Tuesday, June 1, 2010

SUNNY SKIES WITH A HINT OF GRAY


Woke up to another fine day, packing up and heading right out on the road. Made a short detour to the mining "ghost town" of St. Elmo, a suburb of Iron City. Looks like people have begun moving in and making slow progress fixing the place up. Back out on the highway, heading south into the San Luis Valley, 14,000 foot peaks on either side of the valley.




Breakfast in Salida. Our first stop was the UFO Watchtower in the middle of the valley. A guy on a golf cart took our $5, telling me he's seen nothing unusual, but that his aunt has seen over 1500 UFOs in her many years living nearby. It was an interesting detour, breaking up the monotony of the drive.






Our next stop was just down the road at the Alligator Farm. The original purpose of the farm was to raise fish for sale in stores and restaurants, the gators used for cleaning up the resulting scraps. But the gators stole the show and with a bunch of other reptiles are the main attraction and money maker for the farm. It was surprising how busy the place was considering the steep entry fee charged. Many alligators lounging in the pools, soaking up the sun, old tires used as pillows. People brought their dogs along and I kept on thinking what would happen if they were tossed into the alligator pen. The alligators seemed so well fed that I think any live animal in the pen would come out ok.






Arrived in Taos, New Mexico in time for lunch. Parked the car and walked the streets in the downtown area where an amazing number of art galleries are located. An art festival with booths selling everything from sculptures and paintings was also happening in the park. Too much to see, especially when the kids tire of it quickly. By late afternoon it was time for a diversion.



Before leaving home I checked and confirmed there were a pair of natural hot springs in the area, both located a short distance from one another, but on opposite sides of the Rio Grande River canyon near Arroyo Hondo. The first one we visited was a short distance off a hairpin turn on the road out of the canyon, the turnoff occupied by a group of Spanish speaking guys who were drinking beer and playing their music on the car stereo. Their version of "party on the pass." Black Rock Hot Spring was a small pool at river level, the water in it lukewarm in temperature, but still warmer than the melt water running down the river. Not enticing enough to get in so we return to the parked vehicle, another one or two new car having pulled in for the beer drinking party.


Our next objective was Stagecoach Hot Spring somewhere downstream on the opposite bank of the river. Rutted backroads lead towards our destination, visible by the old pony express road leading down the wall of the canyon. After a couple of missteps, I figured out the correct location of the trailhead, but by then it was late and we decided against going down to the spring. Back to Taos where we had a fine dinner at Anotonio's, closing the place down. We drove north on the highway out of town into the national forest where I found a secluded turnoff into the Ponderosa pine forest where we set up the tent and spent the night.


Coffee and microwave breakfast burritos from the gas station kick start the day. Back on the bumpy roads to the trailhead and on down the canyon wall following the old pony express road to Stagecaoch Hot Spring. Clear water filled pool alongside a fast moving muddy river. The view up river revealed an advancing party of people filled rafts and kayaks, our seclusion to be short lived. Soaked in the bathwater warm pool enjoying the warmth and sunshine. I could have spent hours lounging around down there. Shortly thereafter the steady stream of people began to arrive, either hiking down the trail or pulling ashore from rafts on the river. We were done shortly before noon and returned to the waiting car above. I took the better road out to the highway, driving through a community of odd and interestingly designed homes, noting the entry for future use next winter when I ski Taos and look for a place to soak my bones afterwards.














Back to Taos where we hit a few more art galleries and had lunch at The Alley Cantina. I could not leave town without purchasing something to add to the collection at home.

What was most unusual about this Memorial Day weekend was that this artsy town was filled with bikers on their motorcycles. Apparently there was a biker festival in Red River, both that mountain community and Taos being located on the road known as the "Enchanted Loop." Endless streams of loud motorcycles, what I envision Sturgis, North Dakota being like in August. It was nice leaving the area and the ever present roar of the road bikes.




The kids were anxious to get back home. I was burned out on art galleries. By Sunday afternoon we turned around and began driving the 300 miles back to Denver. But not before taking a detour through the Wet Valley on the east side of the spectacular Sangre de Cristo Mountains. By late afternoon, I saw where they got the expression "purple mountain majesty." The range is stunningly beautiful, with the 14,000 foot tall Crestone Peak, Crestone Needle and Humbolt Peak dominating in its center. Down to the Arkansas River, through Colorado Springs and we arrive home around 10PM. Enough time for a virtual concert!










I grabbed a flask, cigar and CD, heading out to the prairie where I put the new truck to the test, especially after having the stereo taken out of the old truck and put in the new one. What's great is that the additional door that provides access to the backseat area allows the rear speakers to now broadcast their sound directly outside. Great sound! I popped in The Bunnymen's "gray" album, the remastered version with several bonus tracks. Having parked in a remote location, I cranked up the music and thoroughly enjoyed myself, watching the near full moon rise up over the eastern horizon. Back home sometime before midnight.


The justice system
Marching to the law's drumbeat
Lives break underfoot

The cold moonlight
It shines on everyone
And yet for no one


Left so suddenly
Shadows of their memory
Never to grow old

Gunships deadly fire
Laugh as the bodies crumble
Bloody hands high five

Drumbeat marks wars toll
Marching towards the dark summit
Grim, far off mountain


Monday, May 31, 2010

PiL ROCKS IRON CITY



The Memorial Day Holiday coupled with a mandatory budget balancing furlough day provided us with a long weekend that I insisted we take advantage of. The wife and kids were up for it.

First up was an early morning drive to A Basin for some great spring skiing. Blue skies, sun and air temps in the 70's yielded some of the easiest skiing this season, just the way the kids like it. Carving turns in the warm sun softened snow, enjoying the warmth on the skin. A herd of mountain goats sat on the ridge above the Lenawee Mountain lift, eating the grass, watching the skiers. Took some time off to enjoy the sun from the mid mountain lodge deck, drinking a good tasting beer. After lunch in the early afternoon, it was decided to pack it up and continue on down the road. By then the snow was becoming a heavy, ski sticking slush that was becoming more difficult to plow through.




Next stop was Princeton Hot Spring near Buena Vista, on Chalk Creek at the foot of the Sawatch Range. First we found a nice camp site 10 miles up the valley, at the Iron City campground, situated among the aspen trees. The snow melt flooded Chalk Creek only 200 feet away was all one heard in the campground. Iron City was a smelter town that lived for only about 2 years. The campsite is located at the original town site and a little further down the road is a cemetery. One of the most interesting epitaphs is for Sarah and Sadie Mullens - "Born a year apart, died a day apart, buried a hand apart"


A nice dinner at the Princeton Hot Spring Hotel. The next few hours were spent soaking in the two pools that sit alongside the raging creek, one pool too hot to stay in for a long time, the second the temperature of bath water. The newly built sauna was also something to be enjoyed, assuming one could endure the steam heat for more than 5 minutes!




Sometime after 10 PM we drove the unpaved road back to camp. Mira and the kids went to the tent to play some late night cards, I took the car to a secluded location up the road where I could crank up the stereo for a couple hours. Public Image Limited was going to perform their first show in Iron City this evening.


Public Image Ltd. at the O2 Academy, Brixton, review
By Tim BurrowsPublished: 5:32PM GMT 22 Dec 2009

Thirty minutes before John Lydon was due to appear on stage with his band, the reformed Public Image Ltd (PiL), the old Academy was not even half full.

The not-quite-sold-out show had fallen victim to sustained snow showers that wreaked the usual transport havoc in and around London. Yet the empty spaces seemed somehow apt: PiL was the vehicle that set Lydon free from the claustrophobia of the Sex Pistols and his Rotten persona, to wander dark, untended territory.

The group’s first line up started work 31 years ago when they played two sell out shows at the Rainbow Theatre in Lydon’s native Finsbury Park on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, 1978. Made up of Lydon and old friends Jah Wobble and Keith Levene on bass and guitar, they filtered punk paranoia through the techniques dub reggae and disco to create a post punk sound of ambient dread.

All those Christmases ago the crowd were a hostile mass — blood ran from Lydon’s face after a full can of beer was pelted at him. Not this time: “You are very quiet, London,” he said in his familiarly forbidding whine. “If I don’t receive applause in full and total appreciation I am never leaving this stage.” You feared Lydon might act upon this threat as he ploughed through a set that lasted over two hours, punctuating gaps between songs by glugging brandy from a bottle and showering it over the floor of the stage jet-like from his mouth.

Despite the legacy Lydon left to fashion, still evident today in his now traditional shock of hair and checked shirt and trousers, you could never accuse him of pandering to style over content. So it all went in. Tracks cherished by musos such as Death Disco, surely one of the only dancefloor-fillers around on the subject of terminal cancer, rubbed shoulders with later material such as the cheesey gospel rock of Disappointed.

Surprisingly, the finest moments came from PiL’s most difficult album, the paranoid Flowers of Romance. Both Four Enclosed Walls and the title track itself showcased the force of Lydon’s primal vibrato wail, to this day one of popular music’s true wonders, which filled the air over tribal drums.

The hall had been filling up steadily throughout the gig by those affected by transport. During Religion II, a monologue denouncing faith and corruption, the bass was turned up, shaking the venue. Ending with Rise and the techno collaboration with Leftfield, Open Up, what began as a chastened affair had swelled into something much greater. Even after two hours, Lydon, energised and bug-eyed, did not want to leave the stage.


Apple long forgotten
Blackened wave sweeps mankind's shore
Spoiling our Eden


Committed to sin
Hands reaching for the darkness
Bubbles up within


Lives are extinguished
The butchers hands are grasping
Oh no, not again

Monday, May 24, 2010

MEESE: THE FINAL ACT


I was stunned to learn that what I thought was a relatively simple fix to a bumper was instead damage to the frame that made the vehicle irreparable. Both insurance company claims assessors concluded that repairing the vehicle properly would cost more than it was worth. Take the check and they scrap the truck. And yet I'm still driving it around.

After spending weekday nights looking for a replacement online, Saturday found me at dealerships looking at Toyotas and Nissans. I narrowed it down to a small number of vehicles and quickly made a decision. By mid afternoon I had purchased a used vehicle that met all my specifications. It also had a camper shell that would allow me to continue going on trips where I could sleep in the back. The perfect replacement.


Saturday night found me at the Bluebird Theater to see one of Denver's own, Meese, play their brand of alternative/indie rock before a full house. They formed in 2005 and tonight marked the end of that short time together, having announced that they were disbanding to go onto other ventures. This was their last night at the Bluebird, thanking the Denver crowd for all the support they showed all these years.


Meese calls it quits, last official show this Saturday at the Bluebird

By Dave Herrera, Tuesday, May. 18 2010 @ 7:38AM

Looks like it's the end of the road for Meese. Well sort of. This Saturday, May 22, at the Bluebird, the band will be playing its last official show -- or delivering its final Broadcast, as it were -- as Meese with the Northern Way.

After enjoying a great deal of success on the local level and burgeoning success on the national front (being listed in as one of AP's 100 Bands You Need to Know this year), followed eventually by a frustrating set back (parting ways with Atlantic Records), the Meese brothers, Patrick and Nathan, and guitarist Mike Ayars are retiring the Meese moniker and preparing to launch a brand new band with new players and all new music.

Taking a page out of Hot IQs' book, the guys are actually slated to perform two more times, once at the Colorado Rapids game on July 4 and on August 21 at Bohemian Nights in Fort Collins, but are considering the show this weekend at the Bluebird to be its last proper show.


Local Churchill and The Northern Way opened the show this evening. Meese put on a great performance. I stood right up front and got to watch them perform, right down to individual finger movements. What was even more interesting was watching facial expressions, knowing that when Partick Meese comes back to play again, it will probably be with new faces standing besides him. He came out into the lobby afterwards to meet and thank his fans, signing autographs. As his "moustached friend standing in the front row," I thanked him for a great show and asked that he continue making the music.


Boiling hatred seethes
Suit hides the lurking caveman
Drinks tea at parties


They join the Army
Lured by fun and adventure
Until they glimpse death


Crests the breaking wave
Left drained in the foaming wash
Takes another PiL


After the show I headed back to the new truck, turned it west and drove into the mountains, stopping around 2AM after crossing over Loveland Pass, finding a quiet spot alongside the road surrounded by snow capped peaks. At 12,000 feet, sleeping is never deep or restful. I was initiating the truck for the adventures I hope it will take me in the future.


The next morning I drove the remaining two miles to Arapahoe Basin for some late season skiing. Breakfast in the lodge, carving turns by 9AM. A beautiful sunny day, the snow softening up into butter for some fine carving. The strong wind rocked the chair lift and pelted people with ice on the mountain top. I departed by early afternoon to avoid the inevitable slush. Smooth sailing on the highway. At least another month of skiing is still available.


Our swimming in debt
Chinese financial buyout
Modern day red scare


Sheep graze contently
See the swaying trees shadow
Timid flock scatters


There is nothing else
Center of our attention
Speck in the night sky




Download the Meese show here:

Sunday, May 16, 2010

WELCOME TO GLASGOW


Friday afternoon finds me on the highway heading home after an interesting week at work. Rush hour yields stop and go traffic. While stopping because of slowing traffic before me, the inattentive driver behind me wakes up and steps on the gas instead of the break pedal. BOOM! Not only am I struck from behind, I'm also pushed into the vehicle in front of me. Front and rear fender and tail gate are messed up, but I believe it is all repairable. More of a hassle than anything else. Some decisions need to be made in the next few days on who will perform that repair. Before the accident I was intending to stop at Second Spin to purchase a ticket to see The English Beat for this coming July, but passed on that opportunity. Had I stopped, this incident would never have happened.


Saturday finds me beginning the summer house renovation season: ripping drywall around a pair of windows off for the purpose of getting some accurate measurements. A trip to Home Depot results in the purchase of 6 windows and one door. The cost to me, well, OUCH! This work will complete the house siding project that I began 3 years ago, as well as the renovation of the room interior at the very top of the house. I like to believe this will be a quick project, but that never proves to be the case. I'm hoping, at the most, I will have part of the summer to do some fun things with the family.


Saturday night found me outside playing CDs on the truck stereo. A pattern is forming here. First up was Public Image Limited, Welcome to Glasgow, a Radio Clyde FM Broadcast from The Barrowlands in Glasgow on May 14, 1986 (24 years ago almost to the day!) and a few tracks from a BBC Radio Session at Maida Vale Studios in London on February 25, 1992. Great sounding recording. John Lydon reprimands the crowd, telling them not to spit, that was a thing of the past, don't do it. The 79 minute recording set me up for what followed.










Download it here:





PiL was immediately followed by Echo & The Bunnymen performing live at Tut's Chicago on April 12, 1981. A very good performance by a young band on the rise to stardom. Ian was somewhat chatty and offered several compliments to the city they were performing in.


While listening to the music I could not help but compare their performance back then with what I've been hearing now. Excluding Ian, I think the band does a better job today than how they performed in the past: maturity and decades of practice have yielded a very polished sound. Will sounds as good as ever. Naturally, Ian's voice shows some wear, but overall it still sounds pretty good, at least during the shows I attended. Everyone has aged over the years and perhaps our expectations have changed with time, leading to the complaints on how the band is performing these days (singing and song writing). I think they are doing the best they can with what they've got, our expectations a little to high. I'm very pleased with what I'm hearing.


I picked this early recording to remind myself of some of their early songs. The band is scheduled to begin their Crocodiles and Heaven Up Here tour in the UK this coming December during which they will perform songs never/rarely played over the last decade or longer. Yes, the thought of going has again entered my mind, to gnaw on me until the desired outcome is decided upon. I bought a ticket to their December 12th show in Liverpool, "just in case" I change my mind. I'm on that slippery slope again.


After listening to the music, I went inside and watched a pair of DVDs given to me by Steve, one on the subject of Eric's music club in Liverpool and a second on the Liverpool music scene at the time Eric's was hosting a myriad of bands that sprang up at the time, including the Sex Pistols (with Johnny "Rotten" Lydon) and the Bunnymen. These were taped right off the TV. I found the commercials to be just as interesting, seeing a slice of what British television is like.