art entertainment food drink music nightlife Thursday, April 6, 2017
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WHEN ANIMALS GET
DRUNK Squirrels, bears, elephants, hamsters, and many other animals have been known to get knackered. We offer 11 examples of wildlife getting wild.
Also: Why poetry ain’t boring, Hoovfest, and how Planned Parenthood felt like a war zone
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Original art by Maureen May
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DGO Magazine
STAFF
What’s inside Volume 2 Number 24
April 6, 2017
Chief Executive Officer
16 We’ve come a long way to get to today’s strain-o-copia
Douglas Bennett V.P. of Finance and Operations
We start looking at some of the great strains in cannabis history and the genetics that anchor the breeding programs behind some of the great varieties available now.
Bob Ganley V.P. of Advertising David Habrat V.P. of Marketing Kricket Lewis Founding Editors David Holub
17 Going to Planned Parenthood feels like a battle zone
Editor/ creative director David Holub dholub@bcimedia.com 375-4551 Staff writer Patty Templeton ptempleton@bcimedia.com Contributors Christopher Gallagher Alexi Grojean Bryant Liggett Jon E. Lynch Roldo Cooper Stapleton Cyle Talley Robert Alan Wendeborn
From the Editor
4
Love it or Hate it
5
Vintage Durango
8
Sound
Downtown Lowdown
6
Poetry ain’t boring It’s not that all poetry is created equal or that every poet is a genius or gorgeous freak. But there are poems out there that will break your heart in a beautiful way you ain’t never felt before.
There’s nothing abnormal or erroneous with me having an appointment on my lunch break to renew my birth control prescription, but why should I have to talk about that with cops?
10 Beer 16 Weed
Reader Services 375-4570
DGO is a free weekly publication distributed by Ballantine Communications Inc., and is available for one copy per person. Taking more than five copies of an edition from a distribution location is illegal and is punishable by law according to Colorado Revised Statute 18-9-314.
Seeing Through 16 the Smoke
18 Savage Love 19 Happening 20 DGO Deals 22 Horoscope/ puzzles 22 Pages
23 First Person: On living in the moment
23 First Person
Cyle Talley tells Durango’s stories, in their own words.
Advertising 247-3504
8
Album Reviews 9
Amy Maestas
Katie Cahill
4
/dgomag 10 With these brews, booze, and memories, it’s the music that lingers For the most part, my memories of drinking don’t often revolve around the actual booze I’m drinking. More often it’s the people, the setting, and the sounds.
Tell us what you think!
/dgomag
@dgo_mag
ON THE COVER Is it a giant bottle of beer, or a tiny bear? Either way, someone is about to get rather sloppy. David Holub/DGO
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
DGO Magazine is published by Ballantine Communications Inc., P.O. Drawer A, Durango, CO 81302
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@dg
dg
[ love it or hate it ]
[CTRL-A]
Doing the dishes
David Holub |DGO editor
Love it
A story about the coolest kid I ever knew
N
eurologists say our sense of smell is the sense most strongly linked with memory. And when the ladyfriend showed up the other night with Trader Joe’s Antiplaque Toothpaste with Fennel, Propolis & Myrrh on her breath, which tastes and smells disgustingly similar to licorice, my memory went straight to first grade, eating Good & Plenty in my elementary school gym watching “Bambi” and sitting next to Wade Lewis. “Wade Lewis!” I shrieked to the ladyfriend. “I have to tell you my Wade Lewis story.” Then, 33 years after it happened, I told my Wade Lewis story for the first time. And the details kept coming and coming. First, I told her, you must understand who Wade Lewis was. Wade Lewis had an enviable aloofness, a chiseled jaw, and cartoon-blond hair, kept wavy and flowing by the comb he often carried in his back pocket. He took taekwondo lessons and wore a Members Only jacket before anyone else and pushed the sleeves to his elbows. A gentleman of few words, he had smoky blue eyes, and this squint – a 3-mile squint – and seemed like he’d be better suited on a dusty desert road standing by his ’60s T-Bird smoking, with a girl under his arm. Wade Lewis was easily the coolest kid in Ms. Cordova’s first-grade class – probably the coolest kid in the world. To this day, he’s easily the coolest person I’ve ever known. He was the kind of guy men wanted to be and women wanted to be with. And he was 6. To illustrate Wade Lewis’ coolness, I give you the following side-story: Through a connection of Ms. Cordova’s, the field goal kicker for the Denver Broncos, Rich Karlis – best known for kicking barefoot, was supposed to come and say a few words to our school (my school was in a suburb of Denver). So we all headed to the gym, seated on the floor in rows, waiting patiently, talking among ourselves. After some time, after Karlis was supposed to have arrived, a teacher walked out and said Karlis was running late. More time passed – was it 15 minutes? 30? An hour? – and the teacher came back out and said Karlis was en route and he’d be here any minute. We go back to our conversations. After much more time had passed, the teacher returned and said Rich Karlis would not be coming, and we headed back to our classrooms, confused more than anything, wondering if Karlis had any intention to come in the first place. To make it up, since he apparently knew Ms. Cordova, he sent a commemorative Broncos patch to our class. I could only see it from afar, but this patch looked expensive. There was just one problem: There was only one patch and about 20 kids in our class. Who would get it? It could belong to the class. Ms. Cordova could hang it for all to see. But Ms. Cordova – she was young, and I recall it being her first year teaching – had a better plan, doing the most sensible thing conceivable: She went around the classroom and made each student say – out loud, in front of everyone – who should get
the patch. Horrifying in hindsight, we went around and cast our votes aloud. And one by one, the tally mounted: “Wade! ... Wade ... Wade!” Both boys and girls, some exclaiming his name like they were enthusiastically endorsing a product with thumbs up: “Wade!” He won the patch with 98 percent of the vote, and I grumbled to myself that Wade didn’t even like football, not as much as me at least. I was friends with Wade, but more so, I had a special in: Our older brothers, fifth-graders then, were friends, too. One time, my brother and I spent the night over at the Lewis’, and the only memory from that night was thinking Wade, at 6, was much, much cooler than his 10-year-old bespectacled brother. “How is this possible?” I recall thinking. Which brought me back to the Good & Plenty and “Bambi” and the gymnasium. A snack table had been set up in the back with Wade and me in line for candy. Wade went first and ordered a cardboard box of Good & Plenty. Accompanying the coolest 6-year-old in the world, I witnessed his order, never having heard of or tasted Good & Plenty, and thought, “If it’s good enough for Wade Lewis, it’s good enough for me.” Wade and I found our seats on the gymnasium floor and tore into our Good & Plentys. I took one bite and my face contorted tasting the most disgusting candy I’d had before or since. “Wade Lewis might be incredibly cool,” I remember thinking, “but his candy choice suuuucks!” I left the 98-percent-full box of candy on the gymnasium floor, never giving Wade my assessment. I don’t know what ever happened to Wade Lewis after that; his family moved away after first grade and I moved up a rung on the popularity ladder. In the days after I told this story, I began looking for Wade Lewis online, combing Facebook and LinkedIn profiles, one Google search after another with a wide net of search terms. I looked at picture after picture with only a memory of an incredibly cool 6-year-old boy in my head. What was I looking for exactly? I caught myself after a while gravitating exclusively to men who looked like male models: stylish clothes, chiseled jaws, smoky blue eyes, 3-mile squints. But Wade could have been the portly, balding fella in the sleeveless T. Thirty-three years is a long time, and what if Wade’s coolness peaked at 6? I suppose that’s why high school reunions can be so fascinating, all the people you knew who clearly peaked at 18. The cheerleaders you remember being so stuck up, the popular kids and their cliques, the cocky football players who seemed to get everything, all showing up overweight with seven kids working dead-end jobs. Or possibly worse: Utterly boring. The things that got you ahead when you were 6 or 18 aren’t necessarily the ones that will propel you in life. Wade Lewis was universally adored by all, but more, he was nice for a 6-year-old, a real man of the people. But Good & Plenty? That kid knew nothing.
I enjoy being tidy. I keep my work desk clear, my car clean, my bed made, my counters wiped down. If my spaces aren’t wide and open, my mind gets weighed down. A sinkful of dishes makes me tense. My cooking process includes washing up as I go. I think dishwashers are magical. The world is full of complicated decisions and moments that are wildly out of my control. I find solace in daily tasks that show immediate results and heighten my sense of self-mastery. Simple tasks get me to slow down. To be mindful. Something like the dishes can become a stress-reliever by listening to a podcast while doing them. Or just simply by noticing the warm water, thinking of the stories behind the objects in my hands, being appreciative that I have a sink to stand in front of that is in an apartment that is warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Dishes give me a period of reflection that I wouldn’t otherwise take time out a day to access. —— Patty Templeton
Hate it In the 19 years since I turned 20, I divide the time between the years I had a dishwasher and the years I didn’t. It’s not hard to remember because the six years I didn’t have a dishwasher actually lasted about 14 years. If there’s one chore I hate most, it’s washing dishes. Seeing any kind of food – but, gawd, scrambled eggs especially – floating in murky water can literally induce vomiting. Feeling any kind of food unseen beneath brown, soapy wastewater can make me gag and squirm. I’m normally just a garden-variety procrastinator, but when it comes to dishes, I am world-class, often letting hours and hours of dish piles accumulate on the counter, in the sink, and – gasp! – in the oven. Ever preheated an oven full of dirty dishes? I’ve stabbed myself with hidden knives, fumbled and broken glasses because of clumsy, pruned hands, and endured many an achy back from standing hunched over the sink. It’s been three years since I lacked a robot to wash my dishes for me, and I never plan on going back. —— David Holub
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[Vintage Durango]
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»» Brief article about the Grubb Refracting Telescope at the Vienna Observatory, Durango Morning Herald July 26, 1887.
When telescopes became trustworthy Today, you can buy a telescope for under a hundo that packs more power than the one Galileo used to examine the sky. You can peer at the planets with more efficacy than the man who first studied sun spots, discovered four of Jupiter’s moons, and found that Earth’s moon was a bumpy, uneven world. By the 1880s, telescopes had been around for over 200 years. People no longer worried that scientific discoveries of the heavens were a trick of the lenses. Part of this trust curve was the invention of better instruments. Completed in 1878 and displayed in The Durango Herald in 1887, The Grubb Refractor Telescope at the University of Vienna was the largest built, up till then. It was equipped with photographic apparatus that could create more exact images than previous space-mapping technology, i.e., hand-drawing. Theoretical physicist and mathematician Henri Poincare said, “Astronomy is useful because it raises us above ourselves; it is useful because it is grand.” The fabulousness of the cosmos as seen through giant telescopes became a pop culture phenomenon that wouldn’t be as deeply felt again until the space races of the 1960s. —— Patty Templeton DGO Staff Writer
From left: Dr. Joshua Spendlove, Dr. Daniel Mannas and Dr. Chris Taylor
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[pages]
Sex, rebellion, and politics:
POETRY AIN’T BORING
»» An ode to the art form for National Poetry Month Lord Byron got wine-drunk sipping from a goblet made of a human skull, often while shooting guns in his house. He had a pet bear, was the scandalous, bisexual lover of hundreds, and wrote dreamy panty-droppers like “She Walks in Beauty.” Byron’s poet pal Percy Bysshe Shelley was so hardcore that his real human heart actually calcified: A friend stole the indestructible thing from Shelley’s funeral pyre and gave it to Mary Shelley, his “Frankenstein”-writing wife. Until her death, Mary kept the heart in her desk wrapped in one of Percy’s last poems. Baudelaire wrote poems that so explicitly fingered public decency that they were »» “The Funeral of Shelley,” by Louis Édouard Fournier banned for a century. And he wasn’t the only one. Poets incessantly get banned: Gwendolyn Brooks, Walt Whitman, Sherman Alexie, Shel Silverstein, Federico García Lorca. The list keeps going. Poets get banned because they live, observe, and feel so deeply that they cause others to do the same, and that scares the hell out of authority figures. Yet, a great majority of Americans find poetry boring. Why pay attention to poets? They’re too academic. Too dry. Maybe that impression comes from being forced to read Shakespeare instead of seeing his dirty jokes on stage or the compulsory study of a poem’s line structure instead of hearing a lust-dripping recitation that made your tits hard or your balls hurt. It’s not that all poetry is created equal or that every poet is a genius or gorgeous freak. But there are poems out there that will break your heart in a beautiful way you ain’t never felt before. There are poets who have a lust for life so palpable that you’ll want to wrap your hands around it, too. »» Lord Byron
Wikipedia
Poetry as iconoclastic living Not every poem’s been made by a hooligan, but the history of poetry is populated with people a step out of sync with mainstream society. Sometimes that takes the mild shape of Charles Bukowski being a drunkass, misogynist who somehow writes the absolutely lovely, whiskey-drenched remorse of “Bluebird.” Sometimes the societal dissent is so complete it becomes criminal, like in the case of François Villon, a French poet of the Middle Ages who drunkenly daggered a priest to death. A great many poets have a layer of alienation and a fierce fabulousness because of it. Indie director Jim Jarmusch said: “I realized that poets weren’t in it for the money, they were very rebellious, they were brave, they were sensitive, and so for me they were kind of like rock stars. I still remember reading Baudelaire when I was a teenager and discovering Arthur Rimbaud, teenage genius, who stopped writing when he was 19 and revolutionized what poetry even is. Dante — people don’t realize, they think Dante was some kind of high art literary guy, you know? Dante Wikipedia
Continued on Page 7
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[pages] From Page 6
was like the Wu-Tang Clan! Dante wrote in vernacular; he wrote in what people were speaking on the street, which no one did in literature in Italian before him.”
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Nonconformist poets to try out: Kathy Acker, e.e. cummings, Justin Chin
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Poetry as romance and spread-leg sexiness Baudelaire said, “One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters. But with what? With wine, poetry, or love, as you choose. But get drunk.” And oh my gawd, when a poet gets drunk on a lover, what fine words are won. Poets have a habit of obsessing, of finding the minutia of a paramour that they want to tell the world about. Perhaps it is the soft fall of a stocking, the curve of a moonlit breast, or the parting of lips with lips. From the soft, sweet love of the 14th century, Iranian poet Hafez who wants to weave his soul into a blanket of protection for you to the moaning, master-asking words of Ginsberg being bent over a table, poets want to get you off. Why not let them?
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Wikipedia
»» Kathy Acker
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Amorous poets to try out: Sappho, Pablo Neruda, Hera Lindsay Bird
Poetry as activism Heck, it can’t be all sex and bohemian living. When poetry is done getting its rocks off, it can cause revolutions.
Wikipedia
»» Pablo Neruda
Rita Dove said, “Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.” Its economy of words creates an arrow of thought that can pierce through the mundane and cause change. From early anarchist poets, to Paul Laurence Dunbar describing the weight of a body hanging from a branch, to Jim Ferris writing, “I’m sorry – this space is reserved for poems with disabilities” – poetry has opinions. Poetry wants to make you think, make you talk, make you stand up for something. Poetry unabashedly wants to change the world. Sonia Sanchez said, “All poets, all writers, are political. They either maintain the status quo, or they say, ‘Something’s wrong, let’s change it for the better.’”
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Activist poets to try out: Diane Burns, Saul Williams, Lawrence Ferlinghetti —— Patty Templeton DGO Staff Writer
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[sound]
Downtown Lowdown | Bryant Liggett
Cinematica brings enigmatic sounds to Hoovfest at ACT
C
ut Farmington some slack. The neighbor to the south may be just a quick stop for a Target trip, or a blow-by town on to other higher-profile destinations, but it boasts some good people, and some good bands. KDUR Radio has been the recipient of some great volunteer DJs from Farmington, and more and more bands are making themselves known around Durango with local shows. One of those bands is Cinematica, an instrumental trio that is one of many bands playing “Hoovfest” on Saturday at the Animas City Theatre. Also playing are Columbyne, Signal 99, Haddenfield A.D., and Kapital Punishment, with loads of other guests. It’s likely that anyone in Farmington who picks up a guitar with the aim to use it probably knows anyone else in Farmington with the same intentions. Word gets around, musicians noodle around with each other, and new bands are born. It’s a common, glorious practice repeated in music scenes worldwide. “Everybody had been involved in different projects, and we had known each other around the scene,” said guitar player Brandon Mike. “We came together, started jamming, and it just happened. It was magical like that.” Cinematica recently released an EP called “Cherry Nova,” recorded with Doug Eagle in Durango at Eagle Sound. It’s a short, three-song effort, an ambient and atmospheric rock record reminiscent of Trans Am or El Ten Eleven.
Bryant’s best Friday: Wake Up Laughing, 9:30 p.m. No cover. The Balcony Backstage, 600 Main Ave., upstairs. Information: 422-8008. Saturday: Columbyne, Cinematica, Signal 99 and more, 7:30 p.m. $20. Animas City Theatre, 128 E. College Drive. Information: 799-2281.
There are sounds that dangle the electronic carrot even though they’re a true band (playing real instruments), and the jam-band carrot, yet it’s done so in a method void of fist-throwing or noodle dancing. It’s mellow, head-bobbing, trance-like music that works. And just when you think they may take off on some improvisational blast, they reel it back in. It’s important to have bands that make the listener work for it, to give
the music you make sparks some confusion in some and conversation in others, then somewhere along the way they’ve done the right thing. Instrumental music is great at being that catalyst. “There was no intention, it just really happened like that. There was no idea of saying, ‘Hey were going to do this as an instrumental band with no vocals.’ Sometimes you don’t have to speak,” said Mike. “I do love jazz, so it makes sense to me that I would be in a band that’s instrumental.” The “Cherry Nova” EP, as well as their sound overall, is ripe for a soundtrack. Influenced by the wideopen spaces found on the outskirts of town when leaving just about any town Courtesy of Cinematica in New Mexico, it’s bold music that’s also capable of a subtle background existence. you a product that requires thought “Being from New Mexico, we have to ingest the art. Instrumental bands a lot of scenery,” said Mike. “That’s a are like that, leaving something to major ingredient to Cinematica.” the imagination of the listener, makCinematica will be going back into ing you come up with your own idea the studio with Eagle in May to record what the song is about. You have for a full-length record, with an anticipatthose friends who listen to music in your home, or stand next to you at ed release later in 2017. a show hammering you with stupid questions. “Why are they named Bryant Liggett is a freelance writer and Cinematica?” “How come there are KDUR station manager. liggett_b@forno words?” “Is this rock music?” If tlewis.edu.
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[sound] What’s new Timber Timbre, “Sincerely, Future Pollution” Available: Friday, April 7, via City Slang Records in all the usual formats: digital download, compact disc, and standard black vinyl. Also available in limited-edition ,180-gram clear vinyl with deluxe packaging that includes a gatefold jacket, tip-on cover and foil print. Spring is pretty alright. For many reasons, of course, but for the more-than-excitable fans of the gamut of musical experience, it connotes a weekly crop of new and exciting releases. It is an obvious correlation when pointed out. Bands/artists want to release their new records in the
New at
April 7 Joey Badass,“All American Badass” One of the most promising young rappers in the game returns with his second full-length “All American Badass.” Joey Badass prides himself on having an old-school vibe, and that is evident immediately upon listening to tracks like “Rockabye Baby,” which sounds like it could’ve been lifted straight off GZA’s “Liquid Swords” or Big L’s “Lifestylez ov da Poor and Dangerous.” A lot of “All American Badass” feels like a hardline counter argument against mumble rap and the EDM-focused beats that seem to dominate the charts lately. If rap has left you with a sour taste lately, check out Joey Badass and the rest of the Pro Era crew. RIP to Capital Steez. Clan of Xymox,“Days of Black” Now here’s a name I haven’t thought about in a long time. Have you ever been listening to The Cure and thought, “Man, I wish there was more harsh electronics in this”? Do I have a surprise for you. Clan of Xymox has been doing exactly that for more than 30 years and have not slowed at all in that time. “Days of Black” is their 16th studio album and it sounds straight out of the black combover heyday all those
spring in advance of summer tours. This Friday alone is stacked with a slew of highly anticipated (well, highly anticipated by ME anyway) releases: Diet Cig, Father John Misty, Guided by Voices, Happyness, and Timber Timbre, just to name a very, very select few. For the sake of music as art and doing your part to keep your local independent record store in business, please go out and support them. Please
years ago. If Jesus and Mary Chain and Depeche Mode’s new releases over the past month didn’t scratch that itch enough for ya, then I definitely recommend “Days of Black.” It’s moody and brooding without crossing into cheesy territory that can so easily overcome music like this. Get your black platforms and your favorite grimace on and sway slightly to the tunes of Clan of Xymox.
this Friday. Present still are the unique, baritone vocals of multi-instrumentalist Taylor Kirk. His delivery and cadence have become, to me, perhaps the most recognizable sonic texture of the band, along with Mathieu Charbonneau’s approach to keyboards. Sometimes lush and dense, sometimes perfectly minimalist, but certainly their own stylistically. “Sincerely, Future Pollution” weaves heavy themes and dystopian drones into one of the year’s best records released thus far.
please please. I am begging you. I do not want to live in a town without a local record shop. Ours happens to kick ass. If you are reading this outside Durango, hopefully you, too, have a kick-ass local record store that you can support.
Recommended for fans of Morphine, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, The Black Heart Procession, 16 Horsepower, or Feast of Wire-era Calexico
SO, Timber Timbre. I stumbled on to this band somewhere around their third, self-titled LP back in 2009. The Canadian gothic/dark folk(?) outfit is releasing their sixth full-length album
—— Jon E. Lynch KDUR_PD@fortlewis.edu
steeped in emotional cliché that it loses all credibility? This is music made for beer and car commercials. It has its place, I guess, but it’s not for me. If you think you are clever for writing the lyrics “... on that mattress that you stole
from your roommate back in Boulder, we ain’t ever getting older,” you aren’t. You are lowest-common-denominator pop music. Of course, this band has a three-year performance deal in Vegas. —— Cooper Stapleton
Deep Purple,“Infinite” With the demise of Black Sabbath earlier in the year, Deep Purple is one of the few progenitors of heavy rock that remain touring in spite of themselves (drummer Ian Paice suffered a stroke last year that doesn’t seem to have hindered him). I don’t think you can like rock ’n’ roll without appreciating bands like Deep Purple. Their influence touches so many cornerstones of music today that it is a shame they are often thought as merely a band that, in high school, one pulls their first full song on guitar. “Smoke on the Water” one-shots they are not. There isn’t a whole lot of experimentation on “Infinite,” but that isn’t a bad thing. There are spacey synths, there are riffs, there is Ian Gillian still being able to sing like a madman, and some genuinely groovy songs. I loved the solos and synths on “All I Got Is You.” Check it out if you are lamenting the death of rock from earlier, if only to remind that some of the greats are still going. Chainsmokers,“Memories ... Do Not Open” You ever listen to something so
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[beer]
First Draughts | Robert Alan Wendeborn David Holub/DGO
Music lingers with these brews, booze, and memories
I
n all my days of drinking, the times that I spent zoomed in on one beverage seem like the days that are hardest to forget: »» The day my roommate and I drank three bottles of Cab Franc doing research for a Four Leaves Winery recipe. »» The New Year’s Day celebrated by my debaucherous crew and me, parked at the bar at El Rancho, drinking a never-ending supply of Miller High Life from brunch till dark. »» The All Hallow’s Day spent skinny dipping and drinking from a keg of Euphoria at the Oxbow beach along the Animas.
But for the most part, my memories of drinking don’t often revolve around the actual booze I’m drinking. More often it’s the people, the setting, and the sounds. When I was close to the end of a long shift at Ska, when I knew a cold beer was waiting for me in the tap room, I’d always put on “Don’t Let the Bastards Grind You Down,” by the Toasters. It was the perfect end to a shift at a brewery that loved ska so much they made it their name. And who were the bastards grinding me down? Of course, it was the interminable list of tanks we had to clean in Continued on Page 11
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[beer] From Page 10
the cellar. In graduate school, my colleagues and I played pool every Thursday night at My Brother’s Place (RIP), a divey pool hall near downtown Las Cruces, New Mexico. The graduate students in the art department would also go, and it was a race to the juke box. Inevitably, the art students would get there first and load the box with quarters for the whole night. It was as bad as you can imagine. I’ve blacked most of that out, but I managed to build a strong positive association with the Foo Fighters and drinking and shooting pool. To this day, I still get the smell of gin and chalk in my nostrils when I hear “Everlong,” and the lyrics themselves conjure the sense memories: “Hello, I’ve waited here for you.” Before grad school, when I was finishing undergrad and going through one of the roughest times of my life, what many would call “a dark night of the soul,” I fell in love with gin and music in a general and specific sense. I realized that I didn’t know the difference between the Beatles and The Monkees and I sought to rectify this and many other of my perceived cultural shortcomings. I spent countless summer nights sitting on my porch
reading Kerouac and Palaniuk and Zizek and used the number of limes in my glass to count the number of gin and tonics I drank. I tried to balance the musical selection with new and old and tried to just experience all kinds of new music. There was one song that I stumbled upon, “Las Cruces Jail,” by The Two Gallants. “Yeah,” I thought. “Las Cruces is a jail.” As cliché as all that is, that song is still a really good song to listen to while you drink a lot of booze and yell at stuff. These days, I rarely hear a new song that makes me want to dive into some rabble-rousing. The last time I heard a song that made me want to get a crew of people together and drink a bunch of beer and yell at each other in a bar was probably years ago. I know Kendrick Lamar gets me pumped up to drink a lot of booze, and there really is a lot of great drinking hip-hop music, but nothing is quite like rock ’n’ roll, and the Black Keys may never release a new album, so what are we going to do? I guess we just keep crackin’ cold ones with our buds, and hopefully something good will come on the radio, huh? Robert Alan Wendeborn is a former cellar operator at Ska Brewing and current lead cellar operator at Tin Roof Brewing in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
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[nature]
»» From
WASTED WILDLIFE
buzzed bees and boozy bears, to binging bats and bottoms-up birds, you’ll be amazed at how many animals get inebriated
Patty Templeton DGO STAFF WRITER
A
duck walks into a bar with a bear, a moose, and a weasel. All his friends ditch him after a round. Bartender says, “I guess the bill’s on you.” Reader, I imagine that you groaned. To make it up to you, here’s another one: Polar bear walks into a bar and says, “I’ll have a PBR ... ... ... and some peanuts.” Bartender asks, “What’s with the big pause?” Bear says, “I dunno. I’ve always had them.” OK, OK. I know. That was awful. But here, one more. It’s better, promise: Grasshopper walks into a bar. Bartender says, “We got a drink named after you.” Grasshopper says, “You got a drink named Cedric?” ::pause for more grumbling or hysterical laughter:: Animals don’t just drink in jokes. They get schlitzed in the wild, too. Though some accounts are mired in myth, it’s been proven that beasts big and small booze it up. Many times, the drunkenness is accidental, but not always. Here’s a few of the ways that party animals catch the brown bottle flu.
Most likely to puke on your mom’s patio: Squirrels Squirrels are floofy-tailed cute-monsters. They are also the animal you’re most likely to see wasted in your yard. Squirrels get trashtastic from ingesting fermented crab apples, squash, magnolia petals, and cherries. There are plenty of YouTube vids out there where the little shmoes get so funked up that they can’t even teeter up a tree. An occurrence in Worcestershire, England, proves that squirrels aren’t satisfied with only outdoor drinking. The owner of the Honeybourne Railway Club found a squirrel staggering out from behind a box of chips at his pub. In the night, the squirrel had learned to turn on the taps, gotten snockered, broke glassware, and spilled $400 of beer all over the floor. The unpredictable climber: Moose The first inebriated celebrity moose writ into history was the pet of 16th century astronomer Tycho Brahe. Brahe, who had part of his nose cut off in a mathematics-induced duel, adored his moose so much that it lived inside and dined with him. Other nobles were intrigued and the moose became a party guest at neighboring estates. Unfortunately, one evening out, the moose got so beer-blitzed, he fell down a flight of stairs to his death. ::tips a 40 in honor of Brahe’s moose:: Sweden and Norway have a plethora of hooved friends who get hammered every autumn after eating fallen, fermented apples. In recent years, addled moose have been stuck in trees, had threesomes in public, destroyed playgrounds, and invaded shoe shops. The public say the moose are drunk. Scientists say that the only thing they’re sure of is there has to be a better explanation than that. Always has to go to the ER: Birds Heather is the gal who weighs 90 pounds and insists on drinking like she’s a sumo-sized biker. Heather always ends up using a pizza slice as a pillow or going to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. Bohemian waxwings are the Heathers of the wildwood. In fact, you can’t only blame waxwings on ruining the party, many birds get shmammered. Which sounds kind of adorable: Wobbly birds pecking berries that have been fermenting all winter long, but the poor dears have one berry too many and their flying in circles turns Continued on Page 14
Alexi Grojean/Special to DGO
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�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� Thursday, April 6, 2017 | 13
[nature] From Page 13
to WHAP! Collision with a wall. Night ruined. Heather-friend has to go to the hospital ... again. Stupid rowan berries. Jerk who never brings a six-pack to the party: Vervet monkeys St. Kitts is a Caribbean island with gorgeous beachfronts and bold monkeys. The Vervet monkey came to St. Kitts about 300 years ago and developed an ethanol interest through eating fermented sugar cane left in rum industry fields. Fast forward a few hundred years and these little furbags steal drinks from tourists at oceanfront bars and restaurants. If humans needed one more example of how close we are to primates, the Vervet monkey’s drinking habits mirror our own. Monkeys considered teenagers drink more than adults, about 5 percent of them are alcoholics (Americans are at 7.2 percent), and there are even teetotaler monkeys that refuse spirits and topple an alcoholic drink in favor of the soda pop next to it. The one to eat out your entire fridge: Bears It ain’t surprising that people soak gummy bears in vodka considering that real bears often get soaking sloshed, too. Bears will eat your everything: Your garbage, your BFF, the ham sammich sitting on your steering wheel. They’re notorious for slamming copious amounts of beer on campsites and shaky-legging it through buzztown. Apparently, they prefer Rainier over Busch beer – if they can’t get their hands on fermented apples. The one who says,“No, really, I’m OK to drive”: Pen-tailed treeshrews and fruit bats
BS-ing you. She’ll recite a 2009 study where scientists got fruit bats drunk. They put the drunk bats in a maze full of dangling chains and other hurdles. The drunk fruit bats used their sonar and found their way through the obstacles as efficiently as the sober fruit bats did. I still wouldn’t give her the keys. Meanwhile, the pen-tailed treeshrew is such a raging alkie that it boozes every single night for about two hours. Drink of choice? Fermented nectar from the bertam palm tree that has a 3.8 percent ABV. The treeshrew has a metabolism that allows it to use the nectar as a main food source without getting blotto. Wouldn’t give her the car keys, either. Everyone’s walking home. Pees in your hallway or ice cube tray: Hamsters Fluffy little ham-hams have a bad habit of running on their spinny wheels and relieving themselves at the same time. PEE EVERYWHERE – and that’s when they’re sober. When in the wild, Syrian hamsters, otherwise known as golden hamsters, stockpile fruit and berries to survive the winter. As the fruit ages, it ferments. That doesn’t stop the fuzz-wubblies from gobbling it down. Because of this, Syrian hamsters have developed livers five times as big as other hamsters. They have evolved to process alcohol and, if there is a choice between liquor and water, they choose the liquor. Wrecks your house: Elephants Elephants have gotten a bad rep as the SOBs who will steal your beer, trample the village while crunked, then pass out in an inconsiderate thoroughfare. Continued on Page 15
If a fruit bat tells you she’s alright to drive, she’s probably
Alexi Grojean/Special to DGO
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From Page 14
sity. The government wants to make sure that the blow fiends will only eat the two coca species used in cocaine production and not any of the 155 other species.
Many scientists, plus National Geographic, call drunken elephants a myth ... and yet, as recently as 2012, it was reported that 50 elephants snatched up over 130 gallons of brew from Dumurkota, an east India village. They then trampled huts and shops alike while they searched for more Mahua, a local vodka punch.
Worst friend ever: Bees If you’re a bee that spent Sunday afternoon sipping fermented tree sap while watching football, don’t bother going home till you’re good and sober. Doesn’t matter that you found the perfect tobacco tree that had the nicotine sap you loved or the citrus tree with the caffeine sap that makes you glowy, don’t go home.
Shows up with coke to a beer party: Caterpillars The coca tussock moth lives mostly in Colombia and Peru. This beige little dude lays its eggs on coca plants. When the eggs hatch, the larvae eat the bloody hell out the plant leaves. You are correct in thinking that a coca plant is what cocaine is made from. The coca tussock moth can demolish an entire field so quickly that the Colombian government is interested in using them as a weapon against illegal drugs. Scientists are researching if a large release of moths is possible without wreaking havoc on biodiver-
Hives like to maintain law and order. Each hive has a guard bee at its entrance. Think of him as a bouncer. Tipsy bee, if you try to go home, the guard bee will shove you away from the hive. If you repeatedly try to enter the hive three sheets to the wind, this dude will GNAW YOUR LEGS OFF. Drunk bee, your friends suck. Sleep it off in a tulip. But hey, if the guard had let you in, you could’ve infected the hive with drunk honey production ... paralyzing everyone. So maybe you suck, too.
Alexi Grojean/ Special to DGO
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[ weed ] Seeing Through the Smoke Christopher Gallagher
We’ve come a long way to get to today’s strain-o-copia
“C
an I get one ounce of some Purple Bubble Cheese Dream, one Critical Tangerine Skunk Dog Widow, and an eighth of Hindu Panamanian Durban Colombian Thai Afghani Nepalese Red Gold Poison Kush?” “No problem. Be up in a minute. Can I interest you in some of our Girl Scout Cookies cookies?” I’m guessing that many of you have been privy to a very similar conversation waiting to pay at the wide-ranging bounty of Ye Olde Weede Shoppe, or heard a couple youngsters rambling on during intermission of a concert. A few thoughts might pass through our minds at this point: »» (1) “Yoooooooo. I wanna get me some of that.” Definitely get yourself some of that: Each strain operates a little differently with each person’s individual biological/chemical makeup; sampling of a wide range will allow you to know what you like best and give you the opportunity to enjoy that occasional “Whoa! Ohhhh! Wow!” moment) »» (2) “How did I get so old?” You continually didn’t die; celebrate this fact by trying something new. »» (3) “Where in the great googley moogley do all these crazy names come from?”
Originally, from the places where these individual strains flourished; nowadays, mostly from the folks creating new cultivars. I am here not only to address these thoughts, my friends, but also to begin taking a look, over the next few weeks, at some of the great strains in cannabis history and the genetics that anchor the breeding programs behind some of the great varieties available to the (incredibly fortunate) contemporary marijuana partaker. Back in the old days when I started smoking, in the 1980s – before cellphones (and slightly before pagers, which, when they came on the scene, revolutionized the buying and selling of cannabis), before the Innerwebz, during the days of the Cold War, when we were all reasonably certain that global thermonuclear war was going to be the reason for our collective demise – there was one kind of weed, and that’s what you called it, “weed.” It was reddish-greenish-brownish Mexican sativa and the bags came loaded with sticks and seeds that required a time commitment to clean before smoking. The buds were pressed into the most compact bricks possible to aid in smuggling – if you or someone you knew was involved enough, you knew that a pound
would comprise a brick approximately the size of a phone book). The weed would get you high, mostly a low-grade, cloudy high that would eventually necessitate a nap. Then, as the ’90s rolled along and the Berlin Wall fell, there started to be some variety with the introduction of (1) “Beasters,” which brought fame if not honor to their home region of British Columbia; (2) “Mids,” which were considered pretty good for the era, but would be considered pretty crappy by today’s standards; and (3) as the millennium approached and everyone freaked out about how changing dates might impact our computer networks, truly “dank,” “heady” bud started to become available with the arrival some of the legendary strains that have provided the foundation for this golden age of cannabis we now enjoy. We will begin our overview next week with the great Landrace strains, those gifts of nature that evolved in locales around the world to become the progenitors of the canna-copia that blesses us today and some of the early breedings like Northern Lights and Haze. Christopher Gallagher lives with his wife and their four dogs and two horses. Life is pretty darn good. Contact him at chrstphrgallagher@gmail.com.
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[Something Wicked]
Patty Templeton
‘DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT?’
T
wo men who appear armed walk toward my car. What does a gal do next? The parking lot is empty. I’m in a secluded, industrial area void of traffic or pedestrians. It’s 10:55 a.m. and the clinic doesn’t open until 11. The car doors are locked. The windows are tinted and rolled up. I debate driving away. Why should I have to drive away? Who are these people? I have an appointment. The men, thick-chested from body armor under their button-downs, get halfway across the lot. They have uniforms. They’re security guards, not cops. Are they armed or do they have bulky utility belts? Does it matter? Why are security guards coming to my car? All I did was park in the lot. They can’t ticket me for being there. Can private security even give tickets? Damn it, I have an appointment. Both wear aviator sunglasses. The one with the mustache knocks on the window. What harm can happen by rolling it down? They want to talk. But why should I have to talk to private security before I go to the doctor? What would happen if I don’t open the window? The path of least resistance is to just do it. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” I ask. I like to think that nonchalance drips off the words, but in reality, my legs are wobbly. Every time a police officer (and apparently even security guards) have approached my vehicle, I get the shakes. I know there are hard-working, nice cops out there. I also know that every interaction I’ve had with the police since I was 16 and living in or near Chicago was not a positive one. “Ma’am,” says the closest. He drapes his arm on my car and hangs his head by the window. “Do you have an appointment?” I’m not in the habit of talking about my doctor appointments with strangers. There’s nothing abnormal or erroneous with me having an appointment on my lunch break to renew my
GOING TO PLANNED PARENTHOOD FEELS LIKE A BATTLE ZONE
birth control prescription, but why should I have to talk about that with cops? What I wanted to say was, “Yeah, I have a goddamn appointment, what’s it to you?” Instead, the calmer, more practical, “Yes, sir, I do. It’s at 11 a.m.”
They nodded at me but didn’t back away. “I was early. I was going to wait in my car,” I said. I rolled up the window. I got out of my car. I walked to the guards. “Why are you out here anyways?”
In non-judgmental tones, the guards talked about safeguarding those who entered and worked in the clinic. Then, they asked to check my bag. Turns out, main guard is training the other guard. They both look in my purse. Because I travel alone and everyone has their own tricks to feeling safe, there’s a large pocket knife in my bag. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave that in the car.” Sheepishly, I look at my boot. Main guard’s gaze follows mine. “That one, too,” he said. I put the gear on my passenger seat. Lock up. “Why do you check people’s bags?” It’s a naïve question. “To make sure people do not have the means to harm the staff or clients of the clinic upon entry.” “Do people try to harm people here often?” “Just being cautious, ma’am.” They walked me to the door. Unlocked it. I stood in a foyer and had to be buzzed in to Planned Parenthood’s waiting room after staff confirmed that I had an appointment. Then, I renewed my prescription for birth control. My life had to be guarded from those who purport to guide the lives of the unborn, even though the services I was about to acquire had nothing to do with abortion, even though the majority of Planned Parenthood’s services are about prevention, education, outreach, and health care. Even if I had made the difficult decision to have an abortion – maybe for my health, because of a sexual assault, or after realizing I wasn’t monetarily or emotionally equipped to raise a child – why would exercising logic equate to someone having the right to intimidate or harm me? Author Ursula Le Guin said, “The only questions that matter are the ones that you ask yourself.” Maybe it is time we stop asking a person why they are walking into Planned Parenthood and start asking ourselves why it’s only the unborn that its opponents have compassion for?
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[love and sex]
Savage Love | Dan Savage
This domme is too overwhelming. Is it her, not them? I’m a woman in my late 40s. In my early 20s, I married a much older man. We did all the requisite things: kids, house, intercourse once a week. When the sex fell off due to his declining health, he surprised me by suggesting we open our marriage. He said I was too young to be limited and he didn’t want me to leave him for sex. I spent time contemplating how to truly fulfill my desires. I read a lot of erotica, indulged in porn, and discovered that what turned me on was Dominance. Not intercourse particularly, but power play with me as the Queen controlling a slave. I like chastity, face-sitting, and light bondage. I have found that this type of play appeals to smart and kinky gents. But I am finding that, despite a gentleman’s declaration of “wanting something long-term,” perhaps a friends-with-benefits arrangement, they tend to drop out in short order. Three times in the past two years I have spent a great deal of time getting to know someone before there was any play – a lot of time chatting online, several vanilla dates. In each of these instances, I felt that I had found a good friend. Each of these three men dumped me in exactly the same way. Each said that I was too overwhelmingly beautiful and powerful, and that their obsession with me took up too much room in their lives. This is very frustrating because I feel like I give someone the space they need. I think this is likely BS. Could “I’m overwhelmed” be the new “It’s not you, it’s me”? I am tired of having my feelings hurt. Must I hang up my crop forever? Done Offering My Mental Energy Forever hanging up your crop because a few guys tactfully ended things over a two-year period seems a bit melodramatic. So hang in there, DOMME, and hold on to that crop. The mistake you’re making, if I may be so bold as to offer some con-
structive criticism to the Queen, is investing too much time and energy up front, i.e., you’re making large emotional investments in these guys before you get around to the play. You’ll want to screen guys for your own safety, of course, but spending “a great deal of time getting to know” a potential kinky FWB is a recipe for disappointment. Because if you don’t click during play – if your style of BDSM doesn’t do it for them or vice versa – there are really no “benefits” in continuing. I suspect that was the case with your last three gents. But instead of ghosting you or saying something that could be construed as critical or unkind, all three heaped praise on you instead. You were too beautiful, too overwhelming, etc. It was, indeed, a kinder, gentler, subbier way of saying, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Dominant women are in such short supply relative to demand that submissive men will, well, submit to an endless vetting process. During that process, submissive guys open to something long-term will say so, DOMME, but submissive guys who aren’t looking for something long-term will say so, too, if they sense that’s what you want to hear. In order to be safe while avoiding avoidable heartache, DOMME, you’ll want to invest a little time in getting to know guys before you play – again, for your safety – but not so much emotional energy that you’ll be annoyed/upset/devastated if it doesn’t work out. Last night, the GF was on the receiving end of a session of oral sex, but maybe because we were in her sister’s spare bedroom, or for whatever reason, she would repeatedly get within a whisker of coming only to say, “STOP! Too intense!” But I am persistent if nothing else, and on the fourth try, we got there. Boy, did we get there! I can’t ask for personal insights, Dan, since performing oral sex on women isn’t your thing. But
perhaps your readers have a few surefire tricks that work when all else fails? Perhaps Everyone Really Says It’s Some Trick Your first three attempts got the GF close, PERSIST, and the fourth got her off. You obviously know what works for your girlfriend and don’t really need tricks or tips. You just keep doing what you’re doing, and next time you want to brag about your ability to get your GF there, go ahead and send me an honest brag. There’s no need to phrase your bragging in the form of a question – this is Savage Love, not Sex Jeopardy. My husband is wonderful. We are into BDSM. It’s always been super hot for me, and he’s always respected my boundaries. The other night, both of us had a lot to drink. I had WAY too much. We’d also been talking all night about me sucking his dick later. When we got home, he asked if I was too drunk for sex and I said we should have sex. I encouraged him. But when kinky stuff happened – him fucking my mouth, slapping my face a little – I quickly realized I was too drunk. I felt hurt and confused instead of feeling turned on. I felt sad, but I didn’t want to tell him to stop. At some point, he realized I was too drunk for what we were doing and he stopped. The next day, I felt so sad. He feels horrible and says that, regardless of me insisting (more than once) that he continue, he should’ve known I was too drunk. He feels bad. I feel bad. Any direction you could point me in – perhaps a book to read? – would be appreciated. Didn’t Know My Limits You don’t need a book, DKML, you need a shift – a shift in focus. Right now, you’re focused on everything that went wrong that night – the boozing, the confusion, a bad sexual experience with a trusted partner
– and you don’t seem to be really registering or giving enough weight to what went right that night. Your husband sensed you weren’t feeling it, realized you were too drunk (a little late, but still), and then, despite the fact that you encouraged him to continue, he sensed you weren’t in the right head space (you weren’t enjoying yourself, you were too drunk) and stopped. Your husband, even with a hard dick, even inebriated himself, even while topping during BDSM, didn’t lose sight of your safety and comfort. Don’t feel bad about the sex, or the kink, or your partner, DKML. Learn from this experience – BDSM and boozing don’t mix – and move on. My wife and I are poly. Next week, my wife is going on a business trip, and I made plans with a woman who we sometimes hook up with to come over. The complication is that, at 8 a.m. the next morning, our housekeeper is supposed to show up – and she’s likely to see that my wife is away but I’m eating breakfast with another woman. I’m not sure what to do. We’re open about being poly, but that seems like an awkward and inappropriate conversation to have with your housekeeper. An Inconvenient Guest You shouldn’t have to sneak around in front of your housekeeper, AIG, but your housekeeper probably – definitely – doesn’t want to hear the details of your sex life. So sneak out the back door or pass your lady friend off as a houseguest (remember to rumple the sheets in the guest room) – or reschedule either your housekeeper or your hookup. Dan Savage is a nationally syndicated sex advice columnist writing for The Stranger in Seattle. Contact him at mail@savagelove.net or @fakedansavage on Twitter and listen to his podcast every week at savagelovecast.com.
18 | Thursday, April 6, 2017 ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
[happening] Grab a pizza and watch the Go Rounds Who’s going to Dolores? You’re going to Dolores. The Dolores River Brewery, 100 S. Fourth St., will be slinging pies as the Go Rounds kick out psychedelic Americana from 8 p.m. to 11, Friday, April 7. The Go Rounds are indie art rock outta Kalamazoo, Michigan, who have deep grooves and lyrics to match. Totally danceable tunes will get your ass outta your chair. Midwestern twang goes trippy and intricate in their most recent album, “I Promise I Won’t Get Hurt.” Ten bucks gets you into the show, but don’t leave your wallet at home. You’ll want to try the DRB’s pizza and seasonal beers. Om nom nom.
Sing a friend into swingin’ down to Crash Music, at the Aztec Theater, 104 N. Main Ave., Aztec. Candler Wilkinson started with heavy metal, went to street busking, and finally found himself the leader of a western swing outfit, Wilkinson’s Quartet. Playing jump blues and country tunes, the band performs from 7:30 p.m. to 11, Friday, April 7. If you like Wayne Hancock or Lucky Tubb, you’ll want to check out the bouncing throwback vibes of Wilkinson’s Quartet. $15 bucks presale or $18 at the door. More information at www.crashmusicaztec.com. »» The Go Rounds
Thursday
115 Ute St, 563-4100.
FLC’s annual trash bash, 10 a.m., Reed Library, Fort Lewis College, www.fortlewis.edu.
Artist workshop with Stephen Day,
La Plata County Luminaries Toastmasters, noon, La Plata County Admin-
istration Building, 1101 East Second Ave., 382-6305. “Dance for Balance” dance class for seniors, 3 p.m., donations welcome, Abso-
lute Physical Therapy and Wellness, 277 East Eighth Ave., 764-4094. Creativity festivity exhibition and poetry slam, 4 p.m., $1-$12, Durango Arts
Center, 802 East Second Ave., 259-2606.
Friday Artist workshop with Stephen Day,
9:30 a.m., $250, Sorrel Sky Gallery, 828 Main Ave., 247-3555. Ben Gibson, 2:30 p.m., Balcony Bar and
Grill, 600 Main Ave, 422-8088. STEAM-tastic Friday, 3:30-4:30 p.m.,
Durango Public Library, 1900 East Third Ave., 375-3380, www.durangopubliclibrary.org. Kirtan chant, 6 p.m., $10, Yogadurango,
1485 Florida Road, 403-1133. FLC Battle of the Bands, 7:30 p.m., Student Life Center, Fort Lewis College, 1000 Rim Drive, www.fortlewis.edu. Black Velvet Trio, 8-12 p.m., Derailed Pour
Dance shoes and country blues
9:30 a.m., $250, Sorrel Sky Gallery, 828 Main Ave., 247-3555.
Jazz church experienced musician session, 6 p.m., Derailed Pour House, 725 Main
Ave., 247-5440, www.derailedpourhouse.com. Karaoke, 8 p.m., 8th Avenue Tavern, 509
“Swing into Spring” craft fair, 10 a.m.,
East Eighth Ave., 259-8801.
La Plata County Fairgrounds, 2500 Main Ave., 749-5582.
Monday
Mindfulness for athletics, 5:30 p.m., $180, Smiley Building, 1309 East Third Ave., 382-9593.
Colorado poet laureate Joseph Hutchison reading, 10 a.m., Durango
Four Corners Arts Forum, 9 a.m., KDUR
Better living through technology,
Public Library, 1900 East Third Ave., 375-3380, www.durangopubliclibrary.org.
People’s Practice in the Park, 12:30
Henry Stoy piano, 10 a.m.-1 p.m., Jean-
Pierre Bakery, 601 Main Ave., 385-0122. “The Healing Power of Unselfishness” lecture, 11 a.m., Durango Community
Recreation Center, 2700 Main Ave., 375-7300. Black Velvet Duo, 5:30-10 p.m., Diamond
Belle Saloon, 699 Main Ave., 375-7160. “Cocktails with the Conductor” by Music in the Mountains, 6 p.m., $50,
Sorrel Sky Gallery, 828 Main Ave., 247-3555. Pete Giuliani Band, 7 p.m., Animas Valley
Grange, 7271 County Road 203, 769-8470. Ken Weldman with guest Andrea Earley-Coen, 7:30 p.m., $15, Community
Concert Hall, Fort Lewis College, 1000 Rim Drive, www.fortlewis.edu. Karaoke, 8 p.m., 8th Avenue Tavern, 509
East Eighth Ave., 259-8801. Foxfeather, 9:30 p.m., Balcony Backstage,
91.9/93.9 FM, www.kdur.org. p.m., Buckley Park, 247-8395, www.turtlelakerefuge.org. Happy HourYoga, 5:30-6:30 p.m., Ska Brew-
ing Co., 225 Girard St., www.skabrewing.com. Italian reading and discussion, 6
p.m., $148, Durango Space, 1221 Main Ave., 828-1340. Spoken Word, 7-9 p.m., Steaming Bean,
Master’s Men Colorado, 6:30 a.m., DoubleTree Hotel, 501 Camino del Rio, 259-6580. Great Decisions Latin America’s Political Pendulum, 11:45 a.m.-1:45 p.m.,
Durango Public Library, 1900 East Third Ave., 375-3380, www.durangopubliclibrary.org. Rain-water harvesting basics presentation, 5:30 p.m., Pine River Library, 395
Sunday
Bibliocraft beads, 6 p.m., Durango Public
Artist workshop with Stephen Day,
Library, 1900 East Third Ave., 375-3380, www. durangopubliclibrary.org.
9:30 a.m., $250, Sorrel Sky Gallery, 828 Main Ave., 247-3555.
Durango Nature Studies full-moon hike and coyote program, 7 p.m., Sale
Henry Stoy piano, 10 a.m.-1 p.m., Jean-
Barn trailhead, 882-7296.
Pierre Bakery, 601 Main Ave., 385-0122.
Take Off Pounds Sensibly, 9 a.m., Durango—La Plata Senior Center, 2424 Main Ave., 382-6428.
Irish music jam session, 12:30 p.m.,
Irish Embassy Pub, 900 Main Ave., 403-1200, www.theirishembassypub.com.
Ninth annual homegrown food retreat, 9 a.m., $20 suggested donation Educa-
Ukulele jam, 4 p.m., Magpies Newsstand
tion Literacy Health and Inspiration Building,
Cafe, 707 Main Ave., 259-1159.
Wednesday Take Off Pounds Sensibly, 9 a.m., Durango—La Plata Senior Center, 2424 Main Ave., 382-6428.
Floor Barre conditioning class, 3 p.m., donations welcome, Absolute Physical Therapy and Wellness, 277 East Eighth Ave., 764-4094.
Bayfield Center Dr., 884-2222,
tion Literacy Health and Inspiration Building, Dancing Spirit Community Art Center, 115 Ute St., 563-4100.
8 p.m., Durango Brewing Co., 3000 Main Ave., 247-3396.
Tuesday
House, 725 Main Ave., 247-5440.
Do-it-yourself-rain-barrel-construction workshop, 9 a.m., $38, Educa-
Stand up drink down comedy night,
Green Business roundtable, noon, $15, Henry Strater Theatre, 699 Main Ave., 375-7160.
Wake Up Laughing, 9:30 p.m., Balcony
Saturday
6 p.m., $48, DurangoSpace, 1221 Main Ave., 828-1340.
downstairs at the Irish Embassy Pub, 900 Main Ave., 403-1200, www.thebean.com.
600 Main Ave., 422-8008.
Backstage, 600 Main Ave., 422-8008.
Floor Barre conditioning class, 3 p.m., donations welcome, Absolute Physical Therapy and Wellness, 277 East Eighth Ave., 764-4094.
Green Business roundtable, noon, $15, Henry Strater Theatre, 699 Main Ave., 375-7160.
Mindfulness for athletics, 5:30 p.m., $180, Smiley Building, 1309 East Third Ave., 382-9593. Better living through technology,
6 p.m., $48, DurangoSpace, 1221 Main Ave., 828-1340. Stand up drink down comedy night,
8 p.m., Durango Brewing Co., 3000 Main Ave., 247-3396.
Submissions To submit listings for publication in DGO and www.dgomag.com, visit
www.swscene.com, click “Add Your Event,” enter the event info into the form, and submit. Listings at www.swscene.com will appear on www.dgomag.com and in our weekly print edition. Posting an event on www.swscene.com is free and takes one day to process.
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Breakdance Class Monday 7-8 pm @ The Dance Spot
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To advertise in DGO Deals contact us at 970-247-3504 20 | Thursday, April 6, 2017 ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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To advertise in DGO Deals contact us at 970-247-3504 �������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� Thursday, April 6, 2017 | 21
Horoscope ARIES (March 21 to April 19) You are pumped to explore social situations, playful times with children, the arts and sporting events this week. You want to have fun, and you’re ready for anything! TAURUS (April 20 to May 20) Family discussions will be lively, inventive and original this week. Listen to what other people bring to the table. Surprise company might drop by – stock the fridge. GEMINI (May 21 to June 20) You’re full of inventive, geniuslike ideas this week. This is why conversations with others will be lively and stimulating! Enjoy and learn whatever you can. CANCER (June 21 to July 22)
Bizarro
Trust your moneymaking ideas because you are capable of seeing new ways of
doing things simply because you can think outside the box. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. LEO (July 23 to Aug. 22) For most of this week, the Moon is in your sign, dancing with wild and wacky Uranus. This helps you to be inventive and spontaneous. Just go with the flow! VIRGO (Aug. 23 to Sept. 22) You might be privately excited about something this week because you see new ways of doing things. The trick is, will others agree with you? Why not find out? LIBRA (Sept. 23 to Oct. 22) You might meet a real character this week. This also is a good day to hang out with friends and explore fresh activities. Don’t be afraid to take a chance on something new. SCORPIO (Oct. 23 to Nov. 21)
People admire you this week. They see you as someone who is a leader and who is full of innovative ideas. Likewise, your boss or parent also might have a new way of looking at things. SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22 to Dec. 21) Travel plans suddenly might fall in your lap this week. Alternatively, scheduled travel might be canceled or delayed. Anything can happen. CAPRICORN (Dec. 22 to Jan. 19) Check your bank account and anything to do with shared property because a few surprises await you this week. Make sure you know what’s going on. AQUARIUS (Jan. 20 to Feb. 18) A friend or partner might surprise you this week by suggesting something out of the blue. Stay light on your feet so
that you can play ball. PISCES (Feb. 19 to March 20) This is a good week to introduce reform and improvements to your job or possibly to your health. That’s because you are full of original, inventive ideas. Trust your thinking process. BORN THIS WEEK You want to be happy, and you are motivated to discover how to do this. You believe anything is possible and you have faith in yourself. It’s important to know you will benefit from all your dealings with others this year. If your success lies in interacting with other people, be friendly! Make friends. Join clubs and organizations. Even your social interactions will be mutually beneficial. © 2017 King Features Syndicate Inc.
weekly bestsellers March 26 – April 1 »»1. Mountain To Mountain, by Shannon Galpin (Paperback) »»2. Milk and Honey, by Rupi Kaur (Paperback) »»3. A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman (Paperback) »»4. In the Woods, by Tana French (Paperback) »»5. Rest in the Morning, by r.h. Sin (Hardcover) »»6. All the Missing Girls, by Megan Miranda (Paperback) »»7. Furiously Happy, by Jenny Lawson (Paperback) »»8. The Handmaids Tale, by Margaret Atwood (Paperback) »»9. A Dog’s Purpose, by W. Bruce Cameron (Paperback) »»10. Cork Dork, by Bianca Bosker (Paperback)
22 | Thursday, April 6, 2017 ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
[Durango’s stories, told in their own words]
First Person | Cyle Talley
‘EVERYTHING THAT I EXPERIENCE ...
IS MY RESPONSIBILITY’ It’s a snappy afternoon, and Durango Coffee Co. is humming when I spot Kevin Johnson reading in the corner. He smiles broadly, showing all his teeth when I ask if I might speak with him for a while. I ask him who he’s apologized to most recently and what that experience was like for him. I think he’s being cavalier - that he’s joking - when he says, “Oh, let’s see. I apologized to myself most recently,” but as it turns out, Kevin is an intensely earnest guy. I tell his story here, in his own words.
O
h, let’s see. I apologized to myself most recently. I do it every day. I have to. We distract ourselves with whatever it is that’s off our pursuit. That distraction is something that we need to recognize, but hopefully refine how we deal with it over time. It’s sort of like stubbing your toe. “Argh! I acknowledge that I just did that. I wish it hadn’t happened, but I’ve got to keep moving.” It’s more of being present with it, but not giving it power. Most often, I get in my own way with ego-related centricity. Any time in which you start placing value on an experience or what an action or thought might lead to, positioning value that’s pushing toward some future endeavor, like accumulating experience or wealth or skill, then that, to me, needs apologizing for. It’s preventing a level of being present with what you’re doing just then, when you focus on what you’re doing next. We don’t really have anything other than the present moment. There’s not a sense of being involved with what we did last year, or what we’re going to do tomorrow. That’s something that we can theorize about, but it’s not really what we’re doing or what we’re a part of. I haven’t always thought like this. That’s where the apology comes in. It’s been a slow refining. There was much more temptation in the past to project value toward a future goal or desire – or comparing it to something that I had done in the past that I wanted to duplicate or modify in some
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»» Kevin Johnson way that was building from that previous experience into something that I felt like I could manipulate or predict. I was about 27, taking a road trip across Northern Idaho, and it had been raining for three or four days. It’s sort of hard to enjoy one’s surroundings when it’s raining so hard that you can’t see across the road, you know? I pulled over and was doing some reading – Thich Nhat Hahn, Jean-Paul Sarte – and something clicked within the relation between Buddhism and Existentialism where it more or less suggested that everything that I experience from moment to moment, from day to day, is my responsibility. So I have to find a way, in order to
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»» Kevin Johnson
on mindfulness and living in the moment
incorporate myself and my presence, to creating a moment-to-moment, thought-to-thought, feeling-to-feeling existence that I want to experience. No one else is going to do that for me. It’s my responsibility. My conception of how internalized time really functions became distinctly different from, say, the way we would approach building a house or writing a story where there are pieces that we can put together. That moment really clicked some sort of awareness that our internal progress, our emotional/intellectual “building” comes in these sorts of dynamic shifts that aren’t necessarily in predictable stages where we can manipulate them in conscious, observable ways. I work at Maria’s. Customer service – extroversion – is easier to have a revolving sense of that moment-to-moment. You’re involved with another energy, whereas when you’re by yourself or traveling alone, it’s much easier to get in your own way with whatever particular distraction you might have. Whether it’s thinking, “I need to be doing the laundry,” or “The dishes have piled up,” when you’re actually trying to create a piece of music or something. Whereas when you’re in the presence of someone else, they’re constantly asking for your attention, so it’s bringing you more into the moment in a way that there’s a greater stimulus than your own initiative. They’re asking for your participation. It’s easier to retain a sort of “in the moment” when that moment is constantly changing and asking for you to be a part of it. If you’re just trying to maneuver your way through things to create your own experience, then it really takes something out of the ordinary to bring your attention out of your own distraction. Cyle Talley has rediscovered his passion for peanut butter and jelly. Email him at: cyle@cyletalley.com, if you’re so inclined.
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SKY UTE CASINO RESORT EVENTS CENTER
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