All Entries in the "Reflections on Disorder" Category
THE GREAT AWAKENING
If I had a nickel for every leg-pulling, eyeball rolling hunting story I’ve heard in the San Juan over the decades I’d have the cash to buy one of them fancy cell phones or at least a plug of decent chew. A list of the most preposterous episodes chronicled over the past twenty years would have to include the one told by my eternal fishing buddies, Delmar and Cedrick. We’re not talking liars here. We’re talking the perfect blend of a severely twisted imagination with a retarded memory. Here is Delmar’s rendition of the time the two found what appeared to be a stiff along the San Miguel River during deer season.
It was a particularly inhospitable November morning. Me and my cousin Cedric were out prowling for buckskin. We wanted to see how the local herd was up to before we dropped a bunch of money on licenses. I was on the far side of the river and Cedric walked the east bank. We scanned the area for about ten minutes when all of a sudden Cedric liked to jump out of his skinny hide.
“Delmar, come quick,” he gasped, as I made my way across the water at a low spot. “We got us a stiff!”
Well, sure as hell when I reached the spot in question there was a full grown man, in blaze orange, just as frozen as one of those store pizzas. We didn’t know what to do at first so I pulled my trusty jug and took a swallow. Cedrick did too. Then we sat down and had another.
“I wonder what he was doing out here?” started Cedric.
“Whatever it was, it sure didn’t agree with him,” I answered. “One thing’s for sure, though, we had better get this boy to the police before he rigor mortis sets in.”
As we sat there perplexed the weather began to warm up a touch. I would have to get the pickup which was parked about a quarter mile away down river.
“You stay here and mind the cadaver, Cedrick,” I told my cousin, “and I’ll go get our transportation.”
“I ain’t babysitting no stiff,” said Cedric.
After a little reassurance and a promise to leave the jug, Cedric came around.
“Don’t be gone long,” he pleaded.
When I returned there was Cedric talking to the stiff. He was firing away telling his captive audience all about how to track elk through the mountains and how to field dress chipmunks, or something like that. I snuck up on the two of them. Cedrick left the ground when I popped out from behind a stand of scrub oak. The stiff didn’t move.
“Don’t be scaring me,” said Cedric. “Ain’t things bad enough?”
After reflecting on that last statement I felt compelled to reflect on my jug. After another swig Cedric said, “What if the cops find us with this guy? Maybe they wouldn’t understand…”
“Now that’s good thinking, Cedric,” I said. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
We carefully loaded our find into the back of my Chevy. He looked quite comfortable and for a moment I thought I saw some color coming back into his face. We decided to bring him to Montrose since these boys in San Miguel County don’t have a morgue. As we started back toward Placerville I noticed my gas gauge was stuck on empty.
“We’d better head up Norwood Hill and grab some petrol,” I said to Cedrick, who was now preoccupied staring at our cargo through the rear window of the truck. From time to time, on the way to Norwood, Cedrick would offer an update on his condition. I had another swig and played the radio.
After purchasing two dollars of regular we decided to stop at the Lone Cone for a quick shot…what with all that road dust and all. We ran into a few hunters from Oklahoma and shared a few rounds. Then we climbed back into out outfit and headed over Dallas. We were almost down to Ridgway when Cedrick pointed to our passenger in the back.
“That boy has rolled over. Look at him. Maybe we’d better flag down the sheriff!”
“He just flopped over on that last turn,” I answered. “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere this morning. Let’s stop for a cold beer over at Old Man Prichard’s trailer.”
Finally after a few more stops we arrived in downtown Montrose where we pulled up in front of Stockman’s Cafe. Although the weather was noticeably warmer we figured that we still had about an hour to make our delivery. We went in.
“Hey, Delmar,” nudged Cedric. “Ain’t that Joe Sparrow from Gunnison? He owes me twenty dollars from last New Year’s Eve. I’m gonna get it.”
Cedrick approached Sparrow for the debt and I sat at the bar. Cedrick returned and said he had settled for a few draws as his mark had claimed temporary poverty.
“I can buy you boys a few beers but that’s gonna be it,” said Sparrow.
“We got us a stiff out in the truck,” whispered my cousin as another round of draws arrived. “You want to come out and have a look at him?”
“Not at this time of the day,” teased Sparrow. “Have another beer.”
We sat and talked for about another hour. Soon this stranger staggered up to the bar and ordered a cup of coffee.
“Had a rough night?” I asked him.
“I’ll say,” he mumbled, downing his coffee and ordering more.
“You do look a little beat up this afternoon,” offered Cedrick. “You want to sit down?”
He did so and after lunch I remembered our cargo in still the back of the pickup. I looked out at the sky. The temperature was already dropping.
“He’ll keep,” I assured myself and paid the bill.
“Yeah, that was some night,” continued our new friend who said his name was Jim and that he lived in Dalhart. “I haven’t been in that kind of shape since my first wife got married,” he laughed. “I think what I need now is a cold beer.
“Hell, I don’t even know how I got here. One minute I was walking along the river looking for my hunting camp and the next thing you know I wake up in the back of some strange pickup here in town.”
“You want to see what we got in the back of our pickup,” asked Cedrick proudly, oblivious to the developments going on under his nose.
“Oh, no thanks, son. I think I’ve seen enough for one day,” said Jim.
“It’s a goddamn stiff!” said Cedrick, a little put off that the stranger wouldn’t at least take a peek.
Aw shut up, Cedrick,” I shouted. “Jim ain’t no coroner or nothing. Besides, I think it’s time to get on with our delivery.”
Cedrick and I made our way out the door. When he looked into the bed of the pickup he jumped again.
“Delmar!” he screamed, “our stiff is gone!”
“No kidding, Cedrick,” I spat. “Our stiff is that guy Jim, from Dalhart. Now let’s clear outta here pronto.”
Cedrick turned white as a ghost. As we headed back toward home my cousin noticed a red hunting cap lying harmlessly in the back.
“And that’s Jim’s hat too, huh?” he asked.
I told Cedrick that the hat most likely belonged to Jim but that he could get another when he got back to Texas.
“Yeah, I guess we’ve already done enough for him, ain’t we?” said Cedrick.
– Uncle Pahgre
ELECTIONS NEAR MERCIFUL END
The 2012 elections are about to come to a grateful termination and we wold like to bid them a crisp, halting farewell. The competition for power is relentless even though nobody has a clue how to fix anything. The silly debates and phony smiles continue to placate an ever-growing population of partisan voters, polarized by special interests and one issue politics.
The corporate media called the debates “heated” and “bruising”. These apocalyptic pushers of the daily special are not right or left but rather keepers of Wall Street’s status quo. How can a pissing contest between two detached millionaires have any real bearing on the problems that face the middle class? If these politicians really took off the gloves there would be blood. If Obama and Romney were valid protectors of the Constitution there might even be sincerity. It has all been a piteous sideshow performed by the light of the flames of a circus tent is on fire.
We have suggested that voters bring a red crayon to the polls and simply write NO on the ballot. Sleepwalking behind the little curtain the blind and unaware watch politicians all painted up for the night on the corner. How much will they charge to sleep with the Chinese? Will they spill mascara on the opinion polls?
News flash: Off-shore fat cat Mitt Romney’s plan to gain 40 pounds before the election seems to be winning over the obese electorate. He had to do it, say supporters to balance the ticket (Paul Ryan is so skinny). A majority of the weight gain will take place in the Red States where fat already rules.
Meanwhile Obama hopes to stay in the White House with the support of everyone but white men. He talks. He walks. He plays hoops. Nothing changes. He is a reconditioned salesman for the same old sour product. The Republicans vehemently want him out but (despite their embrace of the Christian bloc) are elitist, narrow-minded and morally bankrupt. Will Romney and Ryan claim to have African heritage in the eleventh hour?
While both of these men have nice families, confident smiles and dress the part of leaders they are not even close to solving anything. What the country needs is a President with whiskers!
And then: moments after the election returns are counted the electorate will be subjected to tedious and repetitious analysis. Fodder for fools.
Peering through the smoke it may indeed make more sense to argue about gay marriage and the war on drugs. Legalized marijuana is on the Colorado ballot. What will they say about that in Egypt or Alabama? What good are state’s rights if the feds send in their goons and pull up all of our pretty plants?
In closing we apologize for the delay in presenting our much anticipated Exclusive Interview with former President George W. Bush. We thought we had him cornered in Dallas but he went over the wall of his gated community and is now reportedly hold up outside the feed lots over in Ft Worth.
– Fred Zeppelin
NATIONAL FORESTS TO GET CORPORATE SPONSORS
(Washington) Our National Forests will be assigned corporate sponsors by the end of the summer according to the Department of the Interior. As local politicians line up for the spoils and environmentalists scream bloody murder, the public seems oblivious to the move.
Sources at the Interior Department say they don’t really like the idea of allowing large companies to associate with land trusts but that the fiscal situation dictates a change in policy. Most corporations will sink millions of dollars into upkeep and preservation of the forests although some conflicts of interest have already emerged.
“It’s nothing more than what happened to all the college bowl games on New Year’s Day,” said Melvin Tool, the brainchild of the new hierarchy.
At present, several Western Colorado forests have been apportioned out and assigned corporate sponsors at least until the end of the century. The forests affected by this pilot program are the Uncompahgre, the Gunnison, the San Juan, the White River and the Routt National Forests. In the future all citizens making reference to these bodies of land will refer to the trusts as follows: the Uncompahgre is now the Prudential Uncompahgre National Forest; the Gunnison is the Frito-Lay Gunnison National Forest; The San Juan is the Xerox San Juan National Forest; the White River is the Procter and Gamble White River National Forest and the Routt is the Citicorp Routt National Forest.
In return for large financial investments the controlling corporations will be allowed to employ the land for the common good of stockholders and limit access to the public when it is determined profitable. They must also foot the bill for utilities, seasonal painting, carpeting and overall maintenance.
“We might see some company like Frito-Lay shooting a commercial near Snodgrass Mountain or a concern such as Xerox featuring some guy in Paradise Basin trying to make copies to send to a customer over in Howardsville,” flinched Tool. “Otherwise the corporate presence will be almost undetectable, especially during the winter months when everything is covered in snow and roads are inaccessible.”
It is expected that by the end of the year all the nation’s forests will graced with corporate sponsors as bidding in Europe and Asia will get off the ground next week.
“Things are running smoothly thus far as we will retain all present departments and hire about 40,000 part-time summer employees to keep an eye on things out in the woods,” added Tool. “We can still tag deer and elk, tranquilize bear and mountain lions, put up little signs and run around in our green trucks all we want,” said Tool, “but now somebody else is paying the piper.” -Kashmir Horseshoe
Do Your Work and Don’t Be Late for Dinner
In 1928 two boys sat along Boxelder Creek a little ways outside the town of Wellington, Colorado. One was Byron White, the other was his older brother, Sam. They were enjoying a relaxing Saturday afternoon following the sugar beet harvest, a brief respite from the workday world of their youth.
Although they excelled in the classroom, both worked endless hours unloading lumber and coal from the Colorado and Southern and cultivating sugar beets for the Great Western Sugar Refinery. Byron had began working in the fields at six-years-old for $1.50 per day.
That day, in the shadows of the Medicine Bows Sam talked of the future.
“Dad says if a person gets As he goes to college.”
“How many As?” asked his younger sibling.
“All As,” smiled Sam.
“Near as I can tell I’ve got 6 more years of school before college. That’s a lot of As.” said Byron.
“It’s either that or work in the refinery and stay here in Wellington,” stressed Sam.
Like most small towns there existed a constant rush by the younger residents to leave and get on with life. Wellington’s juvenile elite felt the same. One of their boyhood friends later said it all:
“I liked growing up here. You bet. But the main thing is getting out.”
Sam talked of going to the University of Colorado. Byron talked of the same, plus playing football against teams like Oklahoma and Nebraska. Both would earn full tuition scholarship after high school.
As Byron later said: “In the late 20s and early 30s the farmers weren’t making much money. There was very little money around Wellington, and I suppose you could say, by today’s standards, we were quite poor. We didn’t necessarily feel poor because everybody was more or less the same. Everybody worked for a living. Everybody. Everybody.”
***
“All right, Huddle up,” said White. “I’m gonna hit Antonio on the left side. We’ll fake the sweep and I’ll roll out. Make your blocks.”
It was New Year’s Day 1938 in the Cotton Bowl. The talented Rice squad was set across the line of scrimmage. The ball was hiked and the play came off without a hitch. White threw an 8-yard touchdown pass to Joe Antonio to put Colorado up 7-0.
The success came as no surprise to anyone least of all Whizzer White. In 1937 the Buffaloes had gone undefeated and he had been named All American, the first from Colorado in any sport. In addition he had led the nation in rushing. He lettered in baseball and basketball as well. He was the ultimate student athlete, student body president, a Rhodes Scholar and a member of Phi Beta Kappa.
White, like many players of his day, played both sides of the ball. Fortunately for CU he was in the defensive backfield during the next series of downs. The Rice quarterback forced a pass over the middle and White picked it off going 47 yards for the second touchdown. Colorado led the favored Rice team 14-0.
“Nice interception, White,” yelled the Colorado coach from the sideline. “Keep after them.”
Despite the effort the Owls battled back and won the game 28-14. It sounds a lot like the Nebraska match-ups of today.
***
After college White played pro football, (the highest paid player of the era at $15,800 per year), leading the league in rushing twice. Despite playing only three years he was named to the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame. He attended post-graduate school at Oxford, England and went to Yale Law School during off-season. During World War II he served in the South Pacific and won the Bronze Star. After the war he went back to Yale Law School, where he finished first in his class in 1946. Not bad for a beet picker from Wellington.
In 1962 he was named to the Supreme Court where he served until 1993. His athletic awards are too many to mention. Over the years he was named to every All,Hall and ball team associated with Colorado and the NFL. In 1965 his number 24 was retired by the university.
Once after retirement reporters asked him how to spell Whizzer, to which he reponded, “B-Y-R-O-N.”
According to people who knew him he made athletic and academic excellence look easy. Just a little work ethic and a desire to achieve.
Thanks to the University of Colorado Athletic Department, The Boulder Daily Camera and The Man Who Once Was Whizzer White by Dennis J. Hutchinson for information herein.
Cutting Edge Unearthed Near Silverton
(Howardsville) The notorious cutting edge, an international standard for innovation, was discovered Saturday morning by two retired miners searching for pumpkins near the entrance of Stony Pass. The topographic marvel, believed to be centuries old, was not removed but rather blueprinted with specimens rushed to town for examination.
Reliable assayers believe that the disclosure will negate previous findings by the Italian Navy in 1872 suggesting that the cutting edge was simply an anomaly, or angular deviation observed from the sun. If the cutting edge, as they insist, is now defined by one space or geographically tied to the San Juans it will be much easier to manipulate and, yes, replicate.
“In all my years as a tramp miner I’ve never seen anything like it,” said resident Don the Bomber, “unless of course one counts the night Myrna Gilhooly danced naked on the snooker table at the American Legion.”
The edge is located in a sensitive region where only last year pine trees voted to ban the United States Forest Service and seek protective status for existential woodsies and elk without partners.
For related piece turn to Gummy Bears Create Sticky Scenario on Page 45
Dinner Nursery Rhymes
Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Once upon a time, a rather precocious Goldilocks went for a walk in the woods. Losing her way she came upon a large house with a sign saying: Private Property: Keep out! – The Bear Family. Ignoring the warning Goldilocks went inside. She saw three chairs. “One is too big,” she said. “The other is too soft, but the little one is just right. Somehow all three chairs were turned over and broken.
Then in the kitchen, after pocketing some silverware, it was more of the same: “This plate is too worn while the middle one is too fragile but the little one is just right. The porridge was freeze-dried. She left a mess in the sink.
On into the bedroom she went and, after checking for valuables in all the drawers, Goldilocks saw three beds. “The big one is too hard,” she said, “while the medium sized one is too soft, but the little bed is just right.” Then, after using the bear’s toothbrushes and helping herself to a bubble bath, she fell asleep.
Moments later the Bear Family returned, strangled the intruder, and ate Goldilocks for dinner. When an investigation was mounted, the Bears were exonerated based on the Make My Day Law.
The Three Little Pigs
Once upon a time, there were three little homeless pigs. After receiving their welfare checks, they all bought building materials to construct houses. The first pig built his of straw, the second of sticks and the third of brick. Then, in what appeared to be a matter of minutes the Big Bad Wolf showed up threatening to Huff and Puff and Blow the houses in. Well, he wasn’t bullshitting. The first house was easy, the second required a bit more wind, and the third house was leveled with the assistance of Israeli Army units who just happened to be in the neighborhood looking for Palestinian terrorists. Then the Big Bad Wolf ate up all three of the pigs, and kept their earnest money. He would have offered some to the bulldozer crews but they were kosher.
Hansel and Gretel
Once upon a time a brother and sister act, Hansel and Gretel ran away from an evil stepfather back at the ranch. So as not to lose their way in the enchanted forest they dropped microwave popcorn along their trail. Unfortunately magpies ate it all (duh?) and the children became lost. After a few hours they came to a witch’s house made of candy, gingerbread and icing. They peeked into the window, began eating the insulation and siding. Soon they were caught by the witch, who had no sweet tooth to speak of, and thrown into a birdcage. The witch then fattened up Hansel and Gretel like common veal on gruel and bad Mexican food for about two weeks. Then one morning she chicken fried the two and ate one for lunch and one for dinner. She was later arrested and indicted on charges of cannibalism and is doing time as a political prisoner in Canon City.
Little Red Riding Hood
Once upon another time, Little Red Riding Hood was on her way to bring wine and cheese to grandma’s condominium on the golf course. On the way The Wolf who had only moments before gobbled up grandma, her assets and her poodle, intercepted her. Then he stole her RV. The wolf approached in a courteous manner but Little Red Riding Hood, who held a black belt in Tai-Kwon-Do was having none of it.
He quickly split, retracing his steps to grandma’s condo. The wolf, a known transvestite, changed into grandma’s clothes and hopped on the bed in apprehension of Riding Hood’s arrival. When she called out at the security gate (which the wolf had earlier easily scaled while the guard was out smoking a joint) and the wolf answered in his best grandma voice: “Yes, dear. I’m in here.”
When Riding Hood, a graduate of Western State, came into the room, she knew something was wrong but went into the familiar refrain “What big eyes you have. What a big nose you have, etc., covering the facial features, bodily gestures, breath and encroaching fur, ad nauseam. When she said something about his big, white, shiny teeth, the wolf (who had been waiting all day to deliver his line) uttered those immortal words: “All the better to eat you with!” Then he followed through and ate her all up, washing her down with the bottle of cheap white wine that was too sweet for even a wolf.
Having finished his second dinner of the day the tired wolf emptied the liquor cabinet and strolled out of grandma’s condo only to be shot fifty times by the local police who had come to bust the gate guard. He was then sold to a famous food chain and made into chicken fingers.
Jack and Jill
Jack and Jill went up the hill as we all know, but what happened then was shocking. Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill, thinking he had expired ate him for lunch. He tasted better than the peanut butter and jelly that mother had packed that morning. Jill claimed insanity and is currently under house arrest in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba where everyone lived happily ever after.
