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Show / DECEMBER 2003-JANUARY 72004 PUR eager 9 THE CANYON ee COUNTRY TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT... ZEPHYR P.O. BOX 327 MOAB, UT 84532 Jim Stiles, publisher (435) 259-7773 www.canyoncountryzephyr.com cezephyr@frontiernet.net ee Teac Aa aes KenSleight Nye aca te) ap istaU you tatra Cactus Rat Scott Silver Wendell Berry Martin Murie Katie Lee Dan Rosen’ Mark Steen Philip Hyde Chinle Miller Willie Flocko Alexandra. Woodruff Lance Christie Ann Wendland & the Heath Monitor Files historic photographs Herb Ringer(1913-1998) Zephyr pilot/aerial reconaissance Paul Swanstrom webmaster A.L Woodruff subscriptions G transcriptions Linda Vaughan circulation Moat: Marianne Apadaca Salt Lake City: Nancy Jacobsen Colorado/Arizona: Ken Hodges G Mark Anderson THEZEPHYR, copyright 2003, allrights reserved. The Zephyr is publishedsix timesa Ney at Moab, Utah. The opinionsexpressed herein are not necessarily those of its vendors, advertisers, or even, Las tileme stop testo All photos and cartoons are a publisher unless otherwise noted. The masses feel that it is easy to flee from reality, when it is the most difficult thing in the world. Jose’ Ortega y Gasser 1883-1955 By Jim Stiles VIRTUAL MOAB-AN ALTERNATIVE FUTURE My apocalyptic vision of the future in the last issue seemed to disturb more than a few of my friends who thought I was being too gloomy—ON THE ONE HAND, they all thought I was right, that 2039 AD would closely resemble my projections, but that it was too disturbing. Well, isn’t that the way it always is? Tell the truth and everybody squirms...when will I learn? But this time of year, it’s possible to forget about the future, or even the present. Even Moab gets quiet in the wintertime—not like it used to be. But then, what is? By the time this edition reaches the streets, in fact, the deadly silence will have most left most Moab merchants in a panic, as they do each and every winter, as tourist traffic dwindles to a trickle and the bills continue to pourin. And so sane and serene Moabites will actually look forward to, anticipate, even long for the return of thousands of narcissistic fitness buffs who show up for our annual masochistic rite of Spring, the Half Marathon. Imagine sixteen hundred brightly clad runners pushing and shoving their way down Route 128 along 13 miles of asphalt to the finish line and glory at the Moab City Park. A man recently called one of the race organizers to complain that he could not find a motel room to rent in the entire town of Moab. "The whole town is booked," he complained. "What am I going to do?" "About the best you can hope for," explained the weary race official, “is a motel room in Green River and commute to town." There was a long pause. ‘I'm sorry, miss," he said stiffly. "That won't do at all." You are pleasantly relieved to find that the Virtual Marooney is just as frightening as the legend he has become . When he turns to each of you and says, regardless of race, color, creed, gender, or national origin, “Have you ever done it with a virtual fat guy?" before he's even handed you a menu...you know you have a Virtual Reality system that is nothing less than "top of the line." Elsewhere, other virtual travelers like yourself are buying virtual goods and services from Moab merchants who are squirreling the money away so they can someday retire to Bull Head City, Nevada. Virtual real estate developers are selling virtual condo lots like an elephant goes through peanuts to happy second-home happy buyers from across the nation. Back at the Dos, two hours and too many virtual Margaritas later, you head for the Slickrock bike trail. But when you get to the virtual Sand Flats, you discover that every virtual law enforcement officer in southern Utah is up there as well, heavily armed with enough virtual fire power to turn your virtual reality into a really bad dream. But upon closer inspection, you di that your own virtual people, the thousands of virtual party-hearty maniacs that you came here to commune with in the first place, far outnumber the virtual Law. And so you break out your virtual cases of beer, which you consume in massive quantities until you become so ill you think you're going to puke your virtual guts out. "What a virtually awesome view!" you say to each other. "This is going to be a great day for some serious virtual biking.’ So please understand my lack of enthusiasm for The Big Race. I realize, for the most part, that this is my problem. That I didn't come to live in tourist mecca. That, in fact, lam a living anachronism. That I am clinging hopelessly to the past. To a simpler time. To a slower time. I’m screwed. I'm not completely anti-technology. I’ve had a love/hate relationship with a computer for a decade now. .I know how to push 27 buttons in different combinations to produce copy for the Zephyr. I’ve been getting on the internet for five years, the Zephyr has a web site, | even tried to find True Love on the world wide web. I check the Drudge Report daily, watch the LiveCams in Perth each morning, and finally, after years of fear and vacillation, my friend Lynn Shafer EMTs from the Grand County Search and Rescue Squad discover you and your friends the next morning under your Saab, where you are hovering near virtual death from virtual alcohol poisoning. Your blood alcohol countis an astounding .37 (virtual). A LifeFlite chopper whisks you away to LDS Hospital in Salt Lake, where you make a slow but complete recovery from your virtual brush with death. forced me to learn how to scan photos so I could quit bugging Marge ran a cop, you were sexually harassed at a Moab restaurant, you at the Printing Place with last second scanning requests. So, there are certain aspects of this new technology that intrigue me. I am particularly interested in the "virtual reality" concept. I realize that the system is inits early stages of development, but it may be the answer to my prayers. There will be a time in the future, I hope and pray, when a trip to Moab will be as simple as strapping ona pair of goggles and slipping on a pair of gloves. Imagine, if you will, the Virtual Reality Trip to Moab for the Weekend... You and your loved ones need to do little more than move the kitchen chairs into the living room for the ride of your life. Engage the system and you're on your way. The virtual trip to Moab is a breeze. Your virtual Saab Turbo gets you to Moab in three hours flat. A virtual cop at Soldier Summit makes a futile attempt to pull you over for speeding but you leave him far behind in a virtual cloud of blue smoke. (Your Saab needs a virtual ring job-great news for the virtual mechanic) As you make the long descent into the Moab Valley, you see for the first time, Moab’s new virtual tram rising majestically behind the virtual uranium tailings pile, climbing to the top of the Portal. “What a virtually awesome view," you say to each other. "This is going to be a great day for some serious virtual biking.” "Virtually radical," you all agree. But first, how about.a bite to eat? Unimpressed by all the new virtual fast food chain restaurants that have sprouted like a virtual © fungus all over Moab, you head for one of your favorite virtual Moab restaurants, the one that doesn’t even exist anymore---the Dos Amigos Cantina, where you are greeted by the virtual (and versatile) owner of the establishment, MichaelJ. Marooney. (Even though Marooney left town more than five years ago and now lives in the lap of luxury in Southern California, there’s no reason, in the Virtual World, to deprive you of a unique and unforgettable experience.) About now it's time to take off the goggles. And all you can say is: Wow! What a weekend getaway! Look at all the fun you had. You out injected much needed cash into the Moab economy, you ate too much, you partied too long, you trashed the Sand Flats, you peddled your butts off, you almost died, and you discovered the secret to Randall Carlisle's weird hair-do. And, best of all, you never left your living room. Back in peek, ae pot for the weekend hit an all-time high. M I y hase the jack rabbits in the empty alfalfa fields south of town in the very space occupied by those lovely fakeadobe, Santa Fe-style virtual condos. Maybe the future isn't as grim as I thought it might be. The virtual future, that is. CAN SMALL TOWN BUSINESSES SURVIVE? Ron Maupin has been a regular advertiser in The Zephyr since Volume 1 Number 1, almost 15 years ago. He owns the Haggle of Vendors antiques and collectible store on Main Street in downtown Grand Junction. He also served on ee a Junction City Council and wasits Mayor. Despite i Eonbothiendsorine city, the Haggle continues to flourish, but even Ron wonders for how long. Right now, national chain stores are adding one million square feet of new retail space, a couple miles west of downtown and it is bound to have an effect on all small businesses. Everything from sporting goods to name-brand eateries are sprouting in these multiplex malls. As Ron notes, “There are dozens of wonderful restaurants in the downtown area, for example, that are sitting empty or half-filled right now. eee Imagine a future where the iE PAGE2 people are standing in line to get a seat at the Olive Garden... Why is the inclination of ae lie to patronize the bland and the boring? Where every restaurant, every store looks the same from coast to coast? One would think such uniformity would be.a -detraction, butin American Culture in the 21* Century, itis more than : an attraction-it seems to be a necessity. And the price we pay for our lack of imagination is a world where small privately owned businesses are on ie verge of Suen J oe r |