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