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A-18 The Park Record Meeting and agendas Sat/Sun/Mon/Tues, January 27-30, 2018 More dogs on Main By Tom Clyde TO PUBLISH YOUR PUBLIC NOTICES AND AGENDAS, PLEASE EMAIL CLASSIFIEDS@PARKRECORD.COM WSD Board Meeting Weilenmann School of Discovery will hold a meeting of its Board of Directors on Tuesday, January 30, at 5:30pm. Address is 4199 Kilby Road, Park City. The public is welcome. Ski filmmaker Miller dies Friend Jim Gaddis remembers prolific ski film pioneer SCOTT IWASAKI The Park Record Warren A. Miller, who became one of the world’s foremost ski filmmakers and spokespeople for the sport, died Wednesday at his home on Orcas Island, Washington, according to a statement from Warren Miller Entertainment. He was 93 years old. Miller, who was raised in the Depression era, earned global acclaim and a multigenerational fanbase for his annual ski films, which have kicked off the ski season for more than 60 years. The films screen across the world, including in Park City, and feature Warren’s acute humor and vision as skiers descend, and sometimes ascend, the various international slopes that appear in his work. Jim Gaddis, a multi-medal-winning national champion alpine skier, ski coach and founder of Gaddis Training Organization, which evolved into the Park City Racing Team, said Miller started the snowball that turned into the ski-movie genre. “He made people aware of what skiing was, and showed a multitude of places, even weird places, where you could ski,” Gaddis said. “He also added a lot of humor to the sport, which I don’t think other moviemakers did prior to that.” Gaddis worked with Miller on fundraisers in the late 1960s, before Miller became a ski-film mogul. “We sponsored his movie to raise funds for the (GTO) kids, before he got really expensive,” Gaddis said, laughing. “I did that for two or three years, and we raised pretty good money for the programs.” Gaddis remembers seeing Miller before he became a filmmaker. “I knew he was a ski bum and lived in a car and a tiny trailer in a sleeping bag because he couldn’t afford to stay in those nice lodges in the ski resorts,” he said. “I know he camped out at least two winters in Alta.” Warren’s talents cut a wide swath beyond ski filmmaking. He produced more than 500 films in all, primarily covering outdoor pursuits, including surfing, sailing, and other water sports. As an artist, cartoonist and author, he wrote some 1,200 columns and 11 books, the most recent publication a memoir called “Freedom Found.” Miller was a World War II veteran, a ski instructor and racer. He was also an accomplished surfer who took up windsurfing in his 60s. He was also a champion sailor, and turned to destination motorboating when he was in his 70s and 80s, and exploring COURTESY OF WARREN MILLER ENTERTAINMENT Ski filmmaker Warren Miller died on Jan. 24. the Northwest and Alaska from his home on Orcas Island. Miller is survived by his wife of 30 years, Laurie, his sons Scott (Melissa) and Kurt (Ali), his daughter, Chris (David Lucero), his stepson, Colin Kaufmann, three granddaughters (Valeska, Kasimira, and Jenna) and two grandsons (Alexander and Ryan). Shedding light on a crisis Van Tassell effort to study opioids passes committee JAMES HOYT The Park Record An effort in the Utah State Legislature led by Sen. Kevin Van Tassell, R-Vernal, is looking to shed light on a different side of the national opioid crisis. Van Tassell, whose district covers much of Summit County, is sponsoring S.C.R 4, a state Senate resolution aimed at recognizing, studying and preventing postoperative respiratory depression, a potentially fatal sleep apnea-like side effect that can accompany doses of opioid painkillers prescribed after surgeries. On Tuesday, the second day of Utah’s legislative session, the resolution passed out of committee unanimously. Yvonne Gardner, a Vernal resident who lost her son, Parker Stewart, to the condition in 2016, testified in support of the bill in front of the Senate Health and Human Services Committee. “(My son) was a very healthy 21-year-old and, as his mother, I couldn’t understand how he showed up at my house the night before he died happy and feeling well,” Gardner said. “The next day, I got a call from his wife saying he wasn’t breathing. ... When I got over there, the EMTs told me it was too late.” Stewart had taken half of his recommended dose of painkillers after a tonsillectomy, according to a medical examiner. Six months later, his cause of death was ruled pneumonia. Not satisfied with that explanation, Gardner dug deeper and came into contact with a California professor who had been researching opioid side effects. She came to Van Tassell with the idea for the legislation later. “I’m hoping with this bill ... we might be able to find the rest of the puzzle pieces and find the exact cause before there are more deaths,” Gardner said. Michael Catten, an ear, nose and throat doctor who helped create the resolution, along with representatives of the Utah Department of Health and the Utah Medical Association, spoke in favor of the bill as well. Van Tassell said in an interview that the bill is necessary because respiratory depression is an understudied part of the national conversation around opioids, and as someone with sleep apnea himself, he recognizes the dangers of the condition. He said if the bill passes, the Legislature will send it to Congress as a model for future policy. Intermountain Healthcare, the state’s largest healthcare provider, has set its own goal to reduce the amount of opioids prescribed for pain in 2018 by 40 percent. Sen. Allen Christensen, R-Ogden, a dentist whose district stretches into Summit County, said in the course of the testimonies that he and his wife have different prescriptions for similar symptoms and cautioned against treating patients with one-size-fits-all solutions. “We want to treat all people as if they are machines, and they are far from machines,” Christensen said. High drama shutdown Last week’s shutdown of the federal government was as strange as any move Sundance served up. The mess has become so institutionalized that it’s easy to forget what it’s about. The primary function of Congress is to adopt a budget for the federal government. The federal budget, like your own, is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to priorities. If you want to travel to Europe this summer, but you spend all your money on a kitchen remodel, you are likely to be disappointed. Aligning your spending with your priorities leads to getting what you want. So Congress is supposed to work out the federal budget. Elections change the priorities, and depending on who got elected, we might spend more on highways or pollution control, or more on military hardware and border patrol. Those priorities shift around because they are supposed to, based on who gets elected. Congress hasn’t adopted a normal budget in decades. They get into quarrels over priorities, and if one congressman can’t get the kitchen remodel, the other isn’t going to get the new car. Then they throw parliamentary tantrums like twoyear-olds. We actually pay them to do this. Because Congress won’t do its most basic job, the government operates on short term continuing resolutions, almost indefinitely. There are a few little tweaks here and there, but mostly, they courageously vote to keep doing whatever we did last year for a while longer. There really aren’t any priorities. The drama in Congress last week was over another short term continuing resolution so they could avoid adopting a budget that was supposed to have been in place last October. The Democrats said they would only vote to keep avoiding adopting a proper budget if they could attach a bill that addressed the status of immigrants who were brought into the country as children. Their parents may have been “illegals” or whatever the current politically correct term is, but the kids were just along for the ride. Obama addressed that situation administratively, which freaked the Republicans out. Trump reversed the Obama rule, and said Congress had to adopt a real statute on it by March. The actual bill isn’t controversial, but the Republicans won’t let it come to the floor for a vote. It became a parody of news. Never have so many covered so little for so long. They want to connect solving the DACA problem to billions in funding for the wall on the Mexican border (that Mexico was going to pay for, according to the President). And everything went to pieces. Cable TV covered the shutdown with breathless urgency. It was portrayed as a steel-cage grudge match between Chuck Schumer and Mitch McConnell, two of the most boring and unappealing people imaginable. I was captivated by the coverage. It became a parody of news. Never have so many covered so little for so long. When the vote on Friday failed, the government was out of money, and the lights went out. It happened over a weekend, so in reality, nobody noticed. It lacked impact. There was supposed to be another vote late Sunday night. I tuned in to see what was happening. MSNBC had run through their entire bench of onair people. There was nobody left at midnight Sunday. They normally run infomercials that time of night, but they were live. The anchor was an intern, and the panel of experts was three random people pulled in off the street and the cashier from the cafeteria. With great drama, the vote was delayed until Monday morning. It would be Tuesday, at the earliest, that a bill could get through the Senate, the House, and be signed by the president. Holy cats, the government is closed. For one whole workday. Anarchy! Except it wasn’t. A few national parks were closed, but mostly they stayed open with limited services. The gift shop closed at the visitor’s center. Oh, the humanity. By Tuesday morning, everything was back to normal. The Democrats caved, which they always do. Congress boldly enacted another temporary patch, dodging their responsibility until Feb. 8, when the money runs out again and it all blows up. The theory is that this time is different. This week, there will be a big kumbaya moment. All our problems will be solved in two weeks. Or the government will run out of money on February 8. If it’s worth shutting things down, let’s really shut things down. Close air traffic control and the TSA. Ground the planes. Pull the meat inspectors out and let the grocery stores run out of bacon. That tax cut you were expecting won’t happen if the clerks at the IRS aren’t working to figure out the new withholding rates. It probably will take that kind of trainwreck to get people angry enough at Congress to throw the bums out in November. But it would be worth it. l Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column since 1986. sunday in the Park By Teri Orr In and outside the story... I have written by the light of the screen — for years. The big screen — the theater movie screen. In programs and playbills and the back of envelopes. Sometimes I can read my scribbles just enough to piece together how I was feeling while watching. And other times ... I find I have written over the same page, multiple times, and there are letters dancing upon letters in different colored ink and with different intensity from the pens I have used. This year I thought I was prepared. I had collected a stack of tiny notebooks. A red leather-ish Moleskine one I had been given — a bundle of Field Notes booklets with plain brown covers. I wrote in them all. Sometimes all in one direction and then I would turn the notebook upside down and start from the back. Sometimes kinda sideways. The notes aren’t always to write a mini review of movie — sometimes I want to listen and make notes while directors and actors speak in Q&A sessions — when the lights were up. Those notes are only slightly more legible. And then there are events where important people speak and I want to capture those words. What Robert Redford said at the Sundance Film Festival’s Utah Women’s Leadership Celebration — that he felt he was at a tipping point in time. He also laughed and said he thought getting an award meant he wouldn’t have to speak ... Redford did talk about the person in his life who never gave up on him — his mother. He said he dropped out of school and “got in trouble” and didn’t see much of a future for himself — but his mother always did. “She always thought I would do something good.” And now, he says, we are at moment in time to honor and respect women — “It is time for women’s voices to be heard ... time for men to stop talking and start listening.” And the room of mostly women gave him a standing ovation. A dozen Utah women were also honored for their accomplishments — from the first female sheriff of Salt Lake County, to the woman — complete in her dress cowboy hat — whose family sold their property to the Nature Conservancy but allowed Heidi to run her generational family’s 350,000-acre ranch at the base of Canyonlands. We all hooted and hollered for her. I made notes on all that. Most notes in those tiny books reflect the films. Like “Wildlife,” based on a novel by Richard Ford. It was treated on the screen with the sparseness Ford’s novels are known for. It takes place in 1960 in Montana during a period when a teenage boy’s father is out of work and his mother takes up with a car dealer after For days on end we have lived as a town in a movie. A crazy caper filled with characters who are smart and funny and rude and crude and angry and thoughtful. his father leaves for six, maybe eight, weeks to fight a wildfire up in the mountains away from the very, very small town they have moved to. It has the spare bones and tight dialogue that allows for a lot of emotions to find their way through. The music might have been Patsy Cline, the couch with the cabbage flower upholstery, the curlers in the mother’s hair are all carefully telling a story too. I find some notes written sideways ... The mother says, as she drives her son up into the fire camp to be in the blaze ... “I hope your father doesn’t burn up like a piece of bacon.” Then she cuts the engine of the car and lets her son walk outside and hear and smell and feel the force of the fire rapidly burning up everything in its path. The power and fierceness of nature. And you know — somehow in that moment — that woman is gonna leave her pedantic life where she has spent perhaps 20 years building up her husband who has bounced from job to job and avoided bill col- lectors at each turn. She is gonna find/be/create her own wild life. I have always loved Shakespeare — I cannot say I have always understood his works — that would be ridiculous — no one on the planet should ever be so presumptuous. But I love the stories within the stories. The plays on words. The morality lecturers delivered as a soliloquy. The intrigue and the romance. The history told in story form. When I saw the film “Ophelia” was on the schedule, I made time in mine to be in the audience. The film is based on a novel by Lisa Klein. In Shakespeare’s version, the tragic, beautiful, slightly drifty, mysterious teenage girl who loves Hamlet kills herself when she thinks he is dead. In this version, you get a sassy outspoken feminist in the Queen’s court who knows all the secrets and who has an entirely different ending to her strong story. There are pieces of dialogue that are Bill Shakespeare’s words but the author has crafted variations on those themes and given them modern lift. “You’re a lady in waiting” a character says to her, “Learn to wait.” The costumes are elegant — even the peasant’s. The cinematography is lush and imaginative. I scribbled on the paper in the dark about a shot of Ophelia floating in the pond face down, and the shot was taken from underwater — a mirror image of what was taking place above. Flowers floating ... hair flowing. It was stunning. For days on end we have lived as a town in a movie. A crazy caper filled with characters who are smart and funny and rude and crude and angry and thoughtful. The scenery has changed from sunny to snowy not quite on cue but close enough. And the storyline — well that continues to be a work in progress for a few more days at least — including this Sunday in the Park... Teri Orr is a former editor of The Park Record. She is the director of the Park City Institute, which provides programming for the George S. and Dolores Doré Eccles Center for the Performing Arts.