Memory lane, back on tap and John Brown’s Body

by Chris Aaland

"Don’t forget the pee rock,” Kevin wrote on my Facebook page last week.This was an epiphany of sorts for Kevin, a high school friend of my little brother’s whose only noteworthy skills are a variety of drinking games. His real job is tapping Coors Light kegs at Avalanche and Nuggets home games.

Strangely, numerous friends of Billy’s, Steph’s and mine echoed the same request to save the bowling ball-sized chunk of granite that rested north of my parents’ garage for the past 27 years. Pee rock has been doused in urine by countless juvenile partiers at 47 Hillside Drive for nearly three decades.

When Mom and Dad sell your childhood home, it’s painful. Last weekend, I drove up to Big D to salvage whatever I could from my youth. Stamp collections, Grandpa’s fishing rods, hens and chicks from the garden and other treasures. My last walk-through turned into a dozen or so last walk-throughs. I simply couldn’t say good-bye. The final jaunt through the house was a solo one, so no one could see my tears. I felt like Steve Martin in “The Jerk” by the end. “This and the paddle ball game and that’s all I need … .”

One of my fondest memories came in the summer of 1986, after I bought a CD player and my first two discs, Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” and Eric Clapton’s “Timepieces, Vol. 2.” When my old man heard the piano intro to “Tulsa Time,” he was stunned at the clarity and the lack of tape hiss or scratchy record pops.

The folks soon realized that music was more than just background noise in their teen-age son’s life, that it was his passion. It’s no surprise that one of the last things I sorted through was Mom’s record collection, which was already boxed up for Goodwill. Some well-loved Don Williams, Linda Ronstadt and Nitty Gritty Dirt Band LPs made the trek back to Durango with me.

My last few days in Wheat Ridge proved that discovery isn’t relegated to the past. Dinner at my friend Steve Progar’s Italian place, Abrusci’s, confirmed this. Steve takes simple dishes like rigatoni and sausage and makes them exquisite. If anything, Abrusci’s is now a reason to visit the old hometown – like when I’ll see the Dead play the Pepsi Center in May.

There will be more Denver trips in the future, both for business and pleasure, but it will be strange not going home when I’m there. I take solace knowing that traveling back to my youth only requires stepping outside and whizzing on the newly-relocated pee rock, though.

You won’t have to travel very far this week for a world of music, ranging from traditional Celtic to reggae to Scandinavian bluegrass.

Didn’t get enough of the Irish thing on St. Paddy’s Day? Then drive south to Farmington to hear a pair of traditional Celtic bands, Beoga and Gráda, at San Juan College’s Henderson Fine Arts Center at 7 p.m. Saturday.

The Summit hosts reggae by Fort Collins’ Dubskin tonight (Thursday), Megaphon on Friday, and the electronic/funk of Future Simple Project on Saturday.

John Brown’s Body, noted reggae band, with special guest DJ I-Gene, play an all-ages show at the Abbey Theatre, Friday night. Doors open at  9 p.m.

On Monday night, acoustic virtuosos Darol Anger and Mike Marshall return to the Community Concert Hall, this time with Swedish trio Väsen in tow. Anger and Marshall cut their teeth with the original David Grisman Quintet back in the ‘70s. Ever since, they’ve mashed bluegrass, jazz, classical and world music in such lineups as NewGrange, Psychograss and the Anger-Marshall Band.

John Brown's Body

Two of my favorite local beers are back on tap! A sure sign that spring is in the air is the release of Durango Pale Ale and Carvers’ Raspberry Wheat. Mowing the yard is a relaxing chore when you have a growler of Razzy Wheat iced down in a bucket on the deck and a lemon-garnished pint glass filled with the red elixir waiting for you at the finish line.

Lawn mowing certainly takes me back to the suburbs. This week’s Top Shelf list recalls 10 shenanigans at our folks’ homestead that Billy, Steph and I got into. Mom and Mr. Bill may or may not know about these:

1. Doug Rand and company playing “Over the Hills and Far Away” for nearly 100 Zep-heads at my going-away-to-college fiesta in 1986.

2. Same party, getting a bottle cap super-glued to my nose when I passed out.

3. Telling my grumpy, old neighbor to “go screw herself” when she tried to break up a party. My parents actually laughed about it when they found out.

4. Steph throwing a Wheat Ridge party but having only Lakewood High students show up. The kids from the rival school trashed our house. Mr. Bill’s liquor cabinet has never been the same.

5. Billy’s tee shots, spraying 200 yards in all directions.

6. Fletch and I acquiring a keg from the neighborhood bar and drunkenly dropping it down the stairs at 3 a.m. The old man slapped me silly for that one.

7. Canadian roulette: A six cans of Molson, one of which was furiously shaken. Six buddies had to open a can pressed to their heads. The “winner” had to chug what was left of his foamy beer. It was as sick then as it seems now.

8. Billy’s friends throwing a party that ended with North Denver gang-bangers burglarizing the house that night and tagging it a few days later.

9. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Steph and her crew loved taking Dungeons & Dragons to psychedelic extremes.

10. Reiling and I tee-peeing the neighbor’s house across the street and recording it for posterity. The fact that she was a hooker only upped the ante. Why we never employed her is beyond me. After all, this was the era of Tom Cruise and “Risky Business.” •

You had to run away high so you wouldn’t come home low? E-mail me at chrisa@gobrainstorm.net.