by Ted Holteen
don't remember the exact year when it happened, but I'm not surprised – it's
human nature. The first time I saw Main Avenue lined with Hogs, I thought
it was one of the coolest things I had seen in years. The second time,
very cool. Years number three and four; “oh, it's biker weekend, huh.” After
10 years, I'm numb. Like a sitting president, “Married With Children” and
sex with your wife, eventually the novelty wears off and you need change,
quickly. Fortunately, someone did something about it. The Four Corners
Folk Festival is back in Pagosa Springs and better than ever, and here's
the best part: It's not in Durango or Ignacio. Others would argue that
the best part is the music and the camping, but for those of us who are
stuck here dodging leather-clad doctors and lawyers on $40,000 Harleys,
the 60 miles on Highway 160 leads to nothing short of Shangri-la. Oh,
yeah, the music. Tim O'Brien, John Cowan, the subdudes and Gillian Welch
are just some of the acts that will play over the three-day weekend.
There are many more, but I don't get paid by the word, and what am I
anyway, a freakin' brochure? For more information, check out the Telegraph's “On
the Town” section.
Remember the movie “When Worlds Collide?” Truth be
told, I don't either, but it seems a fitting analogy
for what's happening on Friday night at the Abbey Theatre.
While our 30,000 or so guests are chomping at the bit
getting revved up for Molly Hatchet (I'm serious, keep
reading), The Abbey hosts the Shut Up and Rap Tour
late night on Friday. This should be an interesting
dynamic, as I challenge you to find anyone displaying
a confederate flag to either shut up or rap. It's kind
of like taking several busloads of homophobic Republican
delegates to see a Broadway show. (That really happened,
too.) If the Abbey is still standing by Saturday night,
check out Mingo Fishtrap , a true-to-form R&B outfit
that proves all the good band names are already taken.
They've got the horns and the keys and eight people
on stage, and it should be a rollicking affair. In
a shrewd marketing coup, the Abbey is selling weekend
passes for both shows, so I guess you don't actually
have to ever leave. (Management and staff may guess
otherwise, so be prepared.)
Ah, yes. Molly Hatchet . I warned you. But the Southern
rock retreads (there are no original members still
with the band) are only the third gem in this triple
crown. Friday night at the rally grounds in Ignacio,
spend a quiet evening with Slaughter , then Saturday
it's BTO . Time was, that was an abbreviation for Bachman
Turner Overdrive. We also used to call the Colonel's
place Kentucky Fried Chicken until the lawyers decided
that such a name implied that they would actually have
to sell chicken. So we're left with BTO and KFC. And
Molly Hatchet. And Slaughter. I live in Ignacio – pray
After years of observation and experiments, it took
no more than a bath for the Greek scientist Archimedes
to finally utter “Eureka!” and realize that often,
the answers to life's mysteries are right under our
noses (or other parts of the anatomy). The marketing
gurus at Durango Mountain Resort must have had a similar
epiphany earlier this year when they scheduled the
San Juan Brewfest to coincide with the rally weekend.
Rather than trying to compete with the classic rockfest
going on down south by bringing in former roadies and
session musicians and passing it off as Steppenwolf,
they invited 20-some odd brewers from around the region
to pour suds. I know what you're thinking; “That's
brilliant – invite a few thousand bikers to ride 25
miles up a winding mountain road and get them drunk,
then send them on their way.” But no, they thought
of that. Free shuttles will be run from Steamworks
throughout the day – please, please use this service.
I have very few actual principles or beliefs in my
life, but drunk driving is simply not amusing. Don't
Someone recently asked me, “Why don't you do movie
reviews?” What a great idea! Here goes:
“Collateral:” Stars Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx. Awful.
“Without a Paddle:” Up the Creek meets Deliverance.
“Alien vs. Predator:” My God.
“The Princess Diaries 2:” The bitch is back!
I could go on, but it should be noted here that I
haven't seen these films, nor do I plan to. I did,
however, see the latest offering at the Abbey Theatre, “The
Corporation.” It's another in a string of films this
summer whose purpose appears to be to get us as angry
as possible about things we can't change. If all goes
according to plan (Rupert Murdoch's, anyway), the Telegraph will
soon be a subsidiary of Boeing or Monsanto and my column
will be edited by a plastic explosives chemist rather
than Bosses Sands and Votel. The Bosses would be wise
to start planning now for that contingency. A six-week
stint at a paramilitary summer camp in Georgia should
prepare any journalist to meet the challenges of the
newsrooms of the new millennium.
Just try and challenge my war record. firstname.lastname@example.org
. One week 'til kickoff.