Podunk Meets Paradise

Musings from Central Idaho

Archive for the tag “Salmon Arts Council”

Police Blotter – 2/16/12

The Salmon weekly, the Recorder Herald, disappointed today in the policy blotter section, and that doesn’t happen very often.

I mean there was the pre-requisite roadkill call, “Person hit an elk on the highway at approximately mile marker 325.”

But compared to the 12/29/11 blotter … “Man said he was trying to locate a telephone operator that he could talk to in person, not an automated voice message because there was nothing that fits his needs.”

or

“Man reported that his daughter got up this morning and was disoriented and drove off in his vehicle.”

…this was nothing. Fortunately, I turned to the letters to the editor section. Floyd L. Bones is an old man in town and he’s kind of an angry stalker. And a hater. He hates my fabulous organization Salmon Valley Stewardship, the Lemhi Regional Land Trust, the Salmon Arts Council, City Council, County Commissioners, BLM, Forest Service, School District, the president, and so on.

His latest letter is titled “Depopulating Lemhi County.” Floyd accuses a wide range of conspirators of pursuing the fantastic Agenda 21, a United Nations-inspired plot to depopulate Lemhi County, where by the way, all 8,000 of us are crowded into a space as tiny as Pluto, which may or may not be a planet.

But the crazy thing is, I can’t even argue with him because he lined his letter with a silver bullet. Before signing his letter, he inserted this pithy Arthur Schopenhauer quote: “All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is self evident.”

So, drat, if I give into temptation and make comparisons between Floyd Bones and Mike Myers playing Mike Myers’ crazy Scottish dad in “So I Married an Axe Murderer” ….

Stuart Mackenzie: Well, it’s a well known fact, Sonny Jim, that there’s a secret society of the five wealthiest people in the world, known as The Pentavirate, who run everything in the world, including the newspapers, and meet tri-annually at a secret country mansion in Colorado, known as The Meadows.
Tony Giardino: So who’s in this Pentavirate?
Stuart Mackenzie: The Queen, The Vatican, The Gettys, The Rothschilds, *and* Colonel Sanders before he went tits up. Oh, I hated the Colonel with is wee *beady* eyes, and that smug look on his face. “Oh, you’re gonna buy my chicken! Ohhhhh!”
Charlie Mackenzie: Dad, how can you hate “The Colonel”?
Stuart Mackenzie: Because he puts an addictive chemical in his chicken that makes ya crave it fortnightly, smartass!

… I’ve already played into his hands and moved my piece to Stage 1! Argh, the craftiness of it all.

I’m doubtful that even a sneering gasbag could nudge me to Stage 2, Violent Opposition, but I am an especially patient woman, and it’s possible that Mr. Bones repeated references to some of my more spirited colleagues as “moral prostitutes” could merit a swift kick in the gunnysack.

Then, there we go, we’re Stage 3, Self Evident Truth. Played right into the bastard’s hands.

My freshman year at Whitworth, I eagerly signed up for Constructing a Philosophy of Life. As a 19-year-old, Schopenhauer’s general conclusions about our natural inclination toward irrationality didn’t sit well with me. I was hoping for something a little more orderly. A few decades later, I should probably thank Floyd Bones for the re-introduction.

To reciprocate, I’ll offer a favorite quote myself.

“I’m telling you a lie in a vicious effort that you will repeat my lie over and over until it becomes true.” — Lady GaGa

A visit from the Good Lovelies

When you live in the deep interior West, sometimes you have to pay people to come visit. Fortunately, the Salmon Arts Council paid the folk/roots trio The Good Lovelies to visit Salmon last night. Arts venues are in short supply in Salmon so in winter months, the Elks Lodge is known to double as concert hall. These Canadian girls were fabulous and seemed to find the appropriate amount of humor in the stuffed trophy elk staring at them from every possible wall surface. Even though they had just days before been notified they’d been nominated for a Juno (that is Canadian for “award”) for best Roots and Traditional Album of the Year, they were incredibly good sports about playing at the Elks, visiting our schools, and maneuvering the tour bus around wildlife.

I like it when Canadians joke around and are pleasant and don’t complain about Americans who don’t know anything about Canada. Just in case, I was prepared to shout out “Stephen Harper is the prime minister!” after an impromptu quiz in British Columbia where I guessed the Queen of England was the president of Canada and nearly got my ass kicked. Then why is she on all your money? We were in Costa Rica several years ago and found out the reason Canada has such a low density population is because they were all hanging out in Costa Rica. We struck up friendships with a few couples that always ended up with the Canadians trying to get us to admit that our imperial American scheme was to get our grubby hands on their Canadian wheat fields. Clearly, if we wanted the damned wheat fields we could have  seized them while their citizens were loafing around Central America.

The Good Lovelies should be credited with not only sweet harmony, but elegant diplomatic relations. Long live the Queen!

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