All Entries Tagged With: "Rockies"

WALTON SIGHTINGS UP

(Gunnison) The late Sam Walton, illustrious founder of Wal-Mart, has been seen by several shoppers in the parking lot here. Local police, charged with investigating the possible appearances, have found nothing to suggest that the deceased entrepreneur is back in Gunnison.

“We combed the area searching for any indication that these sightings were valid,” said one officer. “All we found was a lot of chewing gum stuck to the asphalt, a few disoriented bargain hunters and some discarded shopping lists.”

Meanwhile, the climate remains one of desperate procurement with blue light specials and low, low prices strewn over a three thousand mile front.

In nearby Montrose, Walton is said to have attended a breakfast meeting to discuss the reconstruction of that store, located south of town. The facility was burned to the ground Friday when a ditch fire, encouraged by high winds, transformed the former showcase to mindless consumerism into nothing but ashes.

An irresponsible chicken rancher, Melvin Toole, 106, of 448822991166 Road has been charged with stupidity, leaving the scene of a fire, burning without a hazardous waste permit, driving while intoxicated and chronic burnout. The previously paroled palavering  pyromaniac is currently out on bail, and his flame throwing device has been confiscated by police.

Another alleged Walton sighting took place near Almont, where an elderly man was said to have dropped out of the sky and into the full view of some 20 fishermen assembled along the banks of the Taylor River. One of the witnesses told authorities that the strange visitor attempted to sell him a gross of American flags made in Taiwan.

-Uncle Pahgre

When starting up your computer always remember to check the engine block and oil level on your dipstick. If spam is present be sure to rev the engine slightly and put it slowly into low gear. That way diesel and gasoline residue will not mar the screen or block plug-ins later in the afternoon. Keeping windshields free of malware will help avoid crashes as will alleviating stress during hard drive activities. A little prevention goes a long way. Always remember: You are a pre-existing condition. Happy motoring.

SOAP OPERA SYNOPSIS

By Brittany Celebet

Daytime dramas or soap operas (in honor of longtime commercial sponsors) can be seen in fifty countries across the globe. Faithful fans number in the millions, often skipping work and family responsibilities to follow their favorites and watch as the bad guys get their just dessert.

Sometimes rural viewing is not all that easy. Little things like avalanches, frigid temperatures, empty cupboard syndrome and fires and floods can not only interrupt lives but can play havoc with afternoon television reception. It is with this in mind that we have prepared a synopsis of what is going down on the screen. Missing an episode is a little like missing your birth control pills (not paid for by employers) or your Viagra (paid for by employers). Just miss one and it can foul up the whole month.

(Note: Some shows are current while others are classics from years gone by)

“The Young and the Worthless”

Troy is still seeing Angie who is recovering from a tedious surgery to remove her from her Siamese twin brother, LeRoy, who is chronically depressed over his failure to pass the television tech exam. He is hitting the bottle. Frank, Dr. Bigelow’s attorney, continues to step out with Bigelow’s wife, Betty. Betty has quelled rumors that she is seeing LeRoy. Sherry’s divorce from Henry is not yet finalized because of a slight technicality over the possession of the couple’s James Brown records.

“Love and Money”

The return of Pamela’s father, believed to have been lost during a walrus hunt in Greenland, has prompted curious behavior in the town of Shady Corners. The girl’s mother, Pearl, who was legally separated, had embraced polygamy and married the offensive line of the Buffalo Bills. Isn’t it enough that these privileged, albeit tumultuous lives are intertwined in idleness and receivership? And now Pam’s father might not make the play-offs! Tess has left town with Delbert G., a clever ear and throat man. She will be a long way from Kentucky by nightfall. The annual onion festival reignites aromas long since muddled. What about Delbert’s love child and his fondness for her dancing instructor?

“Search For Yesterday”

With the announcement that Judith is indeed pregnant, half of the male population of Fruitcake Grove leave town. Allen has run into more medical problems prior to his operation when it is discovered that he has ice water instead of blood running through his Mohawk veins. Meanwhile Joan has filed for a divorce from her eighth husband, Harry, who was filmed in a Flemme Springs motel room with the Escucha al Monte cheerleading squad.

“As the Stomach Turns”

Gail is wrongly accused and arrested after he twin sister Margot robs a local pornography shop while assaulting the local rugby team. Her simultaneous acts of bipolar schizophrenia win Psychic Booth honorable mention at the Marigold County Fair. Lou’s lost son returns after a year in Trinidad and begins a co-dependent fling with Jack Iron, a local rummy and proprietor of the local sugar refinery. Joe leaves Debbie for Stephanie, Phil leaves Audrey for Debbie, Ted leaves Julie for the last time.

“The Guiding Blight”

Everyone in Honkeyville is shocked when Trapper Jeanie trades her illegitimate stock brokerage for a new snowmobile. Malbec Marlene confronts Scary Larry who drunkenly told Little Edward she was frigid contending that beyond all doubt she was not frigid with Canadian Art or Benjamin the Salami. Warren attempts suicide by jumping off his sofa in front of household pets. It will be his last act of defiance and he will be removed from the program’s cast in a painful and humiliating manner.

“Dancing With Stars” Pairs Evil Despots

(Hollyrock) A troupe of the world’s most evil dictators will pair up for the finale of “Dancing with the Stars” next Monday night according to a network source. In addition to what many see as positive exposure on American television, the leaders of eight selected nations will compete for a spot on the prestigious, albeit expanding, Axis of Evil.

The original host of the extravaganza, Donald Trump, had to be replaced at the eleventh hour by a bowl of knock-off Russian caviar since he is busy playing President of the United States.

A creation of the Bush Administration, the Axis of Evil initially included such carefully choreographed acts as North Korea and Iran but ignored the evil ballroom accomplishments of such stalwarts as Myanmar, Saudi Arabia and China.

The eight tyrant couples that will compete in Monday night’s presentation include Omar Hassan Al-Bashir (Sudan) with Robert Mugabe (ex-Zimbabwe); Mahmoud Ackmadinejad (Iran) with Hu Jintao (China); Isayas Afeweki (Eritrea) with Than Shwe (Myanmar) and Kim Jong-un II (North Korea) with King Abdullah (ex-Saudi Arabia). Alternates (stand-ins) include deceased tyrants Muammar al-Quaddafi (Libya) and Hugo Chavez (Venezuela).

At the time of the selections there were no women tyrants in charge of entire nations, although some Argentines would argue the point.

Each team was hand chosen based on common traits and long-range goals. For example, human rights abuses are rampant in Iran and China while women are treated like livestock in North Korea and Saudi Arabia.

“We wanted the dancing couples to be in sync and have something to talk about during breaks in the action,” said dance floor supervisor Juanita Stalini. “Each will be outfitted with sophisticated translation devices that will allow for easy exchange of information. Heck,” she offered, “maybe the performers can pick up a few good totalitarian tips while waltzing around in front of the TV cameras.”

When asked why Dick “Dick” Cheney was not included in the roster Stalini did not comment. Viewers from the international audience had nominated the former vice president 3 – 1 in last month’s mail in ballot. Hollyrock insiders say negotiations broke down: Cheney’s interest quickly diminished when it became clear that performers would be executing dance steps sans compensation.

However, government pension millionaire Cheney will appear as a special guest. Although Cheney, like Bush was not technically a dictator as such he certainly exhibited designs toward that status. Cheney will reportedly interpret Wagner’s sunny opera, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg where he will perform a snappy tap dance rendition and later join the entire troupe for the popular connect-the-dot two-step “She’s Too Fat for Me” polka to close the show.

Many of the participants see the television program as a chance to present themselves in a happy arena and to make points with the enthusiastic viewing public.

“Far too often dictators are perceived as stogie thugs who don’t take the time to smell the roses,” said Stalini. “We hope that the show helps to dispel hurtful stereotypes like these.”

This is the first time a reality show has been picked as a venue to determine the coveted Axis of Evil membership.

– Small Mouth Bess

 

“They got ‘em a car on time

and a brand new flat screen TV

While the rich keep telling them

“You’re free! You’re free! You’re free!

– from The Song of the Western Eunoch

HOLIER ORE THAN THOU

The crisp mischief of autumn’s dawn sneered through the gap in Judge Kienast’s cabin door alerting even his fire engine red longhandles, a summons to sacred service. He had just arrived mid-week and was very much taken by the beauty of Lake City. Winter would be only a leg stretch away. The quakies were already dressed in gold harvest gowns and snow-white cummerbunds. The very rock that is the San Juan shivered in the faint morning shadows.

“Today is the day I have to deal with those pain-in-the-ass preachers,” mused the innocuous magistrate, who had only a month ago been appointed state circuit judge by Colorado’s first governor, John L. Routt. With the end a bloody Civil War and the scapegoat impeachment of President Andrew Johnson, statehood had come to the former territory and political appointments flourished. Captain Edward Kienast had proven himself  a worthy soldier during the Battle of Beecher Island in 1868, and with the aid of financier David Halliday Moffat, completed law school at the University of Denver in 1877.

Now, only a year later, in 1878 BT (before Texans) and with accused cannibal Alferd Packer still at large, Kienast occupied the bench in Lake City, the town that had sprung up amid precious veins of gold and silver, in the company of ruffians and the righteous.

A little healthy competition for souls is one thing,” he said to himself as he vacated the cabin, “but these Congregationalists and Methodists are about to come to blows. I was sent here to hang horse thieves and terminate gun fighting, not mollycoddle men of the cloth and their respective frontier flocks.”

As Kienast entered his chambers from the back there was a pounding on the front door. It was Jethro Black, a former Confederate cavalryman who, ironically enough teamed with fellow deputy Chris Simmons, a Union artillery officer as the muscle intended to enforce Kienast’s law in the mining district.

     “Judge, you’d better get over to the jail,” said Black upon entering the office. Chris has them two preachers in tow. They’re threatening to shoot each other!”

On his way to the subterranean calaboose Judge Kienast reviewed the running feud that had began over the summer and had reached epidemic proportions by fall: Congregationalists, resenting the upstart Methodist contingent that had threatened the spiritual monopoly here, had accused the Methodist minister Rev. Edman of consorting with a lady of the evening. Actually the allegations were the result of a single conversation observed by three of the community’s faithful on a June night in front of the Nellie Creek Saloon. Rumors began to fly which now placed Rev. Edman in an assortment of sinful spots including poker tables, breweries and, if that don’t beat all…The Gilded Lilly, the town’s most boisterous brothel.

“Did you hear about that Methodist preacher?” asked Wilma Fry as she mindlessly slung laundry all over on Silver Street. “

“Yes, and I understand he’s confessed his wayward sins in a sermon last Sunday,” chirped Mary Walker, a neighbor. “I’m sure glad our Congregationalist minister, Rev. Kirby has remains among the righteous. Why Bill Chivers told my husband that he saw Rev. Edman coming out of that bawdy house yesterday evening right before the evening services. Oh my…”

Rev. Kirby was to be the next victim of idle chatter. Whether by coincidence or design the bristled word on the street soon turned to the immoral Congregationalist minister.

“That Rev. Kirby has always been a bit strange,” said Veronica Story, lead tenor in the Methodist choir. “Ever notice how he won’t look you in the eye?”

“I hear he was run out of town back east,” quacked Ted Adamson, the local livery operator, also a Methodist. “The word is that he had a thing for a saloon hall girl.

When Kienast arrived at the jail he was surrounded by an unholy mob. They were clambering for the release of their designated shepherds, threatening Black and Simmons if the current drama went otherwise. Outside the pious circle stood miners, horse thieves, storekeepers, muleskinners, cowboys, Utes, bankers, gamblers and medicine wagon barkers. All watched intently as this appeared to be the best entertainment the town had seen since Eddie McGinty blasted his foot off last Christmas.

Passing quietly through the doorway Kienast suddenly lit into Rev. Edman, who was being held in a small cell at the far end of the jail from his counterpart.

“What do you mean you’re going to shoot Rev. Kirby! Don’t you read your own book? Remember Thou shalt not kill or did you miss that part when you were cleaning your gun?” quipped Kienast. “What kind of example are you setting for your flock! Don’t you know they’re impressionable? Now I’m going to speak to Rev. Kirby. When I get back I expect some answers.”

Then Judge Kienast, rolling his eyes in restrained amusement, wandered down to the other end of the hall to his other guest Rev. Kirby, who was about to do battle with a fried chicken compliments of his frightened daughter.

“Don’t you take a bite!” hollered Kienast. “How dare you threaten a fellow man of the cloth and worry your own kin like that! Have you lost your mind, man? I ought to send the pair of you to the territorial prison and let you rot until the new state prison is built. That should be about ten years. How’d you like that!”

Kienast told both Edman and Kirby to get wash up, put on their boots and meet him in his office. He made sure Black and Simmons were on hand. In no time the five men sat behind closed doors, Edman and Kirby fidgeting, exchanging an occasional hostile glare.

“An eye for an eye and…” started Kirby who was met with a strong rebuttal from Edman, who called his fellow Christian “a lowly, Philistine coward”

Suddenly the two were on their feet exchanging threats, calling on all that’s holy to intercede on their behalf. Black sat them down hard on the wooden stools.

“Enough!” cried Kienast who had now run short of patience. “I was sent here to break up gunfights and bust claim jumpers, not referee a spat between preachers!”

“I challenge you to a duel, an affair d’ honneur,” spouted Kirby.

“I accept, you charlatan, you lying snake,” snarled Edman.

“I’ll have you both in gags and leg irons if I do not have quiet in my chambers,” bellowed Kienast.

After several guarded outbursts and a bold reiteration of the six-gun challenge all fell peaceful on that beautiful September afternoon. Kienast rolled out his patchwork soliloquy.

“I arrive in the San Juan to keep the peace, to punish the lawless, to protect the innocent and what do I find? Two preachers doing their best to shoot each other in the middle of the street. What to do?” he began. “Although I might be tempted to let these windbags face off at twenty paces I don’t think that would serve the public good. I could banish them from town or send them off on a chain gang up in Wyoming, but then who would give the sermon next Sunday. I just don’t know…”

Then like a pail of scalding water hitting a lukewarm Saturday night bath he came to an abrupt stop, absorbed in his thoughts. He looked back and forth at Kirby and Edman.

“One things for certain, gentlemen. I will not allow you to shoot one another,” he smiled. “It is clear that we have a problem here that won’t go away so I suggest a less dangerous competition. Take a look at the way the heathen Utes do it. They settle disputes without violence.

I am not here to decide if moral codes have been breached. I don’t care who you spend your time with. I don’t care where you go. I don’t care why, when, how or what, unless you break the law. Now both of you go home and stay there. We will meet back here in the morning and settle this matter peacefully and for good.

Both preachers shuffled out into the sunshine, straightening up their stance as they came into view of their supporters. Each performed a victorious strut, wielding the terrible swift sword at the windmills of evil and degradation. Lots of talk but no shooting.

     At the meeting the next morning Kienast thought he detected a sigh of relief when he forbade a duel.

Although neither preacher budged on charges of defamation, accusation and palpitation, the talk of gunplay had subsided. When asked for a solution to the problem at hand neither offered much, choosing to mumble away, eyes downcast, hands in lap. Kienast took the floor.

     “In light of your decision, I hereby decree that it is agreed that there will be no gun fighting but further suggest that, in order to save face, the matter be settled in a more civilized manner,” said Kienast. “In a sincere attempt to put this matter to rest in earnest I will suggest some options.”

The judge then laid out an assortment of contests designed to take the wind out of the ecclesiastic rivals. Included on that brutal roster was Indian wrestling, horse racing, bale hurling, archery, whiskey swilling, log rolling, card cutting, yodeling, tree climbing, a swimming contest at Devil’s Lake, hole digging, wood chopping, hand mucking, mule driving, flower arranging and even a tobacco spitting contest.

Quickly the two parsons agreed that the whiskey and cards could not be considered. Most of the athletic contests would be seen as giving aid and comfort to the enemy by hawks in both congregations. The wood chopping and hand mucking were not dramatic enough and the mule driving too much like teaching Sunday school. Both liked the biblical reference to casting the first stone.

“Then it’s settled,” stormed Kienast. “Rocks at thirty paces. Parsons, choose thy weapons. It’s a far cry better than slapping each other up side the head with the good book and sure beats bleeding to death in the middle of the street. Just come out throwing. No biting. No kicking. No below the belt baptisms of ore. There’s plenty of amo all over the place. You can just pick it off the ground.

Kienast then turned to Black and whispered, “And with any luck at all neither will be able to hit the broad side of a barn.”

Word of what was to become Great Western (and much heralded) Henson Creek Rock Throwing Ox Bow Incident and Chili Cookoff was greeted with much confusion by the assemblage outside. Later that night each preacher gathered his flock around him and told his side of the story. Each claimed innocence and promised lightning bolts and exoneration compliments of a vengeful God. It was then that it happened.

Without the assistance of a starter’s pistol both sets of the faithful jumped up from their pews and began stockpiling respective arsenals of rocks. Massive piles soon filled both ends of the street. As night fell whispers filled the streets and wagers were recorded.

The next day at high noon Lake City was abuzz. Little kids sold lemonade, miners took the day off work, and Ute braves ventured into town hearing the news of an epic battle between white medicine men. Both preachers wore helmets compliments of respective ladies’ auxiliaries. Moments before the fight, both wobbly contestants were massaged by makeshift trainers, given advice and encouragement. Then it was on.

To the delight of the cheering Congregationalists Kirby stalked Edman. Then Edman let fire with a hunk of lead, missing Kirby by three feet and landing right smack in the window of the Elysian Fields Funeral Parlor, across the street. A volley of rocks filled the air, each missing its mark.

As the two preachers closed in on each other it seemed apparent that first blood would be struck. Kirby let fly as Edman reached down for more ammunition. Edman let go, knicking his fellow jouster on the right leg. Kirby fired back, his chunk of ore landing just outside the door of the Lake City Bank, where Steve Nagy, the local banker/dentist stood.

In one sagacious motion Nagy swooped down and picked up the ore. He stared at it for a moment missing the action as Edman and Kirby continued launching stony projectiles at each other. He held the ore up to the light of the mid-day sun and exclaimed:

“Look at the vein in this rock. Either that’s gold or I’m a monkey’s uncle!”

The town jackal, Eddie McGinty limped over to Nagy.

“Sure as hell…that’s gold. We’ve discovered gold right here in town when all this time we’ve been traversing these mountains to mine silver. We’re all rich!”

Quickly the good folk dispersed in the direction of Henson Creek, Brush Creek, Capitol City, Crystal Peak, Red Mountain, Grassy Mountain, Slumgullion Slide and any other spot where the suspect ore could have been harvested. In a matter of minutes nobody was left in the street but Edman and Kirby. There was no congregation, no pulpit, no audience. Both dropped their rocks from their hands as Judge Kienast approached.

“Now do you see the silliness of all this?” he quacked, closing in for the kill on the day’s hostilities. “I suggest we wander over to Gunnison Avenue and a cup of tea.

“Tea, hell, let’s swallow a spot of brandy. It’s cause for celebration!” said Kirby.

Edman agreed enthusiastically and the three set off.

“Not that I believe it, Rev. Edman, but one of those fallen angels told me you were upstairs preaching up a storm with your britches to your knees,” poked Kirby.

“No truer than what the Lilly’s madam said about you riding off to Wiminuche Hot Springs after your sermon with her favorite fille de joie,” frowned Edman.

“It’s getting harder and harder to tell the righteous from the treacherous,” quipped Kienast, sipping his brandy. “Everyone strays off the path sometimes. The key is in the forgiving, isn’t that what the Bible says?

“We all get our thou shalts and our just onests all fouled up every so often,” added Kirby. “But sometimes the only thing separating us from the long winters and total pandemonium is the Sunday sermon and maybe a pair of warm socks.

“Times a-wastin,” croaked Edman. “I’m getting my sluice box and heading to the hills. The good Lord’s bidding comes in many colors, but my favorite is gold.”

“You need a partner,” smiled Kirby. “I was a prospector of ore before prospecting for souls.”

“Why not,” said Edman slamming his fist on the bar. “In this wild country a man needs a little backup.”

God made the country. Man made the city. But the Devil made the small town.

– Kevin Haley

     

     

Idyllic view on way up Ohio Pass

Alaska puts foot down