- Feature: Life appraised
- THE ARTS: Skeletal scenes
- MUSIC BOX: Muy caliente
- GET OUT: Open trails
- The Foodie Files: Standing on morel ground
- COSMIC CAFE: How can I ‘spring clean’ my psyche?
- Jackson, Wyo., gets Jack White
- THE BUZZ: Spreading the love one T-shirt, toothbrush at a time
- PROPS & DISSES
- MUSIC BOX: Upcoming mega music fest is labor of love
Gallopin’ Grandma: Best Ball Buster goes to Grandma
JACKSON, WYO – The higher ups of this paper recently published their annual survey of the things that their readers like best about Jackson Hole. While it’s true that this area has many wonderful things and awesome residents, and there are many ‘bests’ to be had, I must, at the risk of being savaged at the powers that be, inform readers that “best” is a relative word. It is based on personal bias and judgment and may not really mean good; it just means better than what ever else is out there.
For instance, when I grew up in the hinterlands, picking the best restaurant depended on the fact that there wasn’t much choice, and also how picky you were. Restaurant No. 1 was in the hotel/bus stop. Nice waitresses but they were on the large side and they called my father by his first name, which irritated my mother to no end, and she was convinced that if something happened to her, he would marry one within a week because he was the most inept person alive.
Our next choice was one of those old places with the high-back oak booths and a window full of cremated plants and dead flies.
Another restaurant was the Maidrite, which you would know if you are from Iowa. They made sandwiches from frizzled hamburger with onions and pickles on a bun. My mother said it was unsanitary, this from a woman who ate lunch at a drugstore lunch counter that had a resident cockroach. Now, how you pick the best depends on how much you like dead flies or resident cockroaches.
Want to pick a favorite theater? We had two choices, the Collegian, which was clean, had a candy machine, air conditioning, and was on the nice end of Main Street. The other one we called the Bucket of Blood. It was filthy, showed B movies and serials and was on the wrong end of Main Street. My parents thought I was too fair a flower to attend there. The best theater here depends on how much you want to sit on a seat covered with wads of gum and goo to see the latest cowboy movie.
Here are some other best things to think about: There is a best man at a wedding. What is he best at? Why isn’t the groom the best man? Is somebody else better than he is? I’ll go no further on this one.
I’ve also known a number of people whose last name was Best. Are they better than anyone else? Some of them thought they were. We lived near a little store that grew into Best Buy after a tornado blew it to smithereens. Even then, we knew its best wasn’t always best.
I have nothing but congratulations to those who were best in this survey. You are great and really deserve the honor, but remember, fame is fleeting and tomorrow it may be gone. Sad, but true.
Here’s a “best” you can’t argue with – Best Grandma: me. Personal bias of course, but don’t argue about it, you know I’m right.