Yesterday morning, taken up in a blaze of compulsion, Carolyn and I decided to have a family adventure. We resolved to take son and daughter to the annual Palisade Peach Festival. To my friend (you know who you are), it had absolutely, positively nothing to do with your constant barrage of hyper links that were pointing me to the PeachFest—okay, okay, maybe just a little.
Now, because this was an impulse decision, we made no plans and did no research regarding locations or times. We simply packed the kids up in the back of the car and pointed the battered Ford towards Palisade. When we arrived at the Palisade Community Center, the area was oddly empty of pretty much everything except for a handful of young kids skating on what looked like newly installed ramps and pipes. Of course, I’ve not been to Palisade in some time.
Despite the quiet and desolate nature of the park, a door to the building had been left open as a suggestion that someone might be lingering within, and so I decided to explore in search of the correct location for the festival. As I entered the building it became very obvious that it was mostly empty. Only one room had a light switched on, and inside were an array of tables and displays. Clearly, something was going to take place there and I had a hunch that it was probably peach related.
As I entered the room I realized that there was only one person there, a woman who was busy setting things out for display and checking the overall aesthetics of the room. I announced my presence with a friendly Hello! She stopped, turned, and returned the greeting. I queried her as to the time and location for the festival and she informed me that it was scheduled to open just down the road at the Riverbend Park, roughly one hour from what was then the present.
As she spoke, I realized that I was speaking with something of a local celebrity. At least, I think it was. I didn’t ask her if her name was Dixie Burmeister, but she looked like Dixie, and her voice sounded like Dixie’s. Dixie is known in Western Colorado, and perhaps in other areas of this region, for her appearances in City Market commercials. City Market is a regional grocery chain that I believe is owned by Kroger. Anyway, she does other things as well, and can be seen on any given week on a television set somewhere in the valley. I’ve even seen her do some cooking shows, though I don’t know whether it was syndicated or something that was produced for a special occasion, or what.
Anyway, after departing the building I pointed my Ford back towards Clifton, but only for as long as it would take to reach the Riverbend Park access road. On this leg of the trip I was bragging about my brush with fame, but my wife seemed none too impressed. I guess she has no appreciation for local celebrity. I suppose she’s probably not alone; it is for this reason that I pity our local sportscasters and weathermen.
When we arrived at the park it became obvious that the PeachFest had quite a following. I’ve been only once before, many years ago. This year it was much larger than I remember. We parked some distance from the entrance, which was only an issue because it meant that we had to push two strollers down a gravel road. If you’ve never attempted this, try it the next time that you feel you deserve some punishment. Despite our stroller pushing dilemma, Hunter was enthusiastic. He adeptly adjusted his cap to allow for maximum effect.
One thing that Carolyn and I both locked onto right away was the fact that there was a booth set up for pony rides. Already at age 2 our daughter Payton is a serious book hound, with a chest full of Dr. Seuss, Berenstain Bears, Muppet Babies, and other children’s books. One of her favorite series are her My Little Pony books. When she wants to read one of them, she announces with glee, “Pony!” So we knew for sure we had a way to entertain her.
Hunter maintained his cool pretty well considering that he was too small to enjoy any of the activity booths that littered the outskirts of the festival. We saw everything from bungee jumping on a trampoline—called Euro-Jump or something similar—to rock climbing.
All in all we had a pretty good time. The festivities were cut short though when Payton, who had seemed so excited to go inside an inflatable maze and slide, became very frightened upon realizing that she had entered alone. Apparently the anxiety of being separated form Mom and Dad was just too much for her at that time. It was pretty warm out though, so to be fair she probably was getting a bit sleepy.
To recap, yesterday I met a celebrity, had the fortune of being there for my daughter’s first pony ride, and otherwise enjoyed the day with my beautiful family. Sometimes, it seems, things just go right. Yesterday’s family adventure was one of those events that just seemed to lift up everyone involved.
Finale of the 2008 City of Grand Junction fireworks display.
After having canceled all of our plans for this 4th of July, the night was looking pretty grim. It was quickly adding up to me being home alone with my son Hunter, while Carolyn was across town providing in home care to an elderly client with our daughter Payton in tow. But after only a couple of hours they were home again, and in time to head out for the city of Grand Junction’s fireworks show, probably the biggest in Mesa County.
Because of our late departure we didn’t figure that getting in to the stadium would even be a possibility. As we marched down the street, each of us with a stroller leading our advance, I was pondering the insanely high price of fireworks. A small barrel fountain was $9 and a cheesy American remake of the Roman candle, called the American Candle or some such ridiculous thing, cost $6!
It was highway robbery, flat out. I’d never seen the cost of something that I was planning to obliterate by way of violent incineration rise so quickly into the double digits! After scooping up a handful of fireworks from the side of the table with no prices displayed I rounded the corner and, sadly, began replacing nearly everything I had picked up as I saw how much each of them cost. $15 for a “PT Boat” remake of the old fashioned tank firework! This one had more guns, was slightly bigger, and had a fancier paint job. But who’s gonna pay fifteen bucks for something their going to detonate unless it does something pretty damned cool?
And that brings us to the next part of my story. We marched down 12th street with strollers in hand and settled on a little spot just east of Mesa State College and north of McDonald’s. Every patch of grass from Albertson’s to our spot was just smothered in people. It was as if they were growing out of the very ground. Our spot provided a clear view of the approximate area where we knew that the fireworks would be detonating. As we waited for the show, which has yet to start “on time” in my presence, our kids were growing unruly.
As a counter to this we had purchased what fireworks we could before leaving Albertson’s, which amounted to a $6 American Candle and a 1$ bag of poppers, half of which were nearly duds—their pop was more like a puff. Anyhow, there were others around who weren’t as patient with the state of the available fireworks. Illegal mortars were being cannoned off into the air at random intervals from at least three different directions. It was mild mayhem, a bit like the warm up for a big battle, I suppose. At one point, just as I was entertaining the kids with our American Candle, two police officers rode by on bicycle. They didn’t say anything about the firework, though my wife seemed to think I was going to get in trouble because she kept saying, “cop, cop, cop!”
As I mentioned, the show was long in coming. Just to the north of us, maybe three blocks or so away, mortars were going off frequently enough for me to break out the camera and get it set to how I wanted it for shooting fireworks. The sky was pitch black and my flash kept illuminating the foreground, so I turned off the flash and it seemed to work fine. Of course, what you see on that little inch by an inch screen isn’t always what you get on the computer when you open the pictures up.
After several mortar rounds (fireworks, by the way, the kind the “big boys” use) had illuminated the sky behind us, something kind of eerie happened. From behind us and perfectly in line with the trajectory of those mortars came a helicopter. I don’t know for sure, but it looked very much like the Flight for Life chopper from St. Mary’s. Anyhow, it flew over us in the path of those fireworks, less than a minute after the most recent mortar launch. The helicopter came so fast from behind us that if the people launching those mortars had lit a fuse, there would have been no stopping the chain of events that would have followed.
A mortar round exploding in such close proximity to a helicopter, which is inherently dangerous due to the number of moving parts as compared to a fixed wing airframe, could quite possibly have spelled disaster for the crew—and for my family. As low as the helicopter was flying I think that it could very easily have come down on top of us because we were roughly three blocks ahead of where the damage would have been done. If it continued on a forward trajectory, we could have been toast. Images from the movie La Bamba kept flashing through my mind.
Finally the show started and we were treated to 20 minutes of fireworks. Of course, they scared the hell out my son Hunter so he cried through a good bit of the show. Our girl Payton was mesmerized by the bright lights and deep booms. She was pointing at each one and grinning from ear to ear. I managed to get some decent footage of the show, and I thought I’d share the finale with you. You’ve probably watched it already, but at least now you’ve got the whole story. The finale of the fireworks display here in Grand Junction gives you an idea of the size of our town if you’ve seen the kinds of shows put on by big cities, but overall it was pretty impressive when compared with years past. Of course, I don’t go every year but now that we have kids that may change.
On this holiday, the 4th of July—Independence Day—I’d like to share a bit of my own patriotism with you. There are those who feel that some of my opinions are anti-American, that I just don’t “get it.” These are the same people who seem to think that they have a monopoly on what being American really means. Mostly it means, to them anyhow, riding horses, shooting guns, carrying a Bible, and doing whatever it takes to maintain global dominance.
Sometimes I get the feeling that to these folks being from the Midwest or the South is more a qualification for being an American than actually donning the uniform of our nation’s military services and working, fighting, or possibly even dieing for it. Sure they appreciate our service, so that they can enjoy their sorrowfully egotistical existences free of any requirement upon them to actually serve in her defense and preservation.
Not too long ago, while dining at a popular local eatery, I overheard a group of what I am assuming were farmers and ranchers, discussing politics. Their proffered solution to whatever problem seemed to be nagging at them was to “line up all them Democrats and shoot ‘em.” Of course, I quickly announced my rebuttal that some Democrats shoot back. There were murmurs amongst the wives of the men and a small animal was sacrificed on the far side of their table just to satisfy the blood lust that rose up amongst them.
My point here is that these people have a very strong idea of what America has to be. There is no room for disparity; the unique are only a nagging sort of nuisance. With these people the American melting pot is where unique metals go to be shown why they don’t deserve to be their own kind of mineral. After 8 years of failure, they are still happier with the idea of “staying the course” than allowing a “filthy Democrat” into office.
But I’ve got news for them, and it bears knowing for anyone who lives here in the United States of America. When I joined the Navy back in October of 1998, I took an oath to…
“…support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic…”
And there we have it. I take that oath very seriously, and I feel that the duty that I accepted when I swore that oath extends well beyond my days in the Navy. I may not serve in uniform anymore, but I am still a loyal and patriotic American who does not want to see his 5 years of uniformed service tarnished by incompetent leadership and inexcusable policy, all in the name of American tradition. The Good Ol’ Boys have been relegated to the Good Ol’ Days. These days honesty, integrity, and duty are the ingredients for success in our nation.
So where did all of this come from? Am I trying to tell you that all conservatives are bad, and that we should line them up just as they would to us? Of course not. I recently made a tough decision regarding the integrity of our nation during this presidential election. It involved doing the right thing or protecting a friend from trouble. As much as I love my friends though, I simply could not sit back and watch as he contributed to the corruption of this election.
He knew not what he was doing, exactly. He was participating in the passing along of junk email, and got into some stuff that was highly anti-Democratic. But in the course of sharing what he found to be a thought provoking video about the NRA, he was sullying the name of the Colorado State Government by spreading political propaganda via state computer systems. I will neither name him nor his agency here, that information is not vital to my point.
I suppose that this post is intended to be part apology to my friend and part wake up call to Americans. I am sorry that my actions may have a bad effect on his career, but ultimately I can feel no guilt for this. I was not the one participating in the amoral propagandizing of the Republican party, he was whether he knew it or not. Because I take my duty to defend our nation from all enemies, foreign and domestic, I had no choice but to act. To sit idly by while he unwittingly acted to influence the votes of my fellow citizens in a time as crucial as this would have been unacceptable, and not in keeping with the oath that I took to protect my constitution.
I truly believe that putting a Republican in office again in 2009 will not only divide our nation, but could quite possible destroy it. While I will not go to the lengths of sending out my own propaganda to combat theirs, I will certainly move to squelch such ludicrous movements when they come from sources that are paid for by my own tax dollars!
So, in closing let me say that I am today, and always will be, a fervent patriot for the United States of America. But I must qualify my statement by reminding you that empires will always fall. Be it to an enemy on the field or to political rifts within the very populace, no empire is immune to the erosive nature of time. True, we have something great here in this country, but it is not so infallible as many think.There is always room for improvement. We can’t stop change from happening. It’s up to us to see that the changes that do come upon our nation are put to gainful use.
Happy 4th of July, people. Never forget the service of those who have fought and died for you. Never forget your own duty to support and defend this nation and her constitution, whether you served in the armed services or not.
Last night my wife and I were watching the news and we saw a story together that made us both go, “Wow, cool!” It seems that somewhere in this valley is a good samaritan with a sense of humor and some wealthy friends in the leprechaun community. A local Grand Junction citizen stepped off the GVT bus yesterday and noticed something out of place underneath the bench at his bus stop. He decided to take a closer look; it was the best decision he had made all day.
What the unknown man found was a little, black, plastic pot full of gold Sacagawea dollars. That’s right, he had found himself a little pot of gold on St. Patrick’s day! I refer to him as “the unknown man” because despite my wife and I both having seen the story, I can find no reference to it at our daily paper (Grand Junction Daily Sentinel) nor at any of our local television news station websites (KREX, KJCT, KKCO, KFQX). Apparently it’s not big enough news to keep reporting.
My wife Carolyn and I both thought that this was pretty damned interesting though. To whoever left that little cache for someone to find, I’d like to say thank you! It was refreshing to see a story that was 100% positive! I don’t even known the guy who found your gift, but I imagine that it really made his day! I’ve often thought that if I were rich I would like to spend some time committing random acts of philanthropy like you have here.
This morning I am filled with an exuberance that seems to defy logic! I have become an occasional contributor to a karaoke contest website called Bix, which is part of Yahoo! Actually, it’s much more than just karaoke, but that’s how I got started. My first attempt at an entry on Bix was with a very well known Sublime song. Now, while Sublime may not be the most technical songwriting for a newby Karaoke singer to tackle, it certainly isn’t the easiest.
Of course, I really didn’t have much of a choice because most of the songs available to sing on Bix are just not in genres that I like. I figured that I probably wouldn’t sing a song very well if it wasn’t one that I enjoyed. Then, low and behold, along came Santeria. Now before you click on that link, let me warn you that it’s EXTREMELY amateur hour. It was, after all, my very first online Karaoke attempt. From there I tried a few other songs, including a second song by Sublime.
By this point I had spent a good amount of time on the Bix website and had seen a few contests for singer/songwriters where they wanted you to submit original material. Of course, these were all non-sponsored contests which meant that there was no tangible reward. I didn’t enter them for a long time because I didn’t want to submit material that wasn’t copyrighted to a competition with no reward — that could potentially be compared to dumping money out of helicopters.
Eventually I created a shortened, acoustic version of a song that I wrote for my daughter before she was born. I started my own contest and uploaded my daughter’s song. I was the only one who entered that contest. But, soon thereafter Bix began to advertise a sponsored contest for original songs, this time with a “Holiday Wish” theme. So I quickly took a melody that I had been working on and threw some lyrics on top. It took about two hours to complete the recording of the song, mostly because I had no real equipment. I just recorded through a tiny mic in the top of my monitor. The only instruments on the track are acoustic guitar and electric bass. Add vocals and I had one easy track. Plus, it was short as hell. The video took twelve times as long to make, and I’m still not happy with it.
Anyhow, to make a long story short, it paid off. This morning I awoke at 4:30, as usual, and got up to make coffee and check my email. Low and behold there was a message from Bix with the word affidavit in the subject line. I knew instantly what that meant — they wanted me to participate in the legal mambo! Nobody engages in that judicial boogie without good reason unless they have an appetite for massive migraines. They wanted me to legally verify that it was an original song because I had placed 3rd in their contest. The associated pride that came with placing 3rd was accompanied by a fifty dollar prize! I can’t tell you how stoked I am.
I can assure you that I will be making more entries in the near future. Maybe some of my readers can join me there? I’ve had a great time on that website and I feel that it’s benefiting me in ways other than monetary compensation — although that sure is nice! I’ve played music for years but I’ve never even tried to sing, let alone for an audience (save for a handful of drunken Karaoke episodes in Honolulu years ago), not even when I was a member of a moderately successful Hawaiian punk band, Never Again. Now clearly I won’t be winning American Idol any time soon, but I wouldn’t have had this chance to even hear what I sound like when I sing for real and without that, I would never have learned about what I need to work on. I’m pleased with what I feel has proven to be a viable style of voice for punk music, which is my uber-genre.
Anyway, thanks for your time readers! I hope to see you on Bix in the near future. You might even be my next direct threat in my pursuit of prize money. Good luck to you!
JMK
P.S. I have to make a confession: there were only three entries in that contest that I just won, so I guess that really means that I lost. I don’t really care, but I thought I’d share this in the interest of full disclosure.
