Category: Things that don’t suck

Hands on

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 19 Comments
Many hands make light work.

We smashed the State yesterday. You’re welcome.

Herself and I were part of a crowd guesstimated in the thousands that piled into Civic Plaza for our local Hands Off! rally, taking a raucous stand against fascism.

We carpooled with two friends to the thing, and met up with a few others at the plaza. Frankly, I was not expecting a big turnout — the “high” temperature of 43° just missed the record low, set in 1983, by a single degree — but I was delighted to be proven unsmart as per usual.

In Bibleburg it was easy to think we were the only libtards in town, though we knew better; it just felt that way sometimes. As in almost always, especially during election years.

In Duck!Burg, we’re surrounded by fellow travelers — but even here, with the endless cascade of caca pouring out of DeeCee, some days it seems that no umbrella, no matter how all-encompassing, can keep the stink off you.

So, yeah — even I, Captain Cynicism, was moved to see the throng hooting and hollering along with emcee Robert Luke, legendary activist Dolores Huerta, Mayor Tim Keller, former Interior Secretary turned gubernatorial candidate Deb Haaland, state Attorney General Raúl Torrez, former Albuquerque poet laureate Mary Oishi, and others.

Better than nothing, but only barely.

There were so many excellent, creative, handmade signs in evidence that I regretted dogging it and downloading prefabs from the Hands Off! people. My faves included “Shut Your Heil Hole,” the ever-popular “Elect a Clown, Expect a Circus,” and “Deport This Pendejo,” with an image of everyone’s favorite Swasticar salesman. There was even an excellent “Chingatumaga” placard, which we praised to its grinning creator.

So, props to Hands Off! and their partners for pulling off this nationwide dance party, which grabbed a whole lot of headlines. Now, the question is … where do we go from here? Or as that old troublemaker V.I. Lenin put it, “What is to be done?”

No foolin’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments
Sign of the times.

“Is this how you’re spending your retirement money?” asks my old velo-comrade Charles Pelkey. “Check the sponsor at the bottom of the sign. Bwah ha ha ha.”

Apparently it’s a billboard in Michigan, though it looks like a Photoshop/A.I. kind of thing to me. Wasn’t my doing. Hmm, lemme think here … who do we know in Michigan?

And a Merry Sale it is, too

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 2 Comments
Soma Fabrications (a.k.a. the Merry Sales Co.) is at it again.

I meant to add this over the weekend but got distracted by feline maintenance, grocery shopping, cooking, bicycle riding, and what appears to be a remake of “Lawrence of Arabia” taking place on the property.

Still, better late than never, as the fella says. You can save big on Soma and New Albion frames and forks, but you gotta move fast — the sale ends today.

A month of Sundays and then some

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
The Colorado Mountain College running team’s 2024 graduates: bottom, (l-r), Brooklyn German, Aslynn Wardall; top: Nate Encinias, Harrison Walter, Adaline Fulmer, Paulo Aponte. Not pictured: Kenneth Obregon.

By Hal Walter

For the first Sunday in a month of them, there is no long training run on tap for cross-country or track. There is no homework. There will be no evening commute to Leadville to deliver Harrison Walter to Colorado Mountain College.

The Blur, it seems, graduated from CMC this past Friday with an Associate of General Studies degree and proficiency certificates in welding.

It’s really a strange feeling and I am still processing it all. For the past two years life around here has revolved around Mary and me supporting Harrison through college. We’ve put about 30,000 miles on vehicles in doing so, and untold mileage on our brains. We knew it was a big risk sending him to Leadville to live in a dorm, but anything worth doing is worth the risk of failing. We also didn’t have a clue what we were getting ourselves into.

Between the ages of 62 and 64 I spent about 150 nights in a dorm room. We traveled to six states to watch Harrison and teammates run for the CMC Eagles. As his academic aide I learned how to operate Canvas and Basecamp. I read textbooks alongside him and helped guide him through countless assignments. During both summers I coached him through his running workouts.

All of this was out of the belief that a person on the autism spectrum deserved a shot at a college education and experience. He graduated teetering on the brink of the Dean’s List with a GPA of 3.46 (final grades are not yet in). It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, as he is surely on another Dean’s List for the number of write-ups received, all related to autistic behaviors.

Harrison at Huntsville (third from left). Photo: Hal Walter

As an athlete he left CMC with the school record for the track 10K, and runner-up best times for the 5K and 3K. In cross-country he holds CMC’s third-best cross-country 5K and fifth-fastest 8K, which he ran at the NJCAA National Championships in Huntsville, Ala. He also won the 5K Colorado Cup Snowshoe Race, hosted annually by CMC.

He received the running team’s Most Valuable Runner Award, as well as an award for his GPA and a letter.

And when he wasn’t studying or running he worked part time at Community Threads in Leadville.

There are too many people to thank in this space, but we owe a world of gratitude to his teammates and fellow students, coach and professors, faculty, staff and administration for the patience, support and compassion over these two years. There is a book in the works.

Perhaps rather than a month of Sundays it was an era of Sundays. The future, as Tom Petty sang, is wide open.

Flights of fancy

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 14 Comments
A glider pilot prepares for touchdown near the Menaul trailhead.

I was running trail yesterday, pulling a leisurely U near the Menaul trailhead before heading home, when a shadow fell across my path.

“Holy hell,” I thought. “A buzzard? I’m not dead yet. …”

Then I looked up and saw the glider, tacking this way and that above the spiky foothills, before finally dropping in for a gentle landing.

Good argument for keeping your eyes and ears open, I thought as I snapped a few pix and then got back to my jogging. You never know what you’re going to see up there, or down here.

On Sunday I nearly stepped on my first snake of the new year as I legged it up a sandy arroyo not far from where the glider pilot touched down. He was a little fella and disappeared into the underbrush. The snake, not the glider pilot.

Some folks get their kicks from sticks, if you believe The New York Times. And in this instance I see no reason for doubt. The story wasn’t datelined April 1, and is just ridiculous enough to be true.