High Country Tidbits

Vacant Lot to close doors

(Montrose) Vacant Lot Magazine, for years a leader among local publications, has announced it will publish its last issue in November. Good management blamed the failing and ultimate closure on bad management. The crisis was intensified by the poor distribution of vacant lots on the Western Slope, a chore that demands lots of drive time and makes travel quite expensive.

Citing public apathy toward the kinds of vacant lots featured in their meaningless stories the staff expressed shame at not doing a better job and anger at losing their high paying positions.

“All the public wants anymore are more stories about truckers driving backwards and mountain lions. It’s all very sick,” said an attractive, young photographer who plans to sell prints of her award-winning vacant lots shots, and engage in occasional prostitution, until something else comes along.

Some of us plan to kill ourselves but most have decided to look for a no-responsibility position locally,” said a former editor. Where’s a guy like me going to make $90,000 around here for writing a few architectural reviews or history crap? There are just too few vacant lots to make a go of it anymore,” he whined.

Another annoyance comes wrapped in political correctness. The gov’ment defines vacant lot as a small piece of property, generally within the confines of a city or town that was once developed but is now abandoned. In urban areas it is often blacktopped while in rural areas often goes to seed, weed or feed, unless it rains.

Just overnight Vacant Lot could no longer cover vacant lots that were not technically vacant lots.

“That just about did us in on its own,” said the editor, “but then when you consider the changes in the industry it’s a wonder we’re paying the light bill. * “Everything is four-color fluff these days…No real guts! No depth. The package is nice while our paper stands, stark naked, one grade above the kind you find in public rest rooms, and besides, vacant lots have always been a black and white kind of thing. They rarely result in slick textures and crisp color layouts.”

*In truth Vacant Lot owes San Miguel Power about $2011.98 from June and July.

Making Fun of Tourist’s Legs Could Net $50 Fine

(Silverton) People who laugh at or ridicule the legs of summer visitors here could face a steep fine and, in aggravated cases imprisonment according to Colorado Brie Country, an organ for the state tourist industry.

Already in July there have been over 20 tickets issued on Greene Street alone. On Blair Street/Empire the number is significantly less, at least after dark while there have been no recorded incidents elsewhere in the town.

“We had some bum hanging out near the courthouse for a few nights but, as it turned out, he didn’t care about tourists’ legs,” said a CBC source.

The tickets, which look like everyday parking tickets are quite popular as souvenirs and, in fact, are sold in many of the shops here. Money collected from the enforcement of this statewide edict will be handed over to charity.

Just what constitutes a punishable laugh, mockery or derision is still unclear and up to the discretion of the police department.

“We will make few exceptions when dealing with this kind of behavior,” said one officer.

“It’s about time the state officials did something about this kind of thing,” said a woman from Manitoba whose legs resembled twice-frozen broccoli spears.

“Sure is!” chirped a stork-like older gentlemen from the Black Forest.

“For years we’ve suffered through with our tormentors growing stronger by the day,” added another visitor, “I just wish the old folks were here to see this day.”

-Atila Diggins

 

The Pea Factory Dialogue:

“How are you doing, mister,” he says

“’Day,,” says the man, his share of thin hair as sere as the marram grass.

“Listen, tell us,” says Eneas, “do you know why there’s them peas all over the strand?”

“Eh?” says the man.

“The feckin’ ould beach is covered with peas, do you not see them?”

“Ah, yes,” says the man, “of course that’s the factory.”

“The what?”

“The pea factory up the river. Don’t the leavings of it come spilling down here? We’re so used to them we don’t see them.”

-from The Whereabouts of Eneas McNulty by Sebastian Barry

Filed Under: Reflections on Disorder

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