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Love it or hate it: The ’80s

Love it

I was dressed in pleated acid-washed jeans and my sister had a hairspray-shellacked mullet. I loved to mix and match my scrunchy socks so the colors played off my puff-painted Keds, and my mom rocked giant angular shoulder pads. I’ll admit: The fashion wasn’t always on-point in the ’80s. But so much else about...

Embracing ambiguity: How to avoid the world’s letdowns

Living with ambiguity can be hard. Look no further than the dating scene, where no one involved can figure out if that thing that just happened was a date, and where shadows of “she likes me ... but does she like-me like-me?” loom.

Overall, there seems to be a general reluctance with ambiguity in our culture, in favor...

Love it or hate it: Reality TV

Love it

It’s not that I looove reality TV. It’s that I hate to love it, for providing so many otherwise out-of-work actors with jobs, for starters. And nothing delights me more than when one of them accuses the other of going on a show like “The Bachelor” for the “wrong reasons.” What could be more honorable than going...

Get Smart about coffee roasting

OK, Fancy Pants. You like single-origin, fair trade, bird-friendly coffee from places you can neither pronounce, nor point to on a map. But let’s face it, you don’t know your ass from Ecuador when it comes to roasting the stuff. Let owner/head roaster Sage Anderson of 81301 Coffee Roasters set you straight.

How long...

Love it or hate it: Hipsters

Love it

I recall a time I was living in Brooklyn, riding my vintage Peugeot alongside my skinny-jeaned, bearded, bean-ied boyfriend. We had an uncomfortable encounter with an older bearded man in thick black-rimmed glasses who shouted from his clean silver Prius: “Get out of the road! Ya hipster!”

It felt so...

Get Smart about old-time music

It ain’t bluegrass, youngster. But it ain’t not bluegrass, either. It’s what Bill Monroe’s uncle would’ve played. Let Fort Lewis art professor and Six Dollar String Band fiddler Tony Holmquist learn ya straight and proper.

How did you get into old-time?

I was playing bluegrass-style banjo in a few bands when I...

Album review: Running, “Wake Up Applauding”

Running, “Wake Up Applauding”

Available: Jan. 15

Label: Castle Face Records

Being a teenager in the pre-Internet ’90s meant that you consumed music differently. Vastly so. Maybe you coveted the music section in Thrasher or picked up regionally-made-and-traded zines from your local record store. Hopefully,...

CTRL-A: Transcending his celebrity, Bowie opened doors to beauty

I have this thing about refusing to care when famous people die. I’ll read the news, scratch the side of my face, then fret over the number of crisps left in the Pringles can that my hand is stuck in and forget about the dead famous person du jour.

It probably stems from my overall disdain for celebrity culture, our...

Transcendent and electric: Remembering David Bowie

It’s early and I’m drinking coffee in the sun when a friend shoots me the message: David Bowie died.

Nah. Not this morning. Not possible. But I search the headlines and it’s true. I see his chiseled face in story after story of remembrance and my heart falls as I realize what the world has lost: Our Ziggy Stardust, our...

Love it or hate it: Flying

Love it

I dig flying. Air travel is my ticket to ride to far-flung places of mind-bending excellence, and the journey begins at the departure curb. Inside the airport, I love pondering the mish-mash of humanity – mullets and headscarves, coveralled pot-bellies and stiletto-heeled fake tits. Business guy on his phone,...

That sweet spot of discomfort found in the frigid Animas

Last Saturday morning, I found myself in quite the peculiar place: Completely submerged in the Animas River.

I wasn’t rescuing a child or a dog (are you crazy?) or raising money for a charity. It was just me and some friends and colleagues in swimsuits jumping into the frigid river because ... well, I don’t really know...

Savage Love: What you do in the sack doesn’t prove you’re a feminist

I’m a 45-year-old straight male. Politically and socially, I consider myself an ardent feminist. There is nothing I enjoy more than giving a woman an orgasm or two. I’m very GGG and will cheerfully do whatever it takes. Fingers, tongue, cock, vibrator – I’m in. If it takes a long time, so much the better. I’m OK with all of...

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