All Entries in the "Hard News" Category
American Tune
I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered
Or driven to its knees
Oh, but it’s all right, it’s all right
For lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
We’re traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can’t help it, I wonder what’s gone wrong
-Paul Simon, 1973
LAWN THERAPY SAVES THE DAY
A lot of my friends think I’m a moron because I spend countless hours working in my yard. Some say I’m anal-retentive because I like a nice lawn and flourishing trees. I say it’s the best therapy around when it comes to relieving stress. Imagine spending four to six hours quietly watering one Russian Olive bush or hauling leaves and branches to the dump in plastic garbage bags! It certainly gives one a feeling of insignificance in comparison to nature and the cosmos.
The trick is to get an early start. Usually I have my riding mower revving by 6 a.m. (5 a.m. on the weekends). If there’s pesky weeds or crabgrass to deal with, I get up before dark. Always attack at dawn. I forget who said that, but it’s darn good advice for the lawn enthusiast. While some guys are out playing golf or sleeping off a good drunk, I’m up to my butt in grass clippings. What a feeling. By mid-morning it’s time to move the sprinklers if I’m up to it, then a light lunch.
After lunch we move into the more technical aspect of healthy lawns maintenance although a wee nap might help promote
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SUMMER HOROSCOPE
Welcome to another stroll through the cosmic greenbelt. Be assured that the validity of the following is on par with the validity of other sacred institutions and beliefs that brush against you like a yellow-eyed feline on the back porch of the stars. Keep in mind that, in an attempt to maintain the dim-witted flow, our forecasters use only pre-World War I field glasses, great wings of wax, solar-powered probing devices and the power of two thousand crumbling ancient Roman aqueducts to formulate our appraisals. For best results apply variables from your own star sign and allow the others to feast on their own leftover stew. Do not iron. Skipping signs, cutting in line or impersonating signs other than your own will be dealt with harshly in the celestial finale, which we estimate may occur any minute now. Allow horoscopes to stand/cool for fifteen minutes before opening.
CANCER (June 21 – July 22)
Instincts of the juvenile variety may come to fruition by limelight. The smutty, orifice orchestra is not welcome in most civilized locales. There is nothing all that funny about loud burping or flatulent elevator jokes. Lady Luck’s attraction will soon melt away like ice on a summer sidewalk. But why not enjoy the ride. It’s better than pitching pennies at the ball and chain polka. Curious odors in the refrigerator could mean a night out with friends. Expound on the virtues of weight loss. Tonight: Burning tires in the streets sends a strong message.
LEO (July 23 – August 22)
In grasping the jungle pecking order it all comes down to perception. Ruffling a few feathers should not be out of one’s repertoire. Earwax analysis is helpful in small doses but has its limits. You may connect again with a Taurus and/or a two by four. With an elevator ticket why take the stairs? Circuitous routes may draw attention in the center ring. Beware of downsizing purveyors of good fortune and venomous reptiles. Cupid may take an occasional look up your skirts/kilts during the warmer weather. Simply ignore him and he will go away. Tonight: Take a number, Bozo.
VIRGO (August 23 – September 22)
Skirt ticklish situations. Thinking on your feet allows for a quick, tactical retreat at a moments notice. Windows of opportunity may be covered in cheap plastic curtains through the end of the month. Deal with adversities as you would with a sticky deck of cards. Are pedicures legal in Tehran? Hire out all ugly, unpleasant tasks while embracing delightful endeavors. Why carry that weapon around if nobody can see it? Use your nice person voice when chastising houseplants. Tonight: Gin and prune juice at twenty paces.
LIBRA (September 23 – October 22)
Keep your eyes on the horizon and your ears to the ground. Cosmetic surgery may not compensate for an in-your-face disposition. Pay attention to mixed trends. Take monetary advice to heart only if accompanied by a cash advance. Eternity is often over-rated by people who are uncomfortable with mortality. Copernicus was a heretic. The sun revolves around the earth and the earth revolves around you. Enjoy initial strolls through first class seating. It is probably as close as you will ever get to the good champagne. Tonight: Read the manual again.
SCORPIO (October 23 – November 21)
Idyllic temptations cannot be life threatening if you never leave the couch. Eroticism is an art, not a science. Always be on the lookout for a better lookout. If your right flank is exposed, shift artillery accordingly. When it comes to voicing opinions, condensed doesn’t have to mean diluted. Watch out for rogue spokes even in the positive cycle. Wash all whites separately. Write off detractors. Cultivate patience with a backhoe. Is it bad luck to walk under the ladder to success? Tonight: Tattoo removal is nothing to take lightly.
SAGITTARIUS (November 22 – December 21)
If bad habits were secure collateral, you could take out a fifteen-year mortgage on a new personality. Get some exercise this afternoon by walking down to the bar for a change. If you have been thinking about committing yourself to some kind of cause or campaign why not go the full gambit and commit yourself to an institution. They often have kitchens, nice lawns and a place to sleep. Speak clearly when using other people’s credit cards. The best time for dieting appears to be next year. The best time for romance was last year. Tonight: The best offense is a good pretense.
CAPRICORN (December 22 – January 19)
It is your responsibility to make sure that your love life/relationship/marriage does not become tedious/mundane. Variety is the answer/key. Tonight why not try apologizing/making up first and fighting later. If a business partner/client is off the wall put him/her/it through the wall at earliest convenience. Use lots of slashes and other odd punctuation throughout the summer. It will either confuse and/or impress. This is a recording. Chip shots in blinders but keep eyes wide open during time on the green. Tonight: Silly songs keep away relentless ghosts.
AQUARIUS (January 20 – February 18)
Keep a tight grip on yourself through the 19th. Perceptions of entitlement may not gel with the realities of documented social status. Conditions have a direct bearing with conditions. Landing heads up has little to do with common sense. Your underwear may be made in China. When all else fails, trust your suspenders. A lover’s triangle could turn full circle when the multiplication tables are askew. All misunderstandings can be settled with the application of a little old-fashioned logic, but learn to duck just in case. Reward small animals generously. Tonight: Promises in the dark may net strict commitments at first light.
PISCES (February 19 – March 20)
Get off the grid. Quit your job. Stop paying bills. Staying even is the same as broke when it comes to bank statement bingo. Worrying about your happiness is like drinking wheat bread. When all the bossman jobs are taken it’s time to abandon the blueberry patch. The mid-afternoon advances of a salty Neptune could leave a bad taste in your mouth come dinnertime. What weighs the most: A pound of feathers or a pound of conviction? Do creatures that hatch actually have birthdays? Tonight: It’s normal for the car wash to close at dark. It’s not about you.
ARIES (March 21 – April 19)
It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing. What matters is that you’re not doing anything. Today is perfect for making cookies in the kitchen or bombs in the basement. If fiscal worries have you singing the blues try peddling your personal version with a country twang. People actually buy that kind of garbage. Remember: The first step to solving any problem is to deny it. Limit other vocal arrangements to the shower. Get to know your limit when eating and drinking by consistently eating and drinking your limit. Tonight: Spend quality time with your woodpile.
TAURUS (April 20 – May 20)
Your intrinsic hunter/gatherer instincts are in full swing this week. Don’t attempt to fight it. Hunt and gather till you puke. Pigeons may mistake you for a statue. Dogs may mistake you for a fire hydrant. Stay away from garbage cans when the noisy trucks are in that neighborhood. Go ahead and lie to yourself. Everyone else is doing it. Give yourself a little credit for what you have already accomplished. A little humor could break the ice with strangers while out angling on the frozen lakes of desperation. Tonight: The Pope is at Nascar. Now what?
GEMINI (May 21 – June 20)
Hibernation is socially acceptable just so long as you brush your teeth afterwards. There are days when nothing goes right no matter how hard you try and other days when everything goes right even though you don’t try at all. Stay in bed till mid-afternoon then check the mail for goodies. Distinguish between your worst friend and your best enemy. Maybe they are the same person. If the sun is reluctant to shine down on you try adjusting your blinders. Many doors will open for you this month, letting in little more than an annoying draft. Whittle. Tonight: Swoon.
– Kashmir Horseshoe, sluice box alchemist, weekend conjurer, kinetic kingfish, pawn to the elements
The Uninvited Wedding Guests
The day started as most summer days high in the Elk Mountains. The early hours featured a bright, blazing sun, then sparse clouds arrived for lunch. Today was the day that Rudy Triglavic would marry Irene Sulek. Relatives from Baldwin, Pittsburgh, Elkton and parents all the way from Croatia and Slovenia were in town. The night before was filled with merry making and the following morning everyone was moving slow.
At 1 pm the families met at Queen of All Saints for the ceremony, the I dos and the you dos and then the rice…and another party. The reception was held at the home of Hugo Prespa, superintendent at the Daisy Mine. Guests included miners and their families from the Keystone, the Standard, Jokerville and Smith Hill Mines. Although competitive underground most were having a great time listening to polkas, and tunes on the gusle. They stopped mid-sentence to watch as the bride and groom engaged in the traditional wedding dance. There was prase roasting on hot ash, cevapcici and culbastija and lots of wine. Thoughts of their native Sava ran through the heads of the more recent immigrants to North America.
It was quite the scene that July day in 1899, just months before 1900 would come calling. Rudy Triglavic had arrived in Crested Butte three years before. He was a quiet man who worked hard. His family ties to the old country had been tarnished by political conflict. In a country divided into distinct regions ruled by the Byzantines, the Austrians, then by the Ottoman Turks it was not hard to make enemies. The Triglavic family had been staunch supporters of Francis Joseph in the hopes that the Austrians would create a Slavic nation like the Magyars of Hungary had won some years before.
Josip Triglavic, Rudy’s father, had even talked of leaving Slovenia. Things were not so good there for the supporters of the Hapsburgs in the dawn of nationalism. The anarchists were busy, the climate was ripe for what would be World War I. Josip had been mocked by fellow villagers because he insisted that the Austrian monarchy should be recognized as legitimate rulers of his country. There were threats on his life and on the life of his son, Rudy, who had served in Italy with the army and had even attended the university at Innsbruck. When Rudy left Europe, rumors were the residue. Had he informed on a Croatian nationalist in Zagreb? Someone had. Rudy was gone. He was a monarchist. Conclusions were drawn.
A contingent of nationalists, comprised of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes had sought to throw off the Hapsburg yoke and create a new country. They were led by a man named Draza Petrinja, a charismatic Croat from Dalmatia. Seeking to take advantage of the weaknesses of the Austrians, who had recently been defeated by the Prussians, the French and the Sardinians, the movement flourished. Along the Adriatic, especially in cities like Trieste, nationalists were openly hostile to anything Austrian. With promises of aid from Italy, they plotted a full scale revolt in the fall of 1896. Suddenly, in August, without further provocation, Austrian troops swarmed along the coastline forcing all of Dalmatia to heel. Petrinja and others were arrested and imprisoned in Carinthia. The revolt was crushed.
The entire Triglavic family, along with other supporters of the Hapsburgs, was suspect. People had looked for a scapegoat. But that was years ago. Surely the family could find reprieve from old world struggles in the Rockies.
* * *
Two cold men stood at the fringe of the reception. Each had a glass of wine in his hand. They smiled cordially although nobody knew them. Each family thought the two were guests of the other. Maybe they were friends of the bride from Ljubljana, where many Suleks still lived. Maybe they worked in the mines. Were they cousins from Pueblo? Maybe they were the caterers. At any rate, they spoke the right language and were welcomed graciously by both families.
“Which one is he?” whispered the taller of the two men.
“I can’t tell from this photograph,” was the answer. “We’ll have to wait him out. Someone will drop his name, then we’ll do our business and be gone.”
“Watch the wine,” smiled the first. “We don’t want to miss. Let’s just take it slow and strike when the party is in full swing. Surprise is our best weapon. It shouldn’t be long before most of the men are well on their way to a good drunk.”
The party went on all afternoon with much dancing and drinking. Then, at about 4:30 there was a toast from the father of the bride, Amill Sulek. The cake was cut. The band played on. It was at that moment that the two intruders first realized which guest was Rudy Triglavic.
“He’s the groom!” gulped the first. “He’s the damn groom. They didn’t say anything about shooting a groom…”
“Just relax,” whispered the second man, biting down on his lower lip then swallowing a healthy slug of wine. “We haven’t made ourselves known and there’s still time to finish our business. It’s not like we’re going to shoot the traitor right at the altar.”
Both men stood silently, confused as to what action to take. This turnabout had taken the wind out of their assassin’s sails. They had no way to consult with the people who had sent them all this way to kill Rudy Triglavic. The powers in Dalmatia had no way to know they had sent two executioners to dust off a bridegroom.
“We can’t just leave,” offered the second gunman. “If we go back without completing our mission we could end up dead too. You know how much they want this Triglavic. We have no choice. We have to give them their pound of flesh, satisfy the vengeance.”
The assassins took a seat, smiled sweetly to someone’s grandmother and were presented with a piece of wedding cake. They ate quietly until the band struck up another polka.
“The powers back home want revenge,” started the first man. “They order us to retaliate for what they believe was a betrayal. They give us steamship passage and pistols. They give us a picture…It doesn’t even look like this Triglavic. They tell us to shoot him. They didn’t say it would be on his wedding day.”
The second gunman smiled, “They wouldn’t know the bridegroom from Archduke Ferdinand. They just want vindication. All we have to do is provide them with a body. I’m not about to shoot the groom. What do you think?”
After pushing the last piece of cake into his mouth the first man sighed, “Then let’s give them one.”
After further consultation the two decided that they would pick out an acceptable victim, one different from the groom. They scanned the reception looking for the proper target. After several circles the taller man nudged the other and gestured toward an irascible crank of a man who was disrupting his corner of the festivities by arguing with his wife.
“He’s just about the same size,” quipped one of the gunmen.
“Cantankerous looking fellow,” winked the other. “Who’s gonna miss him.”
The two plotted the attack and their escape as the wedding party grew more merry. They wanted to wait until they had a clear shot, for the right time. When several of the ladies herded the children into a nearby pasture for games, they drew their pistols and fired. At first the party was not interrupted. The guests turned and thought the noise was part of the celebration. When the victim fell to the ground it became apparent that something was very wrong.
The assailants calmly holstered their pistols and disappeared as the crowd gathered around the mark, who was propped up on one elbow, talking to himself. A doctor was summoned and the victim was pronounced quite healthy with the exception of a bullet wound in the forearm and a bump on the head, suffered in the fall.
“Did we get him?” said the first man to the second as they rode furiously up Kebler.
“I aimed low, you aimed high. He must be dead,” said the second.
* * *
Weeks later the two gunmen returned to Dalmatia and announced that they had concluded the business at hand. Everyone seemed satisfied that a score had been settled. Honor had been served. The traitor was in his grave.There would be more revolts, more trouble in the Balkans, a World War to distract them. No more Rudy Triglavic.
Five months later as winter began its occupation of the East River Valley the Triglavic family received a small card. Josip, who had stayed in the United States to avoid the troubles in his country and to see his grandchildren born, opened the letter. He didn’t recognize the handwriting or the two first names on the card.
“It says here these people are very sorry for interrupting the wedding reception,” he frowned. “I remember the shock of it all and the whining from the wounded guest…as if he’d taken a bullet for the cause. That man was always a bother. Who do you suppose they were and what did they have against their target? What strange goings-on though, and at a wedding of all places. Do you really think it’s from the shooters? Why would they go to the trouble of sending a sympathy card when they never even brought a gift.”
– Kevin Haley
Hormone Spill Closes Stream of Consciousness
(Montrose) A massive hormone spill caused in part by concentrated high school graduation exercises has closed the Stream of Consciousness at least until next week. Civil engineers currently working around the clock to unclog and free up the waterway say they are making progress but the shear impact is tough to control.
“We get one current going the right way and before we know it there’s another emotional outburst or pubescent rip tides and we’re back where we started,” said one worker on the site.
The Army Corps of Engineers has considered calling in air strikes or dynamiting shallow areas but at present only shovels and one dredging machine are hard at it.
“I don’t see why all these hormones are so active now,” said the worker. “Maybe it’s spring fever.”
The State of Colorado was quick to reassure fishermen that the spill did not endanger fish and that the matter would be cleared up long before the Fourth of July Weekend.
“We may have some sensitive fish,” said one DOW spokesperson, “but everything should be back to normal soon. “I myself have never seen a trout with acne.”
