| OCR Text |
Show Sat/Sun/Mon/Tues, March 5-8, 2011 The Park Record m% MORE DOGS ON MAIN By Tom Clyde Is that spring in the air? mping Subscribe to The Pari< Record and get the paper delivered to your home! Or subscribe to our E-edrtJon and get the paper onlinel 104 Issues Twice weekly for $48.00 In summit County •£0£?P:'J£> Email us at circulatlon@parknecord.com for more details . 5 V " r M ; •:v'pV:; '•' • •••, ' - • * Silver Lake Village This has been quite a winter. The snow is stacked up everywhere, and I'm running out of places to put it. It's piled as high as the tractor can lift it, and the windrow on the side of the road is taller than the blower can shoot over. With each storm, I'm losing a little more ground. If it keeps coming at this rate, the road to my house soon will be no wider than a bicycle, which is only a problem because I need to get a propane delivery truck in here relatively soon. Skiing has been very good, and the cold weather has kept the snow in good condition with the exception of that dismal rain in January. The contrast in mood between skiers and non-skiers is pretty stark this winter. For those living in town minutes away from great skiing, where there is an arsenal of big equipment clearing the streets and hauling snow away, it doesn't get any better. Out in the hinterlands, like my house, where you plow your own snow and the heavy winter means livestock are eating more hay than usual, things are not quite so rosy. As the roads narrow and the haystacks and woodpiles begin to run out, cabin fever is setting in. Roofs on outbuildings that haven't required shoveling in several years are now being cleared for the second time this season. After that -30 night, water pipes have frozen in a few places, and every time you turn the tap, there is a real sense of relief when water actually flows. Nobody has resorted to cannibalism, yet. But I've noticed that when I encounter neighbors at the mailboxes, the conversations are short, and we look at each other in a slightly different way. When someone asks, "How are you?" there is a reluctance to say, "Fine." Instead, it seems prudent to suggest that you might be infected with mad cow disease or something similar that would disqualify you from future menu appearances. But we are into March now and there are signs that winter's grip is loosening a little. The days are significantly longer. The other night, I was walking the dogs Nobody has resorted to cannibalism, yet. But I've noticed that when I encounter neighbors at the mailboxes, the conversations are short, and we look at each other in a slightly different way." and heard the blackbirds singing in the willows along the creek bed. The glacier on the roof ot the house is grinding its way to the eaves. Once it starts moving, spring can't be far behind. I think it was Churchill who said that nothing is as exhilarating as being shot at without result. I gained a new appreciation for that sentiment the other night driving home when I was in a minor accident. I was on S.R. 248, just starting the climb over the West Hills to Kamas. Coming towards me, about 200 yards ahead, a car fishtailed, then completely spun out. He did at least one and a half rotations before slamming into me. He hit hard, right on the front wheel of my truck. The other car was an older compact car, and apparently was made entirely out of Lego bricks. I think there are still bits of plastic raining down on the highway. Fortunately nobody was hurt. Two men were killed at the same place a week earlier. There were other cars coming in both directions that somehow managed to avoid piling on. I've been driving for better than 40 years, and this is the first accident I've had. The other driver and I were able to deal with the situation pretty effectively in terms of making sure nobody needed an ambulance and getting his car out of the way so nobody, else plowed into it, That calm lasted just long enough to deal with the emergency. The wave of fear hit a few minutes later. The next day I went to look at the truck. It looked completely normal, but when I drove it, the steering wheel was cocked about 45 degrees off straight. It will drive in a nice, tight circle to the right all by itself, but it doesn't want to turn left- The local mechanic says it's toast. The insurance company thinks it can be fixed. I guess we'll see. It's terrifying how quickly something like that can unfold, and how little you can do about it once it's all set in motion - even when you can see it coming. I was nearly stopped when he hit me. If either of us had been going even a little faster, the result could have been a lot different. We still have several weeks of winter weather to deal with. Can we all just slow down a little bit on the slick roads? Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column for nearly 25 years. SUNDAY IN THE PARK By Teri Orr More news of the weird from Austin The Chateaux's Exclusive Private Luxury Club RESIDENCES The Residences at The Chateaux offers deeded l/6th ownerships starting at $275,000.* Apres Ski Open Houses Thursdays & Fridays 3:00 - 5:00 in The Residences Preview Center •Ownership pricing subject to change without notice 7815 Royal Street East, Deer Valley 866-658-8555 • www.cliateauxresicleiices.coni When last I left you, Gentle Reader, I was in Austin, Texas, with my two adult children celebrating my 60th birthday. The story continues ... On Day Two, my daughter had planned a stroll through Austin's botanical and sculpture gardens. It was misty and strange in the emerging timeframe: no longer winter (there) but not yet spring, Plants cut back, pansies up and blooming. Fish ponds deserted - save one giant grandfather Koi, semi-frozen, slowly circling in a pond. The sculptures were strange with giant hands and heads. We were reflective and took separate paths and didn't chatter much. Next stop, the quintessential barbecue spot - The Salt Lick. Huge portions on wooden tables. A hill country winetasting followed and then back to the hotel to change for the evening. We had tickets across town for the opening of the new theater for Austin City Limits. The featured entertainment? Styx. Yep. Remember "Music and Lyrics," the Hugh Grant movie a few years ago about the aging rock star? It was like that. Very funny. >lade funnier by adult beverages. And a bit of a busman's holiday to see how others run a venue and an event. Back at the hotel for a late-night supper, I was suddenly in the middle of a heated debate by my two adult children (which, by the way, is really an oxymoronic expression). I had no idea they felt the way they did and I was impressed with their arguments, and their passion. And their knowledge. It was worth the price of the trip. Sunday was a late brunch in the historic Driscoll Hotel. Created by a cattleman. Marble floors and polished wood harkened back to a time when folks wore starched white shirts and dresses with lace collars. As the afternoon rolled around, we rolled up to Lake Travis to a spot we were told was THE place to watch the sun set. Honestly, I was happy to take the drive but rather skeptical. I mean, at my age, I have seen many suns set in many places. And it turned out to be the tackiest place we visited in Texas (and trust me, we visited more than a few tacky places). Plastic cups the During her discourse, she said, 7 decided years ago, I could be happy or I could be normal. I chose happy.' And the weird wisdom of all that seemed so Austin." size of Big Gulps for overpriced adult beverages are always suspect on an outside deck. But the evening was nice and we ordered a snack and we talked about walruses and kings or other such stuff. And before we knew it, a big, orange, round yolk appeared, playing hide and seek among the clouds. And then it happened. The clouds parted, the giant orb - so close, so round, so burnt orange - started dropping into the lake and it was spectacular. I have never seen a sunset so startlingly different. When the sun hit the lake and. disappeared, the deck burst into applause and we joined them. I thought of an old Ziggy cartoon, where the Ziggy character sees an amazing sunset and says, "Go God! " It was like that. Dinner was at another place on Lake TYavis, -awardwinning with regional specialties, that a Park City foodie had recommended. "If it moves slow enough, we'll grab it and serve it up," said the waiter. Which explained the rattlesnake appetizer but not the transcendent honey lavender cheesecake. At one point over the weekend, we had, as a taxi driver, a South American woman who was putting five children from her first marriage through medical and law schools while helping raise-her stepdaughter in this country. She said she planned to retire in Ireland with or without her current husband. He is welcome to come, she said, but added with a wink that he doesn't like to travel. She sang to us and offered her thoughts on her father-in-law, who had never accepted her because she Latino, who was about to be inducted into the Rodeo Hall of Fame. (This was only a 15-minute cab ride, at most.) During her discourse, she said, "I decided years ago, I could be happy or I could be normal. I chose happy." And the weird wisdom of all that seemed so Austin. The gift my children (and their families) gave me, of their unstructured, undistracted time, for enough days , on end to have full and significant conversations, was priceless, I have a couple of photos to treasure, a new pair of cowboy boots to walk in, and a new appreciation of two contributing, high-functioning humans who did a remarkable job of figuring out things on the planet. Enough so that they continue to leave me in awe of their kindness and wisdom most every day, including Sundays in the Park... Teri Orr is the director of the Park City Performing Arts Foundation thatprovidesprogramming for the George S, and Dolores DorS Eccles Center for the Performing *Arts. She is also a former editor #/The Park Record. X) |
