All Entries Tagged With: "Ridgway"

Lone Ranger Blacklist Kingpin?

(Santa Barbara — Feb 10, 2015) The Long Ranger, hero to thousands of Saturday morning viewers years ago, may be linked to “rogue savior of democracy” Joseph McCarthy and his heralded witch hunts in the Fifties.
According to a close, unreliable source that claims to have sat on the infamous House Committee on Un-American Activities, the Masked Man may have single-handedly ruined the careers of over 100 innocent but alleged Communist sympathizers between 1950 and 1952.
“He had a particularly gruesome vendetta against anyone who he perceived to be competition,” frowned the source. No one who rode a horse across the Silver Screen was safe.”
Congressional records just released suggest that the masked man fingered Gene Autry, Tom Mix, Roy Rogers, Hopalong Cassidy, the Cisco Kid, Jingles, Miss Kitty, Johnny Yuma, The Rifleman, Sugarfoot, Bret and Bart Maverick, Dale Evans and Ben Cartwright in 1951 alone. Back at the Hollywood bunkhouse the boys began calling him “the masked stoolie”.
Late in 1951, the Lone Ranger turned on his old pal Trigger, accusing the mount of harboring leftist ideologies. He followed this betrayal with an indictment of his loyal sidekick Tonto during the summer. This stance prompted the now famous retort “Me no commie Kemosabe” which tugged at the heartstrings of Americans easily as much as Richard Nixon’s Checkers Speech and Lyndon Johnson’s Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, which came later in the Dulles Brothers’ detrimental foreign policy scenario.
With his own series cancelled in 1958 the Masked Man ran for several minor bureaucratic positions in Southern California before getting religion and dying in 1969.
At the subsequent funeral a family spokesman told reporters that all of the public accusations were without merit, although she fell short of denying any of them. She pointed to the Ranger’s generosity in leaving both Tonto and Trigger substantial holdings in Nevada.
The righteous warrior, McCarthy, who died of alcoholism in 1957, was often featured as an extra on the television program, usually playing a bad guy. The American Civil Liberties Union has promised to look into this entire matter after lunch. – Kashmir Horseshoe

Kissing Booth to Benefit Local Pound

(Eunoch County Observer — Special Mañana Edition — February 10, 2015 ) 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 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

County Commissioners Poised to Close Bordellos

(Montrose Whirled & Post —  February 10, 2015) County Commissioners are between a rock and a hard place when it comes to the legality of the more than 40 brothels that pepper this burg. Two of the elected officials are currently maneuvering to shut down the houses of ill repute while one insists that victimless crimes are not her priority.
Varied citizen’s groups have called for the termination of these businesses. Others say leave them be. Still others want to limit the number of bordellos and place a moratorium on new establishments.
The flesh peddlers, however, are keeping a low profile until the episode blows over.
One moderate commissioner told demonstrators in front of the courthouse that he shared their concerns but reminded them that historically the ladies of the evening were quick to donate to charitable causes, served as nurses in medical emergencies and kept cowboys and miners from threatening the social strata with misdeeds and violence.
“I didn’t realize that there were that many brothels within the city limits,” he said. “And people say we have no nightlife here.”
Self-induced moralists, who want all of the houses closed immediately, voiced concern that the sub-culture encourages other unlawful behavior and sets a seedy precedent for future growth in the city.
“We have enough whores building Grand Junctionesque temples all over the damn place. I remember when this was a pleasant little town where everyone got along,” said one bystander. “That’s not true anymore. We have become a village of strangers living at the whim of the next wave of chains and strip malls.”
Bad decisions, it is acknowledged, have sold out the soul of the city, traded it for gold if you will, but the benefits of growth are as questionable as another snort of meth. Just take a peek at South Townsend. It looks like Arvada…a suburb without a city.
“If we allow these houses to continue to operate, the situation will become intolerable,” said Margot Whippett, spokesperson for a coalition of churches and businesses. “Before long we’ll have satellite businesses cropping up in those neighborhoods…more bars…marijuana dispensaries…maybe even a real bookstore. If we ignore this blemish we might even have Democrats holding public office.”
One demonstrator held up a sign that read: “Don’t tell mama I work in the oilfields. She thinks I play the piano at a brothel.” He did not elaborate when questioned by reporters.
The response from the other side of the tracks (sans railroad) was varied.
“You don’t see no hookers out trying to close churches, do you?” asked one elderly woman who has lived in the red light district since 1930. “Besides it’s good for tourism. Everybody coming to Colorado isn’t looking to buy a T-shirt or a bag of weed.” – Kashmir Horseshoe

Flying Farcheezies to Enter Budget Battle

(Mañana — Real High Times — February 10, 2015) Hungarian high wire artists, Sal and Zelmar Farcheezie will represent “undisclosed principals from the pirate sector” in the ongoing, overheated budget-balancing act now playing the nation’s capital.
According to a story in Circus World Magazine the two longtime tightrope legends have little to no experience in high finance but have spent many hours swinging and balancing themselves on high wires while employed in the Big Top.
Sal cannot keep his checkbook straight while Zelmar must use a calculator to count his fingers and toes. However, decades of expertise up high appears to outweigh inefficiencies in the arena of numbers, graphs and economic jump-starts, promoted jerkwater politicians to convince their constituencies they have the lid on tightly.
“We’ll do our best,” said Zelmar, “but what this gov’ment needs is a magician or a juggler. The current pack of coyotes running things now has practiced cookie jar politics for too long a time. Most of them would faint if they were more than three feet off the ground.”
In any case, the Farcheezies will begin their new posts Monday morning at the Department of Nickels and Dimes. Working alongside them will be the Rubber Man and Bouncy the Clown, strong advocates for the termination of all government, as we know it.
A cloudy master plan dictates the elimination of hedge funds, insider trading, credit cards and lobbyists currently squatting in Washington. Phase two, a more pleasant endeavor calls for a new National Park to be established on the banks of the Potomac. – Melvin O’Toole

Drug Abusers Are Focus of Workshop

(Special to San Juan Horseshoe – Ridgway, CO – February 10, 2015)
Researchers here are recounting tales of drug abuse, which rival reminiscence of Reefer Madness as they explore the ever-darkening picture of drug, abuse in Western Colorado. Horrid accounts of amphetamines, cocaine and heroin locked in dungeon closets, deprived of food, water and sensations for weeks, even months, are beginning to emerge as sociologists and business executives mingle to study this newest perversion among the affluent here in the Land of the Free.
The sponsor of the half-day seminar is The Greater Niwot (Colorado) Institute of technology (GNIT). Director of Perverted Studies, Goldfarb Hooked, told the handful of attendees packed into the Sardine Can Resort that abuse is rampant not only here in the Rockies but virtually everywhere in the nation.
Borrowing liberally from the account of a wealthy Dallas minister, Rev. Orem Hooker Synge, author of the popular “Miles and Miles of Cocaine”, Hooked described how drugs are systematically abused in the Lone Star State.
“People here are far from being contented with abusing drugs through neglect and inattention,” said Hooked, paraphrasing Hooker. “Texans prefer to take a more active role in their ill treatment of controlled substances:
— At a swank party in the Houston suburbs guests hooted and howled when a medical student ground powdered cocaine into a Persian rug with his Bally shoes.
— A group of Del Rio teenagers tied a marijuana cigarette to the bed and thrashed it with their ostrich-hide belts for hours.
— Deep in the Black Forest of Colorado perverted souls have been observed slowly turning the hypodermic syringe on containers of drugs, slowly and tortuously injecting them with salt water.
— In Gunnison, black amphetamine capsules were forced to shiver, naked, outside in freezing conditions while inside revelers consumed hot mincemeat pie topped with whipped cream and drank steaming flagons (and maybe even cauldrons) of spiced cider.
– Fulton Ballew

Homage to Antioquia

River of Rooftops in Salamina, Caldas, Colombia

The fevered pitch of Colombia, loud, inspired life in second helpings, is all around us.

After a week in beautiful Barrio Laurales, in the impressive city of Medellin, we are cruising the mountains of Antioquia. The green, windy paths open and close, the old men in the square welcome our bus with a stare, as if it were the first ever to pass through their little pueblo. But they are busy enough without us. They must pay daily visits to people and places today just like they have done for decades. They must lean on their canes under their Monte Cristos while their wives run the show from kitchen councils and patio palaces.

Here in Colombia altitude is everything where comfort is concerned. One can spend time in the steamy heat of Caribbean beaches or linger on hot chocolate rivers, muddied from the rain. For most Western Coloradans that option would quickly lose its luster in favor of green, dome mountains and cool, fresh climates.

Jerico, Antioquia, Colombia

Already I have experienced dirt ridges that make Red Mountain Pass look like Kansas. A rattletrap bus bounces along a dirt road filled with chuckholes and bumps left by the Conquistadors . The road twists and curves like fast waves on an asphalt beach up high somewhere in the clouds. The mountains rise and descend as we passed great forests of green, giant leaves soaring, and water flowing in the Rio Cauca. The light breezes catch up with the sun in the up and down seasick soliloquy of tortoiselike kilometers.

They often shoot video of the passengers on these buses so as to easier sort out who is who in case the thing goes over the side of the cliff. Unfortunately my driver’s video camera was broken and we had to dispense with the practice. The homage to Antioquia is full of surprises, some good, some not so good.

I’ve lived in the mountains for the better part of my life but after this hair ride I was forced into the Bar Horizonte located on the plaza next to the Stand Up Tavern in La Merced.

Today mi amarante y yo wake up in the lovely town of Jerico, about 70 miles (3 hours on mountain roads) southwest of Medellin. This sparkled postcard village is perched on the side of a mountain with strenuous stairways and charming terrazas, parks and plazas. The clop-clop of horses’ hooves on cobblestone is accompanied by the obnoxious roar of motorcycles bouncing off the canyon streets.

Our two knowledgeable museum guides are 11 and 10 years old. The youthful duo waltz us through anthropological antiquities, accented by comments peppered with schoolbook English. We give them each a Kennedy half dollar and they are pleased by the gratuity.

It will be a busy day here. First we eat a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, cheese, arepas (corn muffin tortillas) and coffee con leche (no sugar please). Then it’s time to ride the gondola that creeps up the side of one of these emerald slopes. Later we visit Henry Espinosa’s Hotel Bohio for lunch where we meet Victor “the greatest cowboy of Jerico”.

The Terraza in Jerico, Colombia

A walk up a hill past the curious stares of women window watchers to the Tango man nets a beer, a rum and Carlos Gardel before our siesta. Tonight we plan to have dinner at La Gruta, a restaurant just opened by David and Julianne two new Colombian friends. (He lived for 10 years in South Carolina.)

Yeah I know that it sounds like all we do is eat. That is not true. We log 3 to 4 miles a day wandering the sweet, spiraled, noisy streets of Jerico. Cevere! More later…