Press "Enter" to skip to content

More about that June issue

Letter by Clay Warren

June 99 edition – July 1999 – Colorado Central Magazine

More ’bout that issue


At the request of both of my faithful readers, ah’m retuning to the word processor to try an’ inject a little humor into the pages o’ Colorado Central. Fer them other three people who were wonderin’ why ah ain’t written much lately, grief has a way of cutting into yere sense o’ humor and priorities too.

All that aside, ah realize that yere new comic strip [On Mountain Time] is directed toward that area o’ humorous concern. However, this being a literary rag o’ sorts, words are needed.

Plus, ah personally, find the story in them little boxes to have two flaws. One, hit is more like the mentality o’ Frémont County than Chaffee (where many of our recently arrived jeeters is a lot more obnoxious than them two yuppies). And two, hit is all too true ta be funny.

Now ah realize that the magazine is concerned with regional situations and not jist them arising here in the navel o’ the universe, which is why yuh gives so much attention to the CRT and Burro Chasers. But ah do applaud the wisdom o’ Marcia and the Editors for not over-covering the attempt by Roberto Kennedy to “save” the people of Capulin from the horrors of Summitville, which the Denver Post cannot seem to restrain itself from doing.

Hit’s the same sort o’ relationship like Princess Diana and the Tabloids had — where factual, objective reporting just ain’t enough — so thet poorly supported suppositions is allowed to pass as fact ’cause royalty has spoke hit. In this particular case, ah do see the beginin’s o’ a non-existant new suit o’ clothes that will be described in glowing terms for personal political reasons.

Those viewers which are able to keep up with the letters in the local paper might see some similarity between the comments o’ yere Norm Wallen piece inside the front cover and several recent contributors to The Mountain Mail. They is all pretty damned selective about which freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution they want enforced. In Wallen’s case he ain’t concerned about freedom of association, private property rights, and commerce between States, but sure as hell seems to think his personal secular religion, Planning and Zoning, which I don’t recall seeing mentioned in my copy of the Constitution or Bill of Rights, should take precedence over them that I do find in thar.

One o’ my favorite national awards is the Darwin, given to the person who does the most to improve the gene pool o’ the human race. Thet bivy sack incident certainly points towards a future nominee. Unfortunately hit, the Darwin thet is, gets awarded posthumously, and near misses don’t qualify.

However, to git to the two main topic’s o’ the June issue — three-way mountains and Columbines — in the space allowed, ah got to move on.

Hit seems eminently reasonable that the triple drainage divide mountain should be named. Having said thet, it is also more reasonable that hit be named after the guy which furst brought hit to the attention o’ the readers o Colorado Central.

Conscientious viewers will agree, an long before some late-comer named Sanderson got in the act, that the honor is due that water pilot himself, George Sibley. Why, the very idea o’ Three Rivers anything in Colorado fairly brings forth visions o’ Pittsburg, an we already got enough outside influences as hit is. Furthur, hit is obvious that the Editors is lookin’ fer help in that they want some fool to blurt it out; so ah will. It ought to be called either Sibley’s Divide or George’s Point and let’s be done with hit at that.

Speakin’ o’ fluids, ah have to say that ah have always admired Quillen’s ability to find an excuse to visit a bar, but ah stand in awe of him getting Tom Noel to pay for the drinks under the pretext o’ Ed helpen him with the tax deducible research! While the book might be an easy guide for the lazy er them lackin’ an adventurous spirit, ah prefer to do my own explorin’ in that regard. In the same vein, ah have tried to visualize Peter Simonson o’ the Victoria Tavern whirling anybody, ‘cepting maybe a dwarf, over his head and throwin’ em out the door. Ah would purely have liked to seen thet blond amazon Zelda, do it.

We will leave the county seat debate alone ’cause it is apparent from the written support of Bunie in this edition, that there is no honor among thieves. Ah mean, Salida took it legal, which is more’n Bunie can say, see’in as they stole it from Granite with a 95%-plus voter turnout. I realize we’ve gone downslope in election participation, but ah don’t believe fere a minute we’ve slid from such an historic height.

Lastly we get to Columbines and perversions thereof. Columbine is a lovely and unique name, an’ any kid so called should feel lucky. They cudda gotten Lisa, Linsay, Meggen, er sum such popular an undistinguised handle instead. Like Quillen, ah wish the implications o’ Columbine ended thar.

However, the only way to put an uglier face on events in Littleton is to examine what political evil President Slick, his party, and them spineless Republicans have concocted in the wake of the tragedy. Seeing as how hit wuddn’t some inner city minority kids which perpetrated these crimes (at least 19 existing felonies, most o’em federal, in the process) we got to respond by slapping more useless laws on the books. Even for a gullible fool like me, hit is obvious that laws don’t prevent crimes and the last time ah looked they was plenty o’ penalties for murder and school vandalism in the State as well as Federal statutes already. We done made a scapegoat out of the NRA and its members, will probably continue to demonize the shooters parents who might deserves some of the credit, fail to prosecute the gal who made the straw man purchases o’ them shotguns and the rifle, and the upshot will be that the Country’s remaining kids won’t be a damned bit safer.

Ah can only hope, an’ you all better do so too, that the evil little bastards of the world don’t ever discover gasoline bombs. ‘Cause we’ll all be walkin’ ta work afterward if they do.

Yer’s till FIBARK Clay Warren Pseudonymous in Poncha