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Thursday, July 19, 2012

Detritus

trash swirls in our creek
a broken forty ounce beer bottle
and a discarded flash drive
perfect symbols of the have
and have-nots
opportunities vs despair
meaningful work & compensation vs hopelessness & painkilling

back to my computer at work
while the lillies of the field toil not, neither do they spin
throwing forties in the creek

Monday, July 16, 2012

Independence Pass

     I was leaving Aspen, Colorado on a lovely morning, heading out over Independence Pass. The road wound through aspen forests at peak summer green, the morning sun creating that special light through translucent aspen leaves which isn't quite as beautiful in other types of trees. A fox with a fresh kill in its jaws trotted along the shoulder. I couldn't tell what the unlucky prey was, a female mallard or a muskrat, perhaps. I had to u-turn back for another look. The fox gave me a suspicious glare, I obviously wanted her muskrat. I cruised on, not wanting to disturb a hard-won meal.
     I thought about the people I had seen at the Aspen Food and Wine Classic Grand Tasting event I'd been to the day before. Affluent people from all over the world had come to this event, and paid a hefty price to attend a week-long gourmand's delight.  My sister had gotten us passes to the Grand Tasting, a huge food, wine & spirits sampling party with hundreds of vendors trying mightily to catch the fancy of the rich opinion leaders, thereby positioning themselves for success. The first sample handed to us was a shot of tequila in a carved cucumber for a container. We had dressed convincingly tony (good thrift stores), so the vendors fawned over us liked we'd paid for it. My sister had won the tickets from the Aspen Fire Department, where she volunteers.
     The other women there looked like Real Housewives reality show stars, with tanning bed tans and many unnatural racks, beautifully dressed. Many were also unnaturally skinny, not eating the wonderful foods offered them. Gorgeous and insecure, kinda sad, really.
      Not me, I parked myself at the truffle sellers, joyously. Truffles are one of those upper crust foods that really do exceed, it's like a mushroom that died and went to heaven. They were giving out truffle brioche mini sandwiches and pieces of cheese dipped in truffle-infused oil. They were delighted with my great delight, and everyone who asked me what was good got sent there. Then I spent time with the Wyoming ranchers who were serving an incredible grilled beefsteak on crackers with mildly pickled ginger and an excellent soy/wine/ginger sauce. I drank cabernet, chianti, Averno, three kinds of Stella beer, and Patron, on the rocks, mmmmmmm. I should have been trashed, but I guess I'd eaten enough to buffer the alcohol's worst effects. Then on to my other favorite truffles, those of Godiva. They were sampling several new ice cream flavors of truffle, I really enjoyed the banana split candy. Two hours went by like nothing, then the DJ announced the event would go on an extra hour. As the vendors began to break down the well-decorated tables, my sister and I were given several lovely bouquets so as to lighten their load. Princesses for a few hours, we were all smiles.
     The fox jumped over a concrete blockade and continued uphill through the aspens with her prize, probably to a den of hungry kits. I drove up and over the pass, thinking of meals I had had to kill, render, and cook myself. They tasted better.