All Entries Tagged With: "Ouray"
Laugh Congress out of Office
(Ark, Arkadelphia — Gov’ment Is Your Friend — August 4, 2016)
Sometimes the voting box just don’t get it done. That’s why three local activists have organized a state-condoned Laugh-A-Thon scheduled from now through October. Supporters are asked to assemble in public places all over the country and giggle, chortle, snicker and teehee the current silver-spoon, dead weight out of office.
And since laughter is known to be contagious other interested parties are welcome to take part in the colossal, continental demonstrations.
“The idea is to bring attention to the deplorable state of government at all levels here in the United States,” said Melvin Toole, head cackler of the Laugh-A-Thon. “The underlying system is rotten, based on false hopes and accrued wealth.”
A simulated laugh event was held in Bopal, India last month with great response.
Plans to rattle the walls in Washington acknowledge the vast problems exist and recognize that laughter, while the best medicine, may not have an immediate impact due to long practiced corruption and a naive, well entrenched peasantry that will never comprehend what is going down around them.
“It may take a more than a few chuckles to pry these parasites from the power base but it beats sitting around watching television,” said a second guffaw source. “We plan to localize the effort later in the summer with laughter sessions in small towns and rural counties across this great land.”
Grass roots as it may be, only time will tell if the nation’s hard-pressed puritans, not likely to crack so much as a small a smile, will get behind this hilarious effort.
– Tommy Middlefinger
“The nation is ruined yet the mountains and the rivers remain.”
– Tu Fu, Dang Dynasty, 900 AD
No, vacant Walmart isn’t to be a community pot garden
Remember the poster that invited people to a Community Pot Garden back a week or so ago? It got some pretty funny response close to home in Juneau. We cannot say any more until our lawyer wakes from his afternoon nap.
By SAM DeGRAVE
JUNEAU EMPIRE, August 4, 2016
Several fliers have recently been posted on bulletin boards downtown advertising a “community pot garden” in the vacant Walmart building off Glacier Highway.
“Former superstore means lots of room!” the fliers read. “Communal care brings back the ‘60s!”
The fliers also promote “expert advice” and “24-hour armed security.” Unfortunately for any aspiring growers, one thing the fliers don’t advertise is a contact number for any interested parties. And nobody in Juneau’s cannabis community seems to know who is behind them.
“I thought that was kind of strange when I saw it; it definitely caught me off-guard,” said James Barrett, co-owner of Rainforest Farms LLC, a cannabis business in Juneau. Barrett also serves as an administrator for Southeast Alaska Cannabis Culture, a Facebook group “to post anything cannabis related.
But if these fliers still have your green thumb itching, prepare to be disappointed. The empty big-box store won’t be returning anybody to the era of flower power as advertised.
Walmart spokesperson Delia Garcia told the Empire that though the company is still actively marketing the property, a community pot garden “would be inconsistent with how Walmart has re-tenanted its properties in the past.”
Garcia wouldn’t comment further on the flier, nor would she confirm whether anybody had approached the company about turning the building into a community garden.
Regardless of what Walmart has in store for its former Juneau location, repurposing it as the fliers suggest wouldn’t work.
“I don’t see any way a community pot garden could be possible in Walmart,” Loren Jones told the Empire Friday morning.
Jones is a member of the Juneau Assembly and the Alaska Marijuana Control Board. He doesn’t speak for either organization, but being involved with each has allowed him to familiarize himself with the state’s marijuana regulations, which he said would prohibit the proposed pot garden.
House Bill 75, a marijuana bill that worked its way through the state House and Senate during the legislative session, became effective under state law Thursday. It allows each Alaska resident at least 21 years old to grow up to six marijuana plants — only three of which can be mature — in his or her home. But it caps the total number of plants allowed in one household at 12.
This means that even if three or more people, all of whom were older than 21, were sharing a house, they still couldn’t grow more than a dozen plants. (The law also dictates that only six of those could be mature at one time.)
This is the first of many problems with the pot garden proposal.
If somebody were to buy Walmart, which is currently for sale with an asking price of $2.5 million, he or she would only be able to grow 12 marijuana plants in the massive 121,640-square-foot facility. That’s one heck of a power bill for a dozen plants.
“The limit of 12 plants alone would eliminate that,” Jones said of the community garden. “It would have to be a full-blown commercial operation.”
But even then, the garden wouldn’t be able to function like most community gardens because each person involved in the operation would need the marijuana handler permit required by state law. Each gardener would also have to be employed by whomever owned the whole operation in order to grow in the building.
The real kicker, though, is that no one would be able to take his or her crop home at the end of the day. State regulations prohibit commercial growers from distributing their products to any person or entity other than another licensed business, be it a retailer or a processor.
It’s unlikely that Alaskans will see community marijuana gardens in the former big-box store or anywhere else without substantial changes to the law.
• Contact reporter Sam DeGrave at 523-2279 or sam.degrave@juneauempire.com.
Rockies Dar Castro a Look
(Blake Street – El Curveball Tropical – 18 de julio. 2016)
Las nuevas aventuras del personal de pitcheo Colorado Rockies ahora incluirán ex lanzador cubano y el presidente Fidel Castro. El equipo nacional de Liga planea trabajar el año de edad, durante el entrenamiento de primavera de r
El pensamiento arrojado incluso por sus más fieles seguidores en la isla de Cuba, Castro ha hecho resurgir en los últimos tiempos, compitiendo con algunos de los mejores jugadores en Cuba mientras se gira en estadísticas impresionantes. En sus años de juventud Castro tomó una decisión histórica entre la facultad de derecho y el béisbol luego se conformó con el dictador.
Ahora jubilado, que quiere jugar a la pelota de nuevo. Con el nuevo florecimiento diplomacia entre los EE.UU. y Cuba no debe enfrentar problemas de inmigración o de encontrarse a sí mismo acosado por las sombras feas de la deserción.
“Si sus piernas sostienen que yo creo que tiene un par de entradas a la izquierda,” dijo un escucha Rockies. “No le estamos esperando para robar una gran cantidad de bases o la cubierta del jardín central, sólo tirar strikes.”
Una figura imponente en el montículo durante décadas en la isla, Castro tiene años de intimidación efectiva en su haber. Si va a usar un uniforme del equipo reglamento o sus fatigas más familiares estarán hasta funcionarios de la liga que están monitoreando el evento con gran interés.
Castro se espera al entrenamiento para los Rockies en febrero en una instalación sin nombre en una fecha no revelada. Se espera que grandes multitudes. Las pruebas para el personal de socorro Colorado Rockies entonces comenzará en marzo. Se observará protocolo normal: La mujer y los niños primero.
Varios otros equipos, incluyendo los Dodgers y los Reales han abierto un diálogo con Castro y su agente Gabriel Márquez de Colombia. Márquez, un famoso novelista espera saldar su cliente aterrizar una posición de exploración en el Barranquilla antes de Carnaval.
Si Castro hace el corte que se saltará los menores debido a su avanzada edad.
– Cachemira Herradura
Last Year of My Life (Continued)
The Journals of Patrick McGinty
continued from yesterday
Is this a rash I see? Good lord I’ve got the pox! Maybe that’s the problem. One would think the doc could have diagnosed something so obvious. The train conductor tells me of a brother who dies of ulcerative colitis. That sounds important. If I’m going to drop dead I’d just as soon it be from something with an important sounding name or maybe it would be better to get run over by this train. It’s quicker. The conductor shakes me. We’re in Ridgway. He says I passed out and was mumbling about covering home with the bases loaded. The pain is bad today. There’s a McGinty family living somewhere in Ouray County. They might be relatives although they’ve never produced any ball players, so I doubt it. Prospects here are slim since everyone is working for the railroad or in the gold mines. Who can blame them for wanting to get ahead. Damn the pain! I hope if this is it they bury me with my spikes on. I’ll have to dig them out of my locker back in Denver. It’s been 10 years since I’ve played ball. What torture sitting there on the bench watching our boys take a pasting.
The train creeps over Dallas and makes a stop at Sams. Two young boys are playing catch along the tracks. One says he lost his only pair of shoes in Leopard Creek and is hoping for an early summer. That one kid has a cannon for an arm. I leave him my calling card. A prune-faced woman approaches as I board the train. She scolds the boy, and tears up the card while letting loose a scowl in my direction. They never said it would be easy. The pain in my back is getting worse. I wonder if it’s the altitude? I think I’m developing puritis ani…or something like that. Dr. Turlo prescribed a furlough from whiskey then he headed off to the local bar for lunch. I wonder if there’s a hospital in Telluride these days and, for that matter, if I’ll make it that far.
It’s snowing as we climb the last pass to Telluride and it’s only a few months till the dog days arrive back in the Midwest. There’s a rancher’s kid here by the name of Collins that I came to see play but the weather could be a problem. His dad was shot during the labor dispute in 1902 and I think he wants out of Telluride. Too many bad memories. All this way for another snowstorm. Maybe I should seek honest work like preaching or gallivanting around the countryside with a medicine wagon. I’m too old to find a rich woman to marry and too young to retreat to the rocking chair. Mining and baseball have a lot in common. The workers and players do the sweating and the owners make the money. But at least we play ball above ground in the sun. I sign up Eddie Dougherty, Mike Finnegan and two Tyrolean kids named Petresko. One looks like a catcher and the other throws kind of funny. Who knows. Telluride’s really hopping tonight. The miners must have just got paid. There’s not much point in getting back to the room since I can’t sleep anyway. I think I’ll take a walk.
I wake up in a room filled with the smell of roses and ammonium. There’s a nurse standing nearby. Did I die? Is this some kind of celestial emergency room? She brings me water as a young man walks into the room. He asked how I’m feeling. I say it’s too early to tell. He tells me how he found me passed out in an alley in Finntown. Thought I was drunk but then thought better when he checked me. Says I was screaming like bloody murder. It’s all foggy to me. After I tell him what I do he says he’s a baseball player and was the youngest member of the state championship team in 1913.
Then the doctor comes in and we go through all the pleasantries again. Hey, the pain is gone. Upon consultation with the doc I find that I have passed a kidney stone. Apparently I accomplished this feat at about three o’clock in the morning on the way to his office. Guess I kept the whole town up half the night. The kid asks if I want to see the little devil and I decline. Damn, I feel better. He brings me some eggs as the nurse encourages me to get up and walk around. The kid wants to talk baseball. Says he remembers me when I played for the Tigers in 1908 but that he won a few dollars betting on the Cubs in the World Series. We lost it four games to one.
According to this enlightened doctor I should be fine in a day or two. He adds that he can’t do much for my gout. I ask about my strangulated hernia and he just shakes his head. What about that pain? I thought I had tuberculosis or something. He laughs and says a kidney stone is no walk in the park. That’s a great way to put it, doc. He says I’m as healthy as a horse but should slow down on the drinking. I wire the doctor in Denver that I will not be keeping my appointment. I hear there are a couple of pitching prospects down in Dolores and a Ute kid built like Ping Bodie. I’m on my way.
– Rocky Flats
The Last Year of My Life
From the Journals of Patrick McGinty May, 1919
Travel this spring is different. I am not long for this world. That old sawbones in Denver should be able to tell me something next week. At least he’s honest, not like that croaker in Lamar. Sure, I’ll just get lots of rest and stay away from whiskey. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Did he have to go to medical school back east for both of those years to figure out that remedy? I think all these doctors should go off somewhere together and search for a cure for congenital stupidity and bad handwriting.
In just about an hour we’ll reach Gunnison and I can stretch my legs. This train is hell on my back and my kidneys. Maybe I’ve got that Chrome’s disease. It sure did a job on Harry Selig and he was no older than I am. He could have managed in the Majors but for his health. I can see Tomichi Creek. There’s a great hotel in this town called the LaVeta but one doesn’t stay there overnight on a baseball man’s salary. They say there are even tunnels right from the hotel to the houses of delight. Maybe someday, when one of my teams goes all the way, I’ll go all the way. I’ve always had a great time in Gunnison but I do miss my old third baseman Chuck Morganthau who caught a bullet in France. He had a pretty wife and a lot of ability but something tells me he’d never be able to support a family scooping up grounders and hitting line drives.
The train has finally stopped. My back feels better. I wonder if there’s a pharmacy in this town anymore. What with all the federal interference it’s hard for a fellow to get anything that works on pain. I hear there are a couple of fine pitching prospects working the mines in Crested Butte. Of course if they decide to give baseball a shot they could put their futures in jeopardy. The mines, although dangerous, pay a decent wage and one’s career can last longer. Nobody wants to pay for entertainment these days unless it’s Ziegfeld’s or neighborhood cock fights. Why that Rosencrantz kid might have gone all the way to the big leagues if his father didn’t insist on his going to the normal school. I suppose he’s teaching school somewhere in these mountains. At least he makes a decent salary. The Jews aren’t stupid.
The two boys that I heard about in Crested Butte can throw hard but one is married with three kids and the other can’t speak a lick of English. Maybe next year? It’s back on the damn train for me after a night of sleeplessness at Molly Duran’s Boarding House and a breakfast of biscuits and gravy at the Sodd House. Elmer Sodd told me he wants to sponsor a Fourth of July double-header between the Gunnison team and whatever heap of scrap I manage to put on the field. I say I’ll get back to him. What a pompous bastard he is sitting back in his kitchen, but he was quite a prize fighter in his day, even fought Dempsey down in Alamosa. He’d have whipped him too, from what I hear, but the ref called the fight due to Sodd’s broken ribs and an eye that refuses to go back into its socket, even to this day. The joke around here is that the thing will end up in someone’s pancake batter before it’s all said and done with.
The train barely pulls out of Gunnison and we’re already in Montrose. I must have nodded off despite this damn foot. Could be the gout. I wonder if that’s the trouble. Can somebody’s gout creep all the way up the legs and make mush out of the back. I wonder if I ruptured something last season and it’s just waiting around to line one past me when I’m not looking? Montrose has fielded some fine teams over the decade although the war took its toll. I was too old for that dance but I did spend a few feverish nights in Cuba at the turn-of-the-century.
According to the morning paper Babe Ruth hit a 587-foot homer against the Giants down in Florida. That boy has all the tools and he’s making a living. Other than the White Sox, and Joe Jackson, the Yankees seem to have an inside track on the pennant. The Reds look good in the National League. The rest of the paper is full of careful debates on Prohibition and updates on the peace conference at Versailles. It should be fun checking out the whiskey operations in the San Juans. I’ve got three kids signed from this part of the valley and all of them should show up at least until the sugar beets are ripe.
Continued tomorrow on www.sanjuanhhorseshoe.com
on “Featured Peeks” Page
