It's true that Telluriders almost always believe that the ideal Telluride would look an awful lot like the town they saw when they first came here. For me, that magic year would be 1988. The town seemed much more free and easy back then, layed back but ready to party or play like mad at the drop of a hackysack.. Hippies danced in the park with abandon and life was full of enchantment and wonder. In other words ,I was much younger then, and whatever I was learning and experiencing at the time was easily projected in my mind out to the world surrounding me. It would not just be difficult to recreate my original Telluride, it would be impossible. You could tear down every building built since then and restore what's left to there exact 1988 glory and purpose, but there's no getting me ,or anyone else, back into our lovely well chiseled 1988 bodies and faces, let alone back into our eighties frame of mind. What's past is past, the rest is nostalgia.
This reminds me of the Telluride Art and Architecture weekend. I hope you made it. Maybe you'll consider coming out to a future A &A . To some extent, all the festivals on our busy calendar highlight the uniqueness and beauty of this valley and the little town that adorns it, but this one in particular celebrates Telluride for all it is and once was. To Kate Jones ,who envisioned this magic festival and with her dedicated staff, Britt Markey, and Molly Perrault ,make it happen, and to all the many talented participants, my profound gratitude.
I could go one of two ways at this point in the column. I could use the Art and Architecture weekend to segue my thoughts on the spate of construction and destruction going on around town this summer. The problem with that train of thought is that I don't know where it's going. I suppose I could always just start in with it and see where it takes me. That could be fun. The problem is there are more serious thoughts on my mind. There are more serious issues out there . Yes ,there are worse things happening than the noise and inconvenience caused by the construction crew down the street. There are worse things happening even then the empty lot next door that's being turned into yet another Telluride maximum square footage, three story box. In short ,there's the news from Baton Rouge, from Nice, and from Cleveland.
As human beings we are uncomfortable with taking full blame for our actions ,or lack of action, in my case . I've never met a three year old, however adorable, that wouldn't do just about anything to avoid accountability when something gets broken ,lost, or spoiled, and there's no doubt who the culprit may be. No honey, I don't think the dog did it this time. We grow up. We grow in lots of ways, but this infantile trait tends to stay with us more tenaciously than most. We just get better at masking our need to avoid the pain that comes from blame. We can even fool ourselves, and we do.
Whole textbooks and treatise have been written about our avoidance strategies. We transfer the blame. We project it on others. We wallow in victimhood. The greater our failings, or perceived failings, the greater our shame and quilt and the greater our urgency to pass it on. We identify a likely scapegoat, or obsess on the power and evil intentions of the perceived oppressor. The worse our enemies, the better we come off. Are you responsible for your rotten life? "Hell no" is more and more the answer as we discover that the system is surely rigged against people like me. It can't be me, it's got to be "them".
This sounds to me like Trumpism. It sounds a little like what all the other snake oil salesmen out there are selling too. How do you spot a successful politician? They're the ones who relieve their constituents of any necessity to find fault with themselves and move it adroitly to someone else .Wall street bankers caused the great recession. Mexicans took our jobs. Infidels corrupt our youth with their cigarettes, alcohol, short skirts, internet pornography and Coca-Cola. The cops are racist. The prison system exists to keep the black man down and enrich others. It's all claptrap! It's all cleverly designed to entrap willing minds. We'd rather believe anything but the truth. We'd rather point fingers than admit that we are all free to act for ourselves. Tell the public that they make their own beds and see how many votes you get.
So there you go, Cleveland, Baton Rouge, and Nice, all tied up in one pretty little bow.
This reminds me of the Telluride Art and Architecture weekend. I hope you made it. Maybe you'll consider coming out to a future A &A . To some extent, all the festivals on our busy calendar highlight the uniqueness and beauty of this valley and the little town that adorns it, but this one in particular celebrates Telluride for all it is and once was. To Kate Jones ,who envisioned this magic festival and with her dedicated staff, Britt Markey, and Molly Perrault ,make it happen, and to all the many talented participants, my profound gratitude.
I could go one of two ways at this point in the column. I could use the Art and Architecture weekend to segue my thoughts on the spate of construction and destruction going on around town this summer. The problem with that train of thought is that I don't know where it's going. I suppose I could always just start in with it and see where it takes me. That could be fun. The problem is there are more serious thoughts on my mind. There are more serious issues out there . Yes ,there are worse things happening than the noise and inconvenience caused by the construction crew down the street. There are worse things happening even then the empty lot next door that's being turned into yet another Telluride maximum square footage, three story box. In short ,there's the news from Baton Rouge, from Nice, and from Cleveland.
As human beings we are uncomfortable with taking full blame for our actions ,or lack of action, in my case . I've never met a three year old, however adorable, that wouldn't do just about anything to avoid accountability when something gets broken ,lost, or spoiled, and there's no doubt who the culprit may be. No honey, I don't think the dog did it this time. We grow up. We grow in lots of ways, but this infantile trait tends to stay with us more tenaciously than most. We just get better at masking our need to avoid the pain that comes from blame. We can even fool ourselves, and we do.
Whole textbooks and treatise have been written about our avoidance strategies. We transfer the blame. We project it on others. We wallow in victimhood. The greater our failings, or perceived failings, the greater our shame and quilt and the greater our urgency to pass it on. We identify a likely scapegoat, or obsess on the power and evil intentions of the perceived oppressor. The worse our enemies, the better we come off. Are you responsible for your rotten life? "Hell no" is more and more the answer as we discover that the system is surely rigged against people like me. It can't be me, it's got to be "them".
This sounds to me like Trumpism. It sounds a little like what all the other snake oil salesmen out there are selling too. How do you spot a successful politician? They're the ones who relieve their constituents of any necessity to find fault with themselves and move it adroitly to someone else .Wall street bankers caused the great recession. Mexicans took our jobs. Infidels corrupt our youth with their cigarettes, alcohol, short skirts, internet pornography and Coca-Cola. The cops are racist. The prison system exists to keep the black man down and enrich others. It's all claptrap! It's all cleverly designed to entrap willing minds. We'd rather believe anything but the truth. We'd rather point fingers than admit that we are all free to act for ourselves. Tell the public that they make their own beds and see how many votes you get.
So there you go, Cleveland, Baton Rouge, and Nice, all tied up in one pretty little bow.
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