Posted: December 12th, 2013
Utah, Park City … high up in yonder mountains … frigid temps still; still in quest for respite for bodily parts afflicted by arctic blast. I’ve made it to a Starbucks across the parking lot from the hotel. Barely. It is 3 degrees. I have a monkey grip on a steaming hot cup of coffee. My fingers are thawing but my face still feels as though it’s been injected with Novocain. I shouldn’t ramble on. I know better. People have a lot more troubles than me. Back in Denver, outside the Ogden Theater on Friday night, there was a homeless guy panhandling. It was 10 below with a slight wind. I wonder how he made out? I wondered why he sought no shelter or if he even cared to. Is it supposed to be my business? Then there’s the woman next to me. She’s in a world of trouble. I know because she’s talking so loud the entire section of the coffee shop can hear her. She’s holding her hand up limp in the face of another woman with her. It is limp, I presume, because of the weight of the chunks of stone set into the hunk of gold wrapped around her poor finger. What gemstone should she add to the diamond and ruby and sapphire and emerald setting she asked? I almost said, “jade,” but instead downed my coffee and left. To hell with the cold, there was a show to put on.
Besides, there’s no need to be jaded. I’m up in Park City, an old mining town turned sky resort, high in the Rockies. Silver placed Park City on the map, but snow turned the streets into gold. Funny how things turn out. Park City is where they held the Winter Olympics (whenever that was), or some of the competition. But it will forever remain special to me as the place where they filmed Dumb and Dumber, part of it, anyway. And, there is your favorite band, who has taken a liking to playing here. Downtown, around 7,000 ft. above sea level, is the old art deco War Memorial Building, a WPA project from 1939, and present day Park City Live—the venue where moe. plays. Logistically, it’s a tough place to load in the equipment, up a narrow alleyway around the back side of the building, but it’s nice and roomy inside … and warm.
No, I had nothing to be jaded about after all. Even when that bastard started crop dusting the merch table about 20 minutes after the doors opened. That was right about the time the earthquake that nobody felt struck. True, I read about it the next morning. I figured I was too busy waving off the stink from the crop dusting to feel it. I’m sure the people outside were too busy shivering and stomping their feet in the long line to feel it, and were happy enough to get inside to hear the music.
And there was some inspiring music played—Stranger Than Fiction, Downward Facing Dog, Haze, later on a really nice morph from Y.O.Y to Silver Sun to Carol of the Bells. There was also a savage rendering of Meat that sent the crowd into a frenzy. That’s one song that seems to send people over the edge most nights. It’s a nice send off, I suppose. Good enough to push off to San Francisco, where the mirth and merriment will continue with a little more jingle, jingle.