Thursday, October 13, 2005
Every day, messages come down from heaven saying I should keep my mouth shut, and yet, I continue to noisily flap.
The latest lightning bolt came via Troy Hooper, who I mentioned briefly in a column about the Hunter S. Thompson Cannon Contest three weeks ago. Hooper was the organizer of said contest. Hooper sold the rights to the essays written for the contest to filmmaker Blue Kraning, who told me during filming that Hooper had questioned the timeliness of his interest in making a documentary about the contest entrants.
I wrote: "When Kraning approached Hooper about filming the people who entered the essay contest, Hooper wondered why he would bother."
Hooper asked that I make a correction. He wrote: "That's not accurate. I sold him the letters a couple of weeks after the cannon contest got under way, which was well before the ash blast. Nothing was over at that point in time, and I would never say anything involving Hunter is over. ... The truth is, I encouraged Blue to film Hunter's fans, and I am assisting with the filming of the project."
Selah. And I'll shut up now.
Rumors have reached the adult world that one of the coolest teenage bands in Steamboat Springs, Noise Pollution, will play at Steamboat Springs High School's Homecoming dance this weekend. Special guest Melissa Walsh on electric guitar will join the band.
Because it would be creepy if the over-30 4 Points staff showed up for the show, I'll just wish them good luck from my post in my rockin' cubicle.
Arriving late, leaving early
I'm sure you've done it. You're at a party or an event, and you suddenly get that strange "alone in a crowded room" feeling. So you just walk out.
Then, you're at home and you get that "now I really am alone, maybe I shouldn't have left" feeling. But it's too late.
That was me Friday night. I arrived late to the Free Friday Film Series screening of "Ma Vie en Rose" and ended up sitting on the stairs because all the seats were taken. When the credits rolled, I stood up -- my backside solidified from lack of blood flow.
I stepped outside to un-numb and found myself walking toward home. Ever since, I've wondered what happened next. I wondered what delightful conversation everyone had without me.
I'm such a loser. (Which seems to be the theme of this week's On Scene.)
-- Autumn Phillips