "three, two, one, dropping!" (they all do). Then pounce. Dropping in from stage right screaming loud enough for their puny, winded microphones to pick it up. "No! No! Look at me! Look at me! I'm the great Facebook Powder Poacher!" And then laugh deviously like a cartoon vampire: "Muhuhaha!"  —Marc Peruzzi