- FEATURE: Quiet casualties
- GET OUT: Jackson X-treme
- MUSIC BOX: Life from the looking glass
- THE BUZZ: The faces of Blair
- GUEST OPINION: Fueling the future
- WELL, THAT HAPPENED: Crafty comedienne
- FOODIE FILES: Lazy August drinking
- Democrats forward three to BCC
- MUSIC BOX: Honkytonk and Ferris wheels
- CREATIVE PEAKS: Cowboy State cool
Props and Disses
Signs of the end times
Jackson Hole, Wyoming – We’re living in the last age here in Wyoming. Of that, there can be no doubt. Referencing Biblical passages, the case can be made quite convincingly that the end is near.
Let’s start with “Earthquakes in diverse places,” referenced in the New Testament. Hell’s a poppin’ in Yellowstone. Earthquake swarms have become a common occurrence within the past decade. And you can’t get more diverse than the wacky geothermal features and abundant wildlife found in America’s first national park. Throw in the oozing Budge Butte and the prophecy is, well, ground-shaking.
What about pestilence, plague and famine? I offer CWD/brucellosis, drones and the severely limited restaurant choices for Westbankers. Does feeding elk pellets in an artificial zoo-like setting so tourists can sleigh ride through the “cafeteria” cause unnatural crowding and promotion of the spread of diseases like CWD and brucellosis?
Drones are a plague, plain and simple. Do we really need them to deliver orders from Amazon.com or drop bombs on Kurds? They are a cowardly and sloppy way to make war. We certainly don’t need them hovering over our ascent of the Middle Grand. And don’t think for a minute we don’t live in the reality of extreme famine. Ever try to get breakfast at Nora’s on a Sunday morning? Osteria and Teton Pines book out weeks ahead in summer’s peak and a romantic dinner at Couloir requires a chalk bag and carabiners.
Mark of the Beast? The hand stamp at the Cowboy Bar. False prophets? The engineer that signed off on Walgreens. The anti-Christ? Fintan Ryan. Wars and rumors of wars? Pick a current lawsuit, any lawsuit.
And finally, I leave you with this damning piece of evidence. Closing our Bibles, let’s invoke, instead, age-old adages like “when pigs fly” or “hell freezes over.” Teton Valley News is reporting Victor will soon be installing its first stoplight (the second in all of Teton County, Idaho) with $1.4 million in federal grant money. That’s going to be one helluva stoplight. Pack the Subaru. It’s the end of the world as we know it.
McDonald for mayor
Stephen McDonald has not drunk the Kool-Aid. Of the sample of mayoral candidates, the bootfitter maverick is probably the biggest long shot to slip his foot into the glass slipper this November. But his campaign, or more specifically, his lack of one, is admirable.
Firstly, McDonald avoids platitudes. That’s refreshing. If I hear one more candidate for office say he or she is for sustainability I’m going to barf. It’s like saying you are pro-equality or against overspending. Duh, you’re for sustainability. Who isn’t? As economist Donald Boudreax puts it in his recent Pittsburgh Tribune-Review piece, ask yourself whether the opposite statement is true in order to ferret out platitude-speak. Would a viable candidate say he is opposed to sustainability, against equality or for out-of-control spending?
Secondly, McDonald is the only candidate for mayor (or any office) who hasn’t mired himself in the housing crisis. Housing the valley’s workforce is the catchphrase of the day but it certainly isn’t anything new. Unless a candidate owns a 40-acre plot in town and has a building permit for the world’s biggest apartment complex already through the arduous planning process, he or she will be fairly powerless to make the classifieds section look any better in the next two to four years.
“People have been here six months and they’re jumping up and down about finding a place to live,” McDonald told an audience at the League of Women Voters forum recently. “Sorry, maybe those guys didn’t do their homework. Jackson is a hard place to live and always has been.”
McDonald also has blasted Sara Flitner, in particular, for the size of her war chest – some 34 grand. “I believe big money steals freedom from the little guy,” he says. McDonald has promised not to raise money for his campaign. We love the “No bullcrap” signs. McDonald’s only stumble is railing against the police force. He comes off sounding like every other 20-something who gets pulled over for a taillight out and immediately blames “The Man” when they are cited for possession.
Look Ma (Bell), no hands
We’ve already “dissed” the ban on cell phones while driving in town, but we still don’t like it. Yes, we know statistics show it’s a lot safer to drive without talking on your phone. It’s also a lot safer to drive without eating, smoking, or disciplining naughty kids in the backseat. Heck, if you really want to be safe, throw your car keys in the pond and lock yourself in the bathroom. Wait, statistics show you’re more likely to be injured in your bathroom than any other place in the house.
Conversations, in general, are what cause distraction – hands-free or not. Banning talking on cell phones encourages texting. Answering a call while driving and fumbling to attach an earpiece to oneself is far more dangerous than plastering the phone to your head and absorbing a slow brain cancer. This seems like an ordinance lobbied for by BlueAnt.