Thank you to everyone who offered support Saturday on the Square. I didn’t realize there were so many Mets fans in Wyoming.
Perhaps bolstered by the prayers, the Amazin’s went out and defeated the Blue Jays 6-5 on Sunday. (Or maybe it was the presence of David Wright in the lineup.) Lord knows the Mets need all the help we can give them.
Unlike the wack jobs from Kansas, the sign bears a message of hope and faith. As any Mets fan will attest, You gotta believe!
The town’s decision to restrict free speech last summer backfired horribly, giving the zealots what they seek most: conflict. Having raised considerable publicity and cash following their organizers’ arrest, the crazies announced their intention to return to the Boy Scout antler auction and ElkFest on May 19. And even crazier crazies joined the fray this week.
Before Brad and Jackson Hole United took action, several of us had discussed exercising our right to free speech in concert with the protests. Send a message using the contact tab above if you want in. It ought to be amusing.
“Rather than feeding the hatred and ugliness that the abortion protestors thrive on, we will surround and drown them in love and compassion!” reads the purpose of Protecting Elkfest with Love. Add humor to the mix.
Levon Helm raps the skins with help from Galactic drummer Stanton Moore.
Back in 2010, I wrote about the anticipation of seeing Levon Helm perform at Jazz Fest. I had just watched The Last Waltz for the first time.
Helm and his band gave a set at the New Orleans Fairgrounds that was practically a mini-Last Waltz, with guest after guest coming out on stage to lend support and play with the revered drummer and mandolinist. Pianists Dr. John and Allen Toussaint, participants in the original farewell concert by The Band, were among the cast, along with Galactic drummer Stanton Moore, who pounded the skins alongside Helm for nearly the entire set.
Then 69, the gravelly voiced Arkansan had been battling throat cancer and looked frail, but his spirit was inextinguishable. His smile shone from behind the drum kit, and he played with an intensity that belied his condition.
“Oh, you don’t know the shape I’m in!” he bellowed to start the set. The Band classic was fitting on many levels, not only given his health, as the grin on his face suggested, but, this being a Sunday after a long weekend in New Orleans, for the audience as well.
Move over, Donald Trump, Michelle Bachmann, Herman Cain and the rest of the cast of the tragicomic reality show that has been the Republican primary.
Rick Santorum’s come-from-behind resurgence has thrust Jackson Hole’s own Foster Friess into the limelight. The financier and philanthropist, Santorum’s main financial backer, has burst onto the national stage, giving interviews to the networks nearly every day.
With his 100-watt smile, ardent faith and forthright honesty about his beliefs, Friess has become a star, outshining perhaps the candidate he supports. Talking bluntly and enthusiastically, the Teton County resident has endeared himself even to the so-called “liberal” media, winning kudos from Chris Matthews and a positive profile on the front page of the New York Times.
Anyone who knows Foster or has been to one of his annual “Robust Rooster” luncheons knows he loves to tell corny jokes. He even told a pretty funny one about Mitt Romney at last week’s conservative convention.
But yesterday, he bombed, as he often does (he is the first to laugh at himself). Only this time the entire country has been listening. On a day when a tone-deaf California congressman convened an all-male hearing on birth control, women especially didn’t find Friess’ remarks funny.