Taking down the Stars & Bars and J.P. Harris

by Chris Aaland

I’m a child of the South. While I was born in Colorado Springs, I spent my formative years near Houston in the swampy suburbs of Pasadena and Bay Town. Some of my earliest memories are of kindergarten and first grade teachers correcting my speech because it wasn’t Southern enough. While my classes were integrated with a mixture of black, Hispanic and white kids, I recall that even as six-year-olds, we segregated ourselves like prison gangs. Racial strife was everywhere in South Texas in the early 1970s, less than a decade removed from the peak of the Civil Rights Movement.

J.P. Harris & the Tough Choices play ‘authentic’ country on Wed., July 1 at the Aztec Theatre.

We left Texas to return to Colorado, to my stepdad’s family ranchland near Rifle. The Grand Valley had less diversity than Houston. On Silt Mesa, we divided ourselves as ranchers vs. sheepherders. I recall having just one black classmate. We called him “Juice” in our peewee football league because he was a running back, unaware that this comparison to O.J. Simpson could be taken as a racial slur. A few years later, my parents’ divorce landed me in Jefferson County’s upper middle class suburbs. My Wheat Ridge High School – with more than 1,200 students – had just a handful of African-American students. I can’t recall one of their names.

My music changed through the years, too. As a tyke, I listened to what my folks did – mostly the outlaw country of the day. By the time I was buying my own cassettes in high school, classic rock was all the rage. And Southern rock seemed the most authentic. I remember buying some old vinyl Lynyrd Skynyrd at a used record shop on West Colfax. A trip to the flea market on Sheridan netted a Skynyrd pin that I proudly wore on my denim jacket. That pin? The Stars & Bars with Skynyrd’s name crisscrossing on the front. “The Dukes of Hazzard” still aired on CBS through my junior year of high school and my buddy Shawn Nichols drove a black ’69 Dodge Charger – the perfect cruising machine in the day.

I viewed the Stars & Bars as a symbol of Southern pride. Trouble was, I never took the time to ask any of my black friends whether or not it was offensive because I didn’t have any.

I rarely quote scripture, but even the Bible says there comes a time to put away childish things … or at least something to that effect. To be honest, I never made it past the first few pages of Genesis.

The Stars & Bars must be stored away in a museum, lest we repeat the mistakes of our past. Bravo to lawmakers from both sides of the aisle in many Southern states who are revisiting the use of Confederate and racist relics. If we continue to wave that freak flag, expect more Dylann Roofs to rise from the ashes of the South. Take it down, lock it up, burn it if you must.

The next time I feel that twang of Southern pride yearning to escape, I’ll fry some catfish and hushpuppies or, better yet, put on some dusty old Skynyrd, Allman Brothers or Charlie Daniels Band vinyl.

In a string of one festival after another, a rare midweek show in a tiny venue stands out as my most anticipated show of the summer. J.P. Harris & the Tough Choices comes to Crash Music at the historic Aztec Theatre at 7 p.m. Wednesday. Harris plays country music … and not the swill you’ll hear on Top 40 radio. It’s authentic stuff, steeped in Hank, Lefty and Merle, with a bit of outlaw country and truckin’ tunes tossed in for good measure. Ever listen to Kynan & Rags on the Velvet Rut on KDUR? Or my own Tales of the New West on KSUT? If so, you’ve no doubt heard J.P. and crew. They’ve played the Dolores River Brewery and the old Summit in the past. Trouble is, those dates always conflicted with Telluride Bluegrass. Much of J.P.’s target audience was already getting their freak on up at 8,750 feet. This time, though, you’ll merely have to choose a DD, carpool and endure a Thursday morning hangover at work. Hard honky-tonk demands no less.

If you’ve never been to the Aztec Theatre — and I hadn’t until a mid-morning business meeting a few weeks ago — you’re in for a treat. It’s a big room, with a sloping dance floor that leads down to a sizable main stage. In the back is a bar and some tables and chairs. Up front, there’s plenty of room to swing dance or bum-rush the stage. It reminds me a bit of the Rico Theatre, where I had the pleasure of seeing Robert Earl Keen and assorted other shows back in the ‘90s.

The Irish Embassy Pub hosts a wake for Tom Byrne from 2-6 p.m. Saturday. If you’re a picker, bring your instrument. Tom was a friend to many in the local music community, volunteering at the Meltdown, serving a stint on the Durango Acoustic Music Board of Directors, participating in the weekly Sunday Celtic jam at the Embassy and fronting his own group, An Sliabh. He was a longtime Durango High School teacher and lifelong river rat. Cancer may have taken him from us too early — he was just 58 years old — but it didn’t rob him of his dignity and love of life.

All aboard the Durango Brew Train! All six Durango craft brewers will ride the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad to Cascade Canyon, enjoy live music from the Badly Bent, sample craft beer and learn about the brewing process and history along the way … all while benefitting the United Way of Southwest Colorado this Saturday.

Tonight’s (Thursday, June 25) free Concert in the Park, presented by the Community Concert Hall and Alpine Bank, turns over its stage to rising Bayfield singer-songwriter Tyler Gummersall from 5-7 p.m.

This week’s Top Shelf list recounts the nine names we should remember from last week’s Charleston church shooting. These folks were librarians, pastors, doctors, coaches, teachers and state senators. They were fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters:

Cynthia Hurd, 54

Susie Jackson, 87

Ethel Lance, 70

Depayne Middleton, 49

Clementa Pinckney, 41

Tywanza Sanders, 26

Daniel Simmons, 74

Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45

Myra Thompson, 59

Look away, look away, look away? Email me at chrisa@gobrainstorm.net.