Will Work 4 Gig by Ballantine Communications

art entertainment food drink music nightlife Thursday, December 10, 2015

DGO

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Five cre atives d iscuss w and the orking f need fo or free r a cultu arts and re that v artists w alues th ho value e themsel ves

Also: Loving and hating the Arc of History, Oatie Paste, White Elephant gifts, sex classes, and what to do about fur

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DGO Magazine

Staff

What’s inside Volume 1 Number 7

December 10, 2015

Chief Executive Officer Douglas Bennett V.P. of Finance and Operations Bob Ganley V.P. of Advertising David Habrat V.P. of Marketing Kricket Lewis Founding Editors Amy Maestas David Holub Katie Klingsporn Editor/ designer/ art director David Holub dholub@bcimedia.com 375-4551 Contributors Jaime Becktel Jeanne Costello

12 Compensating creativity We spoke to five Durangoans working in creative fields about various aspects of being compensated. They spoke about why we should value art and artists in the first place, when it makes sense to work for free, how artists need to value their own work and time, and how we can go about making things better for working artists.

Christopher Gallagher Sara Knight Bryant Liggett Heather Narwid Cyle Talley Jon E. Lynch Robert Alan Wendeborn Ryan Yaseen Advertising 247-3504 Reader Services 375-4570

DGO Magazine is published by Ballantine Communications Inc., P.O. Drawer A, Durango, CO 81302

11 Get Smart about White Elephant gifts Dreading your office Christmas party? Totally flummoxed over what to bring to the White Elephant gift exchange? Let Anna Rousseau, Geoff Johnson and Chip Johnson from Durango DOT Comedy offer their proven strategies for choosing the perfect White Elephant gift.

Tell us what you think! Got something on your mind? Have a joke or a story idea or just something that the world needs to know? Send everything to editor@dgomag.com

18 Sensual sex class goes beyond bananas and blushing When I saw an ad in the paper: “Free sex classes Sunday at 6:30,” I first pictured a circle of desperate women sitting around putting condoms on bananas and one lonely dude just staring. And then I wondered, could it really be that bad?

From the Editor

Love it or Hate it

Beer

Weed

Seeing Through the Smoke 6

Strain of the week

High-ass recipes 7 8

Sound

Downtown Lowdown

Album Review 9 16 Movies

19 Style Fetish: What to do about fur?

17 Savage Love

The question facing this chilly vintage clothing store owner is: What can we do with vintage fur now? What to do with (yet another) natural material whose procurement involved the sudden death of something cute?

/dgomag

19 Pages 20 Student Life 21 Happening 23 Horoscope/ puzzles/ Bizarro

/dgomag @dgo_mag

On the cover Sometimes getting work in a creative field is the easy part. Getting paid, however, can be another story. Illustration by David Holub/DGO

@dg

[CTRL-A]

[love it or hate it]

David Holub |DGO editor

A masquerading rock star who gives away his art

ver the course of interviewing people for a story this week, I found myself in a boot repair shop – buffers churning and whirring, hammers and pins tinkering – talking to two artists. Thank god one of them was Mervin Stilson. The first time I met Merv I thought he was a rock star. And I don’t mean rock star in the way we refer to people we know who we enthusiastically admire. I mean, I thought he was an aged, legendary, retired, cigarettedangling-from-his-mouth-as-he-ownshis-guitar-onstage rock ’n’ roller. Upon meeting, there were a number of things that made me think he’d made loads of cash playing to stadium crowds in the late ’70s. He always had stylish pants and a pricey three-season jacket. His dark gray hair, to his shoulders and over his ears, was hip and gutsy in that way only musicians and movie stars can pull off. His raspy voice and weathered face suggested some serious living. But it was his shoes that always struck me: classy, expense-looking, distinct, out of the ordinary. I can’t account for all the other characteristics, but the reason he is always wearing such captivating footwear? He makes them himself. And he’s really good. The shoes I’ve seen on Merv range from playful and whimsical – incorporating, say, repurposed yoga mats – to full-on Mad Max boots to his knees. If you hang around Merv long enough, you start to notice many of his friends are also walking around with shoes just as intriguing. Even a traditional wingtip style, from Merv they look ever stout and precise, the leatherwork impeccable. And there’s always a subtle stylistic twist thrown in somewhere, a signature of sorts. Further amazing: The shoes he designs and handcrafts are valued well into the hundreds of dollars (if that’s your thing), and he often disregards payment. He might want the cost of the materials covered, but the imagi-

nation, the expertise, the creativity, the craftsmanship and the love, that’s all on Merv, making for free. Of course, Merv has a day job repairing shoes and boots at a shop that operates on word of mouth and has a six-week backup. He’s not living off the art or the shoes he makes. “I’m in a situation where I can make a pair of shoes for someone because she’s a pretty lady,” he said. “I could make a pair of shoes because they’re my friend. I don’t need the money ... but I need to make.” The shoes Merv gives to friends and admirees deal in a different currency than when you go into a shoe store. “It’s a connection between me and the person I’m making the shoes for,” he said. “And it’s the antithesis of the stuff you can buy at Payless. It’s a longer lasting product, it’s a more personal product. It’s not thousands and thousands and thousands of shoes being made.” For sure, there’s a distinction he makes between his work (repairing) and his art (making). The former he will absolutely charge for every time. “The stuff that I don’t like to do, I want to get paid for it,” Merv said. “Doing boot repair is work. I don’t feel like I need to get paid for what I’m having fun doing. Because I’d do it if I got paid or not.” Anyone who knows Merv knows how far he goes as a person beyond what he can build with his hands and mind. Offering his brilliance for next to nothing is his essence. Having gotten to know Merv a bit over the past couple years, the size of his heart, his wildly inventive wearable art, his intellect and wisdom are palpable. Many of the shoes Merv makes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen, and Merv the person is the same. He gives away his shoes because the currency he is dealing in, and always deals in, is love and passion. A rock star indeed. David Holub is the editor for DGO. dholub@bcimedia.com

The Arc of History Love it They called it eyesore, an embarrassment, an abomination. Some said it looked like a croissant or dinosaur excrement or nothing at all. Many said it didn’t represent them or this town. These are the precise reasons I love the Arc of History and non-representational or abstract art of many kinds. Does the world need another cowboy on a horse? Or a sculpture of an elk? Because when anyone sees a sculpture of a cowboy on a horse, everyone sees the same unchallenging thing. Many times people see non-representational art and are left unsatisfied or, worse yet, viscerally angry. Because it doesn’t look like anything. But does everything need to be so obvious, something we’ve seen before, handed to us for thoughtless consumption? That’s the beauty of the Arc of History. It is evocative. We as viewers, as unique individuals, get to decide what this piece means to us and what it looks like to us, what it reminds us of, where it takes us. On a certain day or in certain light, depending on your mood or a whim, it might look different or mean something different. But those differences belong to each of us and are determined by the openness we arrive with. No one is going to tell you what the Arc of History means or what it is supposed to be, because it doesn’t inherently mean anything and it doesn’t quantifiably resemble anything. Those meanings and evocations are up to each of us. Sometimes beauty and wonder and mystique take finding. — David Holub

Hate it The first time I saw The Arc of History I thought, “What in the bloody hell is that?” Surely, there must have been an error. The sculpture installation guys must have grown confused and instead of placing such a modern abstraction on the lawn of the Smiley Building, they erroneously affixed it to Durango’s most pivotal intersection. Please understand, I dig art and sculpture and the abstract and creative irony, and I’m definitely NOT a fan of the destruction of property. All I’m saying is that I pay attention to brand recognition and to me, a poopish arc of rocks resembling the wormlike creatures from “Tremors” doesn’t really convey the essence of “Historic Durango.” When some mischievous scallywag put the head of a tyrannosaur on the arc I felt immediate relief. “Oh, thank heavens, it wasn’t finished after all! It’s going to be a DINOSAUR!!!!” But alas, no. The dino head was removed and there the Arc of History remains ... minus a few teeth. No disrespect to Pennsylvania artist Tom Holmes, but perhaps the $28K spent on his sculpture would have been better allocated toward supporting a local Durango sculptor like Miki Harder, or SW Colorado sculptor Veryl Goodnight, or even a regional Four Corners sculptor like Edward J. Fraughton of Utah to create something a bit more culturally, historically and aesthetically relevant. Instead, on my morning commute to town I’m greeted by the random, giant carnivorous Graboid from “Tremors.” Please bring back my T-Rex. Amen. — Jaime Becktel

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[beer]

First Draughts | Robert Alan Wendeborn

Illustration by David Holub/DGO

The creation of beer: From nasty bread-goo to frothy, foamy

t’s easy to take our food and drink for granted. Take cheese, for example. Hardly anyone is milking their own cow and all those times you waited too long to finish your milk: Yep, that’s a step in making cheese, too. It’s so weird and kinda gross, but man, cheese is so good and I’m so glad someone is doing all that work for me. Pretty much everything we eat and drink has a messy process getting from the field, forest, farm, hive or whatever into our glasses or onto our plates. Working with beer, I know this to be true, and I can only imagine the same with other food and drink. And imagining the processes it took to develop our food, especially beer, from the messy pre-industrial/prescientific product it has become is even harder to imagine. The very first beer recipe is also a poem (yeah, this is totally my jam) to the Sumerian goddess, Ninkasi. Because it’s 4,000 years old, and because of the poetic language, the recipe is not entirely straightforward. Basi-

cally you make a really large, hard, dense loaf of bread, called bappir, made from barley, honey and dates. These loaves of bread were typically stored, and when you wanted to make beer, you’d take a loaf of bappir, put it in a jug, then add water and wait for it to turn into alcohol. It was then drunk with a straw so you didn’t get any of the weird floaties in your mouth. Yum. Now, anyone who homebrews or works in a brewery will tell you, this is a gnarly looking and smelling thing. Most of the time when we see frothy, foamy, bubbly stuff growing in our fridge, we throw it out, pot and all. But somewhere, sometime, some brave soul decided to drink an old rotting pot of soaking wet bread-goo. I imagine people drank the scummed-up barley juice because of a dare or out of desperation or both: Mesopotamian Bro #1: I’m so hungry I could eat a whole turtle. (Yes, the Mesopotamians ate turtles.) Mesopotamian Bro #2: Dude, all I’ve got is this jar of nasty old bread. It smells funky and it got real wet. Actu-

ally, [shakes jar of decaying sludge] it’s just slimy ooze. I dare you to drink it. »» Mesopotamian Bro #1: What do I get if I do? »» Mesopotamian Bro #2: You get to keep the jar, but only if you drink the whole thing. »» Mesopotamian Bro #1: Deal! 20 minutes later … »» Mesopotamian Bro #1: Dude, I’m so messed up. I think the gods are talking to me! That giddy joy from drinking a jug or two of festering bread-water was just too good to ignore, so the Mesopotamians started making tons of beer and thanked the goddess Ninkasi for it. And the rest is history! No! There are still so many little miracles that have happened along the way – malting, hopping, yeast cropping, pitching – that gave us the basics of contemporary brewing. All of these things I’d say are miracles as opposed to science, because hey, human beings figured out how to do all of these amazing things without

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science, which still needed to be invented. Yes, we figured out beer before we figured out how to make metal. We figured out beer before we had money, glass, negative numbers or even the number zero. We figured out beer before we figured out that the sun was the center of the solar system, and we figured out beer before we figured out gravity, for crying out loud! So, next time you’re enjoying a glass of something cold and fermented, make a toast: To Ninkasi who holds with both hands the great sweet wort, when you pour out the beer, it’s like the Animas, at 6,000 CFS. Robert Alan Wendeborn puts the bubbles in the beer at Ska Brewing Co. His first book of poetry, The Blank Target, was published this past spring by The Lettered Streets Press and is available at Maria’s Bookshop. robbie@skabrewing.com

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[ weed ] Seeing Through the Smoke Christopher Gallagher

Now that I think about it, it’s OK to be a stoner

f having a weekly deadline for this column has done anything for lil ol’ me, it has caused me to preserve and to look more closely at the thoughts that float through my head. I am a stoner and, apparently, a bit of a goofball; I offer the following group of thoughts for your investigation: »» Did David Bowie invent the mullet? »» How tall is tall? »» What tax bracket did I used to be in? »» Hey, that cop’s lights look like the French flag! »» Who, exactly, drives around with anatomically realistic testicles hanging from their trailer hitch? (Just to up the ante, this particular pair was that shade of blue that seems not to actually exist in nature, but only appears on the uniforms of minor league sports teams.) »» If I were a dog, I wonder what kind of dog I would be. »» Where can I get soft serve before nine in the morning? To clarify, these gems popped into my head first thing on a Tuesday

morning, sober as a judge, and the only law breached involved the process of typing them into my phone. (There was, sadly, no ice cream had that day.) When I was about 20 I was doing a pretty solid One Step Forward, Two Steps Back. I realized that attempting to influence my thoughts in a calmer, more peaceful direction could be a worthwhile long-term project, so I borrowed a book about meditation from my girlfriend’s father. The method described in this particular treatise involved repeatedly counting from one to four. One, two, three, four ... One, two, three, four ... The author advised gently recognizing thoughts as they’d occur and letting them pass. One, two, three, four ... I don’t know how much this helped me at the time, but it was a wonderful method to fall asleep, especially during bus rides home to see my girlfriend. A couple decades down the line, having learned a thing or two about operating a brain that keeps a solid two-and-a-half-dozen tabs open at all times, I love that I have the option of ingesting a plant that will allow me to get to a familiar neighborhood of the mind. Some “high-lights” (You like that, huh?) from the past weekend of visiting friends home for the holidays: 1) One binger: “Alright, alright”; not quite Dave Wooderson, but I’m cool with the comparison. 2) A quarter of a joint (shared with two friends plus a dude who someone kind of knows): pattern recognition, hear-

ing music, thinking it’s probably real music, swaying. 3) Live resin dab taken from Rooster’s lovely scissor hash: As Bizzle said, “Decide how long you wanna be talking to yourself too much” – my professional advice: start small. 4) Half a blunt (blunts seem to deliver the same high whether they’re filled with kind bud or the seediest, stemmiest brick; it’s like some miracle of physics): Huuuuuuuhhh??? Did you say something about Bill Nye and consciousness? The common denominator between these altered states? I’m well within my mind. I can still do stuff. Have I delivered any babies recently? No, but I haven’t answered any calls from unknown numbers, either. The media and pop culture loves to portray stoners as unmotivated and underintelligent, but, lest we forget, our boy James Franco was busy attending Yale for postgraduate literature around the time he was filming “Pineapple Express.” That’s the face we should present to America – smart, sweet and maybe a little silly. Embrace the stoned this week, DGO, and thank me when we meet again. Christopher Gallagher lives with his wife and their four dogs and two horses. Life is pretty darn good.

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[ strain of the week]

[ high-ass recipes ]

Bomb Diggity Popped Corn You don’t have to be high to enjoy this ... but it sure doesn’t hurt

Durban Poison What is it? No mystery here. Durban Poison is named after South Africa’s port city of Durban, where it’s been smuggled out of for decades. It’s a pure subtropical sativa with soaring cerebral high. It’s the backbone of many modern hybrids because of its fast flowering time, healthy yields and amazing trichome production. The effects You’ll instantly notice an intense euphoria followed by an energetic and clear-minded lift that lasts up to three hours. Described as the espresso of cannabis, this African queen will physically and mentally energize you without the paranoia of some of the less-balanced modern sativa crosses.

At the movies, I will straight up slay a tub of GMO-grade kernels slathered in palm oil, high fructose corn syrup and artificial flavors, worshiping every pudgy grub-full of that low-grade garbage. At home, however, I like my popcorn gourmet, so here are four bomb-diggity recipes to make your high ass grin with pure glee.

want to raid a box of macaroni and cheese for the powdered cheese packet), ¼ tsp. fresh ground pepper

Directions:

What you need: 2/3 cup of popping corn (aim for non-GMO and preferably organic. What’s the matter with you?!)

DGO staff

»» Bomb diggity popped corn, Poorman’s Cheese option.

¼ cup of coconut oil (if you’re a fatty like me, you can also add 1 tablespoon butter) 1 tsp. salt (if you’re a salty dog like me, you’ll prolly want more) 2 tablespoons honey or agave nectar

¼ tsp. fresh ground pepper, ½ tsp. cumin 2. The Darjeerling Limited: ½ tsp. curry, ¼ tsp. fresh ground pepper 3. Cinnamon Toasted: ½ tsp. cinnamon, 1 tsp. sugar

Spices, spices, spices!!!

Spice combinations: 1. Nacho Libre: ¼ tsp cayenne pepper,

4. Poorman’s Cheese: 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese (unless you

I ain’t no scientist when it comes to the chemistry of poppin’ corn, but I’ve developed a method that mostly seems to work. Get yourself a pan with a lid, turn up the heat to medium/low and drop in the coconut oil. When it’s melted, add a couple of kernels to test the temp. As soon as those brave little soldiers pop, add the remaining kernels, hold the lid tight and shake until they’re all fully coated in oil. Once all are puffed and popped, turn off the heat, add salt and spices, drizzle with honey or agave nectar and shake, shake, shake to ensure maximum flavor distribution. Taste, adjust, devour. Serves 1 — Jaime Becktel

The smell Durban gives off a verity of smells like licorice and citrus, but its most prominent odor is that of pine sap with a little spice and fruit mixed in. The look Saturated crystals make this a phenomenal hash maker with dense, elongated buds covered in light green leaves and bright orange follicles. Because Durban is the ancestor of so many newer hybrids, you’ll instantly recognize the spicy inhale and a more grapefruit exhale. The final verdict Don’t buy this in Durango because I want it all to myself. Just a few hits gets you right. It’s the only sativa I can honestly say gave me energy without icing my brain. It’s a functional high that will relax you, keep you happy and make you think like Stephen Hawking on too much caffeine. It’s good for appetite, migraines, nausea, peripheral nerve pain and getting you pleasantly adjusted.

216209

The taste

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THURSDAY 12/3 Holiday Market 5-8pm Gifts made by local artists $3 Pints and Ladies night Open Mic Night 8pm FRIDAY 12/4 Oatie Paste SATURDAY 12/5 Mr. F

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�� Thursday, December 10, 2015 | 7

[sound]

Downtown Lowdown | Bryant Liggett

Courtesy of Oatie Paste

Ska band Oatie Paste still finding crowds here

urango’s love affair with ska is certainly no secret, with its biggest ska export being the product of a brewery named after the horn-heavy music highly influenced by reggae and punk rock. But it’s also a genre of music, one with a dedicated audience prone to a more aggressive sound that may or may not let the consumption of beer aid in the good-time soundtrack it provides. While Durango’s diverse catalog of bands that exist now or in years past may not be ska- or punk-heavy, there’s been enough to jar memories from random shows or KDUR Cover Nights. Oatie Paste is one, the band that formed in 2007 and quickly made a local name for themselves with shows at just about every venue in town. Oatie Paste will host its album release party Friday at the Balcony Backstage. Performing also is local ska band Busters Ghost and Shiprock, New Mexico, punk band End This Year. Oatie Paste is Tim Wenger on guitar and vocals, Brandon French on

trombone and vocals, Scott Fowler on bass and vocals and Chad Howard on drums. “10 Seconds Till Sunday” is a strong release. Albeit short, the opening/ title track gets right to a blatant point of melodic aggression, which rips through four songs, influenced by Third Wave ska bands, but also taking a cue from early punk bands like The Descendents. Their history is reflective of the list of the too-many-to-count bands working to make it; after knocking around Durango for a few years, the band moved to Denver, eager to let a larger market dictate the “next-step.” The entertainment industry, whether you’re a musician, comedian or actor is nothing more than a crap-shoot with hard work and dedication to your craft only rewarding a small percentage of those trying to break into the industry. Denver wasn’t the best thing for Oatie Paste. Three members came back here, and Wenger stayed on the Front Range. “Being able to have Durango as a home-base has worked out for us

better in the long run,” said Wenger in a recent phone interview. “We can easily go somewhere and have Durango be our flagship, and people will want to talk to us about the town, and they’re surprised there’s a band from Durango playing outside of Durango.” There’s nothing wrong with being a Durango band and having this as your stomping and creative ground. The idiots who moan about there being no music here either don’t make music themselves or don’t get their stonedasses off the couch to go see something. Oatie Paste may have scaled back the number of shows they play, but they continue to find a crowd here. “Durango is super supportive. We always were able to play to a good crowd. Even eight years later, every time we come there we can count on our friends coming out,” Wenger said. “It’s a really supportive town. Being able to be a musician from Durango is something special.”

Bryant’s best Thursday: New-grass and country rock with Grant Farm, 9 p.m. $10. Animas City Theatre, 128 E. College Drive. Information: 799-2281. Friday: Ska music with Oatie Paste and Busters Ghost, End This Year, 9 p.m. No cover. The Balcony Backstage, 600 Main Ave. upstairs. Information: 764-4083.

New at Southwest Sound New releases for Dec. 11 »»August Alsina, “This Thing Called Life” »»R Kelly, “Buffet” »»Cam, “Untamed” »»Withered Bones, “For The Ones I Love” »»Enterprise Earth, “Patient 0”

Bryant Liggett is a freelance writer and KDUR station manager. liggett_b@fortlewis.edu.

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