Jackson Hole Underground

An adult circus came to town Saturday, as the Yard Dogs Road Show mixed music and theater in a saucy revue at the Jackson Hole Playhouse.

Gypsy burlesque drew nearly a full house. All weekend, from the Whodunit? show at the Art Association to the Pangea video campfire at LMC gallery, found people thirsting for art in all its forms. Mountain dwellers are restless for spring, even if Mother Nature is not.

The Road Show’s vaudeville was perfectly tailored for the Playhouse, a fantastical theater straight out of the Old West. Here is a slide show from the performance.

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Now in its third year, the Alpinist (née Barry Corbet) Film Festival has been a model for how to build such an event: organic, paying homage to tradition, rooted in the community. No velvet ropes.

Screenings have been packed, last year’s festival was a smash hit, and organizers are expecting a full house this week for all three nights of films in the brand-new Performing Arts Pavilion at Center for the Arts.

As of Monday evening fewer than 100 tickets remained for each night. Thursday is devoted to snow films, Friday to surf, Saturday stone.

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The first women to set me straight were older women. I was hitchhiking. A convertible hauling four sunny babes pulled over. They made room for me in middle of the back seat. They had me surrounded.

Boy, did they take advantage of me. They joked about their body parts. They mentioned “periods” in a non-punctuation context. They acknowledged familiarity with the sex act. Before they were done with me, one of them farted and they all laughed. My ears glowed red. I was 15. These libertine women were perhaps as ancient as college age.

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