The request line is open!
Send me your column ideas and maybe I will do a little research and write one on your favorite topic! Yes, the outsource rage has hit and I am looking for someone to do my work at an incredibly low pay rate, about zero, after and before taxes.
Yes, by popular demand should be by popular demand. I like to write about things that might matter that nobody else has a local angle on. We have a plethora of local columnists who write about themselves and their personal experiences, their vacations, their babies, their dogs, their childhood growing up in Aspen and so on.
I can’t match that: no babies, dogs, no childhood here and my vacations are not very exotic, filled with running, reading, racing and eating near or on the beach — pretty much the good life I have here but with an ocean, warm weather and some oxygen to breathe.
Here’s some ideas I am pondering giving some air time, hoping my readers will give me some feedback and help with some factoids to flesh these out or create their very own stories connecting Aspen to the real world:
- The New Yorker tells us there were perhaps 100 million natives in North America when Columbus arrived down south. Pretty quickly, by any standard, 95 million were gone. Who done it? Mosquitoes. Yup, not that some of our ancestors weren’t above intentional killing and even spreading some smallpox but the real villain was mosquitoes bearing the malaria virus about which not much was known and which was not native. Meanwhile, here in Aspen, we don’t have mosquitoes, rattlesnakes and alligators. We’ll have to make do with bears, moose and a river clogged with yellow duckies.
- Jeffrey Epstein is dead of a possible suicide. For once, the conspiratorists of the left and right are united. The right is already seeing a Clinton angle and the left, a Trump cover-up. This one will combine all the charm of the Vince Foster death, the Pizzagate sex scandal and the intentional destruction of the twin towers on 9-11-2001! The sad thing, the women victimized by Epstein in their youth won’t have the affirmation of a judicial outcome to vindicate their abuse. How long will it be before someone in Aspen gets connected to this conspiracy?
- Some are asking the new city council, which has only been in office a few weeks, to pick a city manager to help change Aspen. Silly me, I thought that’s why we have elections every few weeks, to elect people who have lived here forever rather than the average of eight months for the three manager finalists, none of whom can give directions to tourists to where the White Kitchen, Little Annie’s or the Popcorn Wagon used to be. Public response so far: yawn. Only a handful of people showed up for the public presentation of the finalists, all of whom are talented but none of whom came here to join city council.
- Hey council, you want change? Be the change. Make some decisions, let the staff carry them out. I know the city manager gets paid more than all of you combined, but the buck stops at your extra large table. Besides, I don’t think there will be a Sara for city manager T-shirt worth collecting or a Drew Gorgey yard sign, so how can they possibly claim the mantle of leadership?
- Solar panels in Woody Creek? We all know by now that Woody Creek consumes no energy, causes no traffic, generates zero employees and never abuses the environment give or take a 10,000-square-foot mansion or 20, accessed by whisper quiet, fuel-sipping private jets and serviced by empleados who don’t even count for three-fifths of a full-time employee as far as the Orange Haired One is concerned. Let Aspen do the green thing, the employee housing thing, the bus rider thing.
- E-bike mania. Some are calling for getting the e-bikes off the bike/ped/dog/baby carriage path. Right now, there’s room but I don’t know what happens when the creators of this new form of havoc manage to build a 50 mph power plant into the darling little contraptions. At least one bike shop is exclusively e-bikes and it won’t be long before the friendly bike mechanics around town are rocket scientists like everyone else in Aspen. I can’t keep up with my baby sister and her e-bike, sweet revenge for those days when I was the one waiting at the top of the Maroon Bells e-bike path. If you see me out on the highway on my trusty Pinarello, extended over the aero bars trying to ride the speed limit down Highway 82, it’s just a nostalgic quest for my own safety from the days before bike paths had traffic jams of their own.
Mick Ireland welcomes your column ideas at firstname.lastname@example.org. Leave the Trump bashing to John Colson and the fantasy to Paul Menter, please.