All Entries in the "Fractured Opinion" Category

TOMMYKNOCKER TALES II

Conversing with a Dead Man

     The following is the continued story of a chance dialogue with Patrick McGinty, a miner who was killed during a labor dispute at the Smuggler-Union Mine in 1901.

Despite the laws of nature and the average life expectancy in the San Juans, McGinty lingers. He has outlived over 100,000 mules. Meeting was quite cordial at our first encounter up Marshall Basin. It was 1975.

     I accepted his invitation to a second rendezvous.

     Driving over Dallas Divide from my cabin at Willow Swamps gave me time to think about my first encounter with the spirit of Patrick McGinty. It had happened the previous Friday while camped near the Bullion Tunnel above Telluride. He had suggested we meet up again so as to “drill a few centuries of history into my head”, as he put it.

     I secured my backpack, stuffed with curiosity, and began my ghostly ascent hoping he had not forgotten. Sure, it was a little questionable, meeting up with spooks and all, but this grizzly one seemed harmless enough. It was getting dark as I dropped into Marshall Basin and I searched the horizon for crotchety squatters and their stew pot licking pack animals.

     “Hey, there! You made it. You’re late!” came a hoarse voice from the vicinity of the tunnel. “What’d you bring us for dinner?”

     “Trail mix, yogurt, sea weed, dried apricots and water,” I said, “and steaks and beans and corn on the cob.”

     He approached laughing like a prisoner given reprieve, sorting through the provisions at hand.

     “Give those first selections to my mule. You and I can chow down on the real food,” he said. “You scared me there for a minute with all this sea weed and dried apricots crap.”

     “I bought these steaks from Milt over at the Ridgway Mercantile and the corn’s from Olathe. The beans are ala tin can.”

     We started a small fire and began to prepare our alpine feast.

     “You don’t see rib eyes like this down in town anymore,” frowned McGinty. “Nowadays everyone is busy eating pasta and sushi and god knows what else. Before you know it a man won’t be able to look crossways at a steer without having the law come down on him.”

     He went on to describe the culinary experience of the average miner at the turn of the century lighting on ranch food, town food and jail food along the way. He said nobody much liked hardtack and bacon but that it traveled well.

     “Things were very different in those days,” I offered, “but maybe people appreciated what they had in a way that’s foreign now.”

     “What do you know about it!” McGinty snapped. “You weren’t even here,” he said biting into a steak. “Good steak, kid.”

     “Some day in Telluride they’ll pass an ordinance against having any fun at all, except that which is approved by some committee or the other,” he mumbled, stuffing his mouth. It was as if he hadn’t eaten for decades. “Do you have any idea what they charge for a hotel room down there?

     “Back in my day we were free. We didn’t have so many damn laws. Hell, we only had two lawyers in the whole county and they were busy fighting with each other. Today,” he sighed, “we’ve got people making laws faster than Herefords poppin’ out calves in May. I think a lot of these folks ought to get a real job or go back to where they come from…or both.”

     It was then I realized that it was time to jump back into the conversation.

     “Well, in those days you didn’t have some of the problems we have today, like rampant growth, insurance companies, government intrusion, parking, excessive taxes and polarization,” I said.

     “Hell! We had more people in Telluride in 1890 than there are today and a man carried his insurance on his hip,” said McGinty. If you want to talk about the feds I suggest you research the demise of the Silver Standard in 1894. Parking wasn’t much of a problem unless the livery was full up and there were no income taxes but we paid the town a property tax,” he continued. “Now about this polarization…it was cold back in them days too, son, don’t you think otherwise.”

     I asked him to what kinds of laws were on the books back 100 years ago and if he agreed with any of them. I think it was the cue he was waiting for.

     “The rip roaring days in Telluride lasted only 35 years and even that period was interrupted by times of economic depression,” he began. “During the heyday everyone worked, with the possible exception of the mine owners’ wives who engaged in all kind of social activity but not in politics. That alone kept the legislation down,” he smiled.

     “I remember the day the town fathers decided to outlaw the carrying of guns inside town limits. As usual they wouldn’t be the ones enforcing such a fiasco,” he explained. “That chore would go to a rather large fellow named Knous or Knobbs, or something like that. Now this Knous had a well deserved reputation for sniffin’ out trouble and putting the fire out before it got burning, but this pistol law was even too much for him. Oh, he survived the ordeal and later on was fired due to lack of fines collected. Knous was so good at his job that he never let any of the cowboys or miners get that out of control, even on Saturday night!

     “Years later Telluride had a marshal named Jim Clark who was just the opposite. He was a bully. Some said he was even sadistic. Crime jumped but so did fines and Clark served in his enforcement capacity for years,” said McGinty. “The town council and the county loved him. He was the apple of their eye, or eyes as it were. That’s a good civics lesson, heh?

     Then later we had Everett Morrow, a son-of-a bitch, who loved the hassle the newcomer hippies that were arriving to live in the San Juans.”

     He went on to talk about traveling circuses, medicine shows and licenses for such migrational diversions. He talked about Butch Cassidy, the dark, little Ute chiefs, Otto Mears, and the gambling webs weaved by people like the Reverend Mr. Ley and the infamous Parson Hogg.

     “You ever heard of a red-haired woman named Marie Scott? She has a spread of sizable proportions down west of Ridgway.”

     “I work for her,” I said.

     “Well, why didn’t you say that at first!” he snarled. “You be sure to say old Patrick McGinty says hello. She probably thinks I’m dead these days.

     “Things just aren’t the same when a man’s fortune was lying under a rock,” he said. “Gambling and bawdy houses were tolerated in those days since making them against the law would only cause bigger problems. We haven’t learned much, have we? I recall the Gold Belt and the Cozy Corner handling the tax burdens for five to ten years in the early 1900s.

     “There weren’t many eligible ladies in town in those days. I remember a real pretty one named Sally. She was from Cincinnati or somewhere back East, and I was young and in love. Well, old whatshername didn’t have eyes for me and married an older man who owned controlling stock in the Tomboy. That was three days before I got shot up at the Smuggler. I was a union man, you know.”

– Uncle Pahgre

Kissing Booth to Benefit Local Pound

(Manana) Proceeds from the popular kissing booth at the Eunuch County Fair will be donated to the local canine detention center according to Muriel Etchabarron, a large, rather aggressive woman who wanted to get her name in this story

     In its fifth year, the booth has raised at least $100 for various local charities.

     Standing next to a sign that proclaims: Pucker Up! But keep your paws in your pockets”, Etchabarron says the booth, and the kissing business in general has had its ups and downs over the 38 years that she’s been at it. She recalls smoochers galore some nights, but one night when they went eight hours straight without taking in a dime.

     “That was terribly embarrassing especially with the destroyer docked so close by and all those frisky sailors about. We may not be Vogue covers,” she smiled, “but we know how to plant one.

     “That was the first year we gave our profits to the dog people over in Wimpton, the actual county seat and service hub for the entire Discomfort Valley,” she said.

     Recently released paperwork suggests that every kiss feeds three dogs or six puppies. Two kisses can feed a cat for a week. Caretakers require more sustenance but experts say they can be provender satisfied for about six wet kisses. The booth is open ten hours per day except Sundays. The rest of he equation is dependent on the cost of kibble and on the number of pets cooling their heels at the facility.

     One local jokester suggested that the kissing booth cast switch with the residents of the shelter with the animals taking on the role of kisser.

     “The way I see it,” said Zelmo Pawns of Molar Pastures, “what we have now is a clear case of the tail wagging the dog. A change of personnel at the point of contact might shake things up. Besides,” he rambled. Who can resist the allure of a warm puppy?”

– Dag Katz

Panty Hose Great Found Strangled

The aknowledged inventor of pantyhose, 95-year-old Melvin Toole, found strangled in an unidentified library restroom this morning.

A final investigation was put to rest today after yielding little on the violent episode. Authorities admit that they have not determined if the matter as a homicide, a suicide, a hate crime or even an accident.

“More accidents happen in the bathrooms than in any other part of the house,” squibbed a visibly shaken librarian. “Toole was no spring chicken either.”

“He was in there for quite some time but, you know, but I was reluctant to knock, what with privacy laws and all,” gasped an attending staff member.

– Tommy Middlefinger

LETTERS TO THE PREDATOR

Dear Editor:

     We read with much interest your piece on dinosaur poaching in the May issue. Does Stegosaurus really taste like chicken? Does the Filibeaux clan really survive the winters on eagle steak? Why didn’t any of the other papers cover this important story?

                                    Jim-Bob Raisin, Ouray

To the editor:

     I am a newly enrolled student at Western State College but I would never have attended this session if I knew the ski area at Crested Butte would be shut down all summer. How can people here expect enrollment to increase when there’s no skiing going on? Also, while I’m on the subject of positive diversions I am shocked to find that none of the Gunnison nightspots offer aquatic karaoke. Hey, it’s the rage back east! Maybe it’s high time Gunnison County as a whole put a pencil to the problem and developed some workable solutions to this embarrassing situation. All of us aren’t into fly fishing, rodeos and small talk. If things don’t improve pronto, I’m going back to Chicago.

                                      Mario Ratshu, Oak Park, Illinois

Dear Melvin:

     It’s true. I am declaring my candidacy for President of these United States and plan to run as the Republican aspirant in 2028. Considering the state of affairs around here I think I have as good a shot as the next guy. By the way, I have appreciated the coverage your publication has given my public and private life since 1980 when I was just a measly senator from Indiana. I wanted to break the news first in the Horseshoe since it seemed like the appropriate place to do so. See you at the second whistle stop. Marilyn says howdy.

                              ˇ  J. Danforth Quayl, Kokomo, Indiana

Dear Editor:

     Please refrain from making fun of the Hutus and the Tutsis in your well respected publication. Publicity of this type only adds fuel to the fire that has been burning under the surface in Rwanda for years. Your circulation here in Kigali is much more extensive than you may have believed. PS: Thanks for hiring our gorillas. At least they may look forward to better days. We are anxious to see their by-lines in future issues. It could only improve the editorial content.

                                 Mutumbar Jones, Rwandan Embassy, Washington DC

Dear General:

     Attempting to solve the world’s problems through military intervention and economic sanctions is not working. Instead the United States should concentrate on invading only peaceful countries who are not likely to pull us into yet another quagmire. Why not leave North Korea, Iraq, Bosnia and Haiti alone and redirect our military priorities toward countries like Holland or Canada? Switzerland hasn’t been invaded since the days of Hannibal. Shouldn’t that nation be prime by now? What about a return to Grenada since, thanks to Ronald Reagan that island is once again pacified? Other potential targets for our military hardware are The South Pole, Greenland, Oz, the Shire and Shangri La. Surely everyone can understand the need to test our burgeoning arsenal of weapons but at what cost?

                                      Pete Hangstaff, Falls Church, VA

To Whom It May Concern:

     A lot of people thought you were just kidding when you wrote the story about the new oxygen pipeline from the Western Slope to Denver. Most believed you were simply trying to bring attention to the problem of the Brown Cloud and the environmental decay common to that once beautiful city. The enclosed photograph, snapped on Highway 285 near Conifer should verify all your claims and leave the doubting thomases in the dust. It clearly shows construction crews unloading pipe for that tedious chore. Thanks for uncovering this significant issue. Feel free to print the picture in your next issue.

                         Francisco Fatima Penal, Prairie Transportation Secretary

Dear Melvin:

     Maybe I will play Norwood this summer or at least Paradox.

                              Garth Brooks, Nashville

Dear Editor:

     All this talk about the presence of Grizzlies in Western Colorado has gone far enough. For your information there is one attempting to pump gas at my convenience store right now. The only problem is that she can’t get the unleaded nozzle into her gas tank and is becoming quite angry. I thought I saw it all during Bluegrass. I just hope she doesn’t want to use the bathroom too.

                                        Warren of Wexley, Telluride

Dear General:

     Can you use your influence to help find an appropriate date for the 1995 Montrose Harpoon Festival? The idea of holding it over the Fourth of July Weekend conflicts with the Lighter Than Air Balloon Affaire and only spells trouble down the road. Thanks for your assistance in this potentially explosive matter.

                                  Elliott Chamber-Montbattan, Oak Grove

Kryptonite discovered in SAN JUAN mountains

A major deposit of the rare mineral Kryptonite has been found adjacent to the present site of the Camp Bird Mine above Ouray according to assayers there. Already thousands of would-be prospectors have crowded roads in and out of the town. Kryptonite, previously thought only to exist on the pulverized planet, Krypton, is worth an estimated $830 per ounce on the open market. It is used chiefly as a computer sensitive component in plastic credit cards and in the production of cell phones.

Residents have been warned to stay in their homes until this, the latest of a multitude of booms, subsides. The last boom in Ouray stretched from 1888-1902. Continued  exposure to the mineral can allegedly cause serious side effects in judicious wise acres and other persons of constant opinion. Symptoms include loss of teeth and hair, a seriously warped sense of altitude and the tragic, slow deterioration of the brain.

Miners up Dexter Creek, where a smaller vein of Kryptonite was discovered last week, have been seen discarding once-precious gold nuggets for the lucrative Kryptonite. Many have become millionaires overnight.

“We don’t have the technology (mules) to haul out the gold and silver too,” slobbered on sluggish sluice-boxer from Montrose. “This claim alone has netted over 400,000 tons of the rich ore and we haven’t even got the price tags off the shovels yet!”

Since last Tuesday  thirteen camper cities have evolved in any available space from Ridgway to Silverton. Lumber has been cut down to make picnic tables for hungry miners while a glass of orange juice costs about nineteen dollars. Hardware and supply houses as far away as Ridgway are doing a banner business, and there’s no end in sight.

Many of the mining claims are accessible only through Ute Indian lands and some are located right smack in the middle of the Southern Ute Reservation. Mining interests have appealed to the federal government to intercede on their behalf and the state militia has taken up defensive positions surrounding the Utes. There is hope at press time that an agreement can be reached and violence averted but if not…well…there’s always Utah. At present there are 73 militia for every Indian in the region and that doesn’t take into account the over 30,000 heavily armed miners and the crew of the battleship “Colorow” that is anchored off the Uncompahgre Inlet.

In an official statement Governor Polis has asked that persons having no previous business in the area stay away unless they really need the cash.

– Rocky Flats

NEWS BRIEFS

Dr. Pepper Ends Life in Clovis

(Farewell, Texas) The lifeless body of soft drink icon, Dr. Pepper, was discovered at the Enchantment Motor Court late last night after police received a anonymous tip as to a disturbance there. Eye-witnesses say gunshots were first fired at a dysfunctional pop machine and then the perpetrator allegedly turned the gun on himself.

     Dead on the scene was Pepper, who gained early fame as an upbeat personality soon attaining greatness as the inspiration for a hyper cult called Peppers.

     “It’s sad to think of Dr. Pepper engaged in all that dancing around about nothing,” said one resident who lives in his car next to the motel. “I wonder how many bottles of pop those people had to drink to reach such a point of euphoria?”

     It was not clear why Pepper chose Clovis as the site of his bitter end. At present suicide is still illegal in New Mexico. Close associates suggest that poorly managed investments, stomach problems and disappointing romantic interludes may have led to his demise.

     Response from the soft drink industry was mixed with many offering condolences to the immediate family. The more insensitive point out that he wasn’t even a real doctor. Harsh critics say he was an overbearing also-ran who “made a mockery of all that is pure and effervescent.”

     Executives at Dr. Pepper itself say he will be missed. And now comes the tough job of finding a replacement from the over 4000 applications of employment received since yesterday.

     “We’re looking for that special personality that can pull all the other Peppers together,” sobbed one exec and retain our share of the beverage market.” – Suzie Compost

Elves will not make good air marshals say experts

(Denver) Security officials here say plans to employ hundreds of Christmas elves as federal air marshals is a big mistake. They say the elves are lazy, corrupt, often drunk and far too short for the job.

     “We need punctual, strong security personnel with enough muscle to do the job,” said Howard Ducktape, newly named security administrator at DIA, “not some pack of pathetic little clock punchers in pointy-toed shoes.”

     Ducktape went on to recommend that no elves be included on any security force at the airport. He assured travelers that the formation of a professional security team, comprised of federal workers, will be in place before the start of the new year.

     He said the 112-year-old “terrorist” apprehended by trainee elves yesterday was released after questioning. Apparently the retired school teacher from Cahone, whose name was not released, had attempted to board a plane to Reno with knitting needles in her carry-on. After a scuffle it became clear that the elves were no match for the grandma. Despite the fact that they had nixed the knitting needles they could do little to restrain her. Finally she surrendered to National Guardsmen on the scene.

     “She had nothing but praise for everyone, which is typical of  little old ladies,” said Ducktape. “It makes me sick.”

     To show there are no hard feelings the former teacher is said to be busy knitting afghans for everyone.