Friday, May 20, 2011

Spirit in the Sky

I'm posting Song Saturday on Friday on the off chance the world is ending.  Of course I know it won't because the Mayans have pointed us to 2012 and I haven't finished my spring cleaning

The billboard around town has been touting this harder than a studio gearing up for the Oscars. To believe it, the faithful will be snatched up and the rest of us will be left here to endure a hellish experience - the selection of a credible GOP presidential nominee.  I guess the most memorable ascendant experience I had was witnessing from afar Hunter Thompson's ash launch.

Both big fans of his writing, especially his trenchant analysis of American politics, Tim had spent time with him in the 80's in San Francisco.  Those were the days of Hunter's stint with the Mitchell Brothers and the 1984 Democratic Convention which nominated Walter Mondale (running the spectrum from titillating to boring). 

Our trip was eventful - Tom Petty concert at Red Rocks, I-70 closed due to rockslides, side trip to the Broadmoor, Rocky Mountain National Park and Hall of Fame for Figure Skating.  When I-70 was finally opened, we zipped through and were on the down side of the continental divide narrowly missing a small plane near Vail that skipped off the freeway in front of us before coming to a rest by the side of the road.  Typical of the strange brew that seemed to be our travelling companion, most particularly on that trip.

It was not unusual that John Kerry walked by in a baseball cap on his way into the Woody Creek Tavern.  No entourage, just a lone figure who was recently a Presidential nominee.  He looked down - I remembered the swiftboating.

That night, the tower with the peyote fist started glowing then spinning and then came the fireworks and the launch of his ashes.  Going out with a bang.  To the strains of Spirit in the Sky and Mr. Tambourine Man. Tim's comment:  "I can smell the bastard."  Said in love, yes.

I won't forget watching the spectacle that 
August night from our selected spot on
the side of the opposite mountain.  Another memorable vacation.  They always were.

It must be Saturday somewhere and I am still typing.  Another much-hyped non-event like Y2K.  
Ho-hum.  Another day, another dollar to extract from believers to fill the coffers anew.  Another day, another way to explain why Jesus didn't come this time.
No doubt it's Obama's fault.

For your listening pleasure:  Norman Greenbaum's
Spirit in the Sky - love the fuzztone opener.


  1. Another day, another dollar to extract from believers.

    True that. Cocksuckers; the lot of them. I've always held (I know Tim would agree) that preachers and prostitutes are really the same; they both bugger something for money - only the prostitute can claim to have provided a legitimate service which can be measured against some form of real benchmark, no matter how subjective.

    "I can smell the bastard." I hope someone's there to say that at my own cremation....


    See you in hell....

  2. Let's not forget that we've got until 6:00 pm to feel the wrath of Rapture...hold on tight, it's a'comin'.

    Hilarious: "...the rest of us will be left here to endure a hellish experience - the selection of a credible GOP presidential nominee." That has to be one of the best (and truest!) lines I've ever read!

    What a silly, distracted, bizarrely-focused world we live in. Like the 40 Virgins, this Rapture rap is hell-bent on the idea that we need post-death fairy tales and sparkle promises to get us through the agony that is real life. I will never begin to understand the pull and power of religion at its most insane but it has certainly been fodder for comedians, twitter followers and anyone who has the humor to plan a Rapture Party!

    Your Hunter Thompson memories are poignant, as are all your memories that include Tim...

    Go get your spring cleaning done. There'll be plenty of time. xxoo L.

  3. hmmmmmmmm LOVE that song :)

    I had to laugh at all the facebook messages stating "yep still here". Harold and I celebrated the impending doom by getting our rock on at DC101 chili cookoff. Rock music to miss the rapture by perhaps? especially if one was listening to Papa Roach.

    I love your memories of Tim. Perhaps in another lifetime, I'll have the opportunity to meet him.

  4. I really love your writings ... thank you for letting me 'virtually travel' with you, and Tim, and transcend time as well as space, through your words, Cris ...

    And I could share many jokes I heard about those fundamentalists and their 'ascensions' -- just one, though -- has anyone suggested to them that maybe they didn't 'ascend' because they're not 'worthy'? ;)

    But I'd rather focus upon and consider Dylan and the Byrds -- I always loved their version of 'Mister Tambourine Man' the best :)

  5. Love your thoughts and writing! there are so many many blogs out there, but yours is one of the best. Even though you only pop up now and then, your thoughts are interesting and personal. Oh my. I wish we were closer.
    I lived near Red Rock - went to see the place, but not the concert. Feels like a metaphor for me life - skipping around looking at things without necessarily taking part. That plane crashing in front of you is crazy! I drove that road four times by myself - or actually 6 if I count the time I went to Vail for the weekend. Anyway, I remember once it was just closed down for several hours because of a rock slide. And then all along the rest of the way - when it opened- there were warnings of more rock slides. Pretty freaky when you're surrounded by enormous walls of rock. Isn't it gorgeous there? Sure would like to do that drive now. Feeling nostalgic today, and most days for the last 4 years. Hope to see you soon - in August maybe? Will you be around then - suffering the Chico heat?

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