“The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”
Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy
by Luke Schmaltz
On February 17, 2020, Jason Stoval — aka Sid Pink — landed in Paris for a close friend’s 40th birthday celebration. Stoval is an acclaimed Denver-based producer, director, filmmaker, musician, writer, actor and MC. The occasion was to span across numerous days, as a small, tight-knit group planned to meet for dinner, then depart the next morning for some high-end winter recreation at the Swiss border. The trip was beyond the scope of Sid’s finances but, ever the innovative shoestring artist, he found a way to make it work. His role was to be that of a babysitter for a friend in the group’s four-year-old daughter in exchange for travel and accommodations. He would forgo the alpine antics and instead, take care of the youngster all day while the grown-ups whooped it up on the slopes for a week. Fair trade.
A Mysterious Detour
A bit of light reading helps Mr. Pink regain his vocabulary.
On his first evening in the City of Light, however, things went dark. Sid was the senior member of the group and was determined to not begin his adventure with a hangover. So, he left dinner early and headed back toward his hotel to get a good night’s sleep. GPS records of his cell phone movements, however, show a detour to a local lounge and then a second subsequent location. He eventually got into an Uber around 3 a.m. (not called from his phone) and was dropped off in an abandoned parking lot. The driver, who was not “on the clock,” was quoted by authorities as saying, “There was too much blood.” Somewhere between leaving the restaurant around 11 p.m. and getting into the Uber, he had sustained a severely traumatic, blunt-force injury to the left side of his head. Robbery was ruled out due to the fact that he still had his wallet, bank card, phone, etc. Being an American tourist, however, chances of authorities launching an investigation were slim. Speculation points to vindictive locals looking to maul an unsuspecting tourist, but the truth may never be known.
Around 6 a.m., Sid was discovered in said parking lot, picked up by an ambulance and rushed to the Sainte-Anne Hospital. There, doctors performed emergency surgery to remove numerous skull fragments which were embedded in his brain. After surgery, Sid was induced into a coma in order to minimize the swelling in his skull. By now, word of the incident had reached back home to Sid’s family and friends in Colorado.
Staples removed and exodus back to America mere hours before Covid-19 travel ban.
It Takes A Village
Swift action was taken to start a GoFundMe campaign in order to handle what would no doubt be a lengthy and awfully expensive undertaking to pay for his medical expenses in France, and somehow get him back home. Funds were quickly raised, as Sid has many dozens of friends and colleagues across the Mile High City and beyond. Soon, his father Toby was en route to Paris to be at his son’s side. Sid explains his father’s predicament:
“… as a Wyoming native, staying in a big town [and no French spoken], he had it as bad as I did.”
As is common with most traumatic brain injuries (TBIs), Sid has no recollection of the event or anything else that took place several days prior. He remembers nothing of his flight overseas, his arrival in Paris or the evening of the TBI. In fact, his first tangible memory, as fuzzy as it is surreal, occurs more than two weeks afterward, as doctors elected to slowly bring him out of the coma.
Strange New Reality
Paris: City of Dark for Sid Pink.
Sid remembers getting up from the hospital bed, going to the bathroom and looking in the mirror. He was met by a vaguely familiar figure who was somehow a lot thinner and, ahem, missing part of his head.
Sid recalls: “‘Man’ I thought to myself, ‘last night musta been a wild one.’ Clearly, I didn’t really ‘get’ much at that moment. But immediately after, I also noticed that I was thin [I’d lost 32 pounds during the coma]. I twisted to the side and said, ‘Damn — you look good.’ So, hey — an upside. During my last week in the hospital after waking up, I slowly realized that the crazy hole [in my head] and losing 30+ pounds probably didn’t happen in one day.” This upbeat, glass-half-full attitude would be the defining theme for Sid’s ongoing recovery and the return to his life in Colorado — nearly 5,000 miles away.
As his memory and speaking ability became more apparent, so too did the sharpening curve of the Coronavirus. Soon, it was clear that a travel ban was imminent, and with just days before it went into place on March 16, Sid and Toby made their exodus to America by the slimmest of margins. Once again, Sid’s optimism shines a light on the bright side: “It [the timing] was actually really ‘lucky’ — if it [the TBI] happened even a few days later, I would have been in lockdown in Paris for months, probably.”
A Sharp Learning Curve
Sid would soon discover that the left hemisphere of the brain is where the centers for speech and communication are located. From the get-go, he found he was unable to speak, with the exception of the words “yes” and “no.” This condition is common with TBIs, and is known as Aphasia, described by clinicians as when a person knows what they want to say, but is unable to find the words.
Sid’s path back to relative normalcy was through a comprehensive regimen of memory and speech therapy, hand/eye coordination therapy and visual attention training. These are comprehensive disciplines designed to spark neuroplasticity so that the brain can re-train itself.
First, there is the auditory recall of words. For example, a series of unrelated words are spoken aloud by the therapist, followed by five minutes of unrelated conversation, then Sid is prompted to recall those initial three words. Next, there are timed exercises involving a series of 30 or so images containing shapes. “If there’s a triangle, that’s your ‘hand,’ a circle is your ‘foot,’” Sid explains. “Each image shows one or both in it, and if it is on the left or right of a line. The exercise is to see how fast you can look at these symbols and move your hand, foot, or both while determining if they are to the right or to the left of a center line.” Another aspect of Sid’s therapy involves visual stimuli which requires the eyes to react quickly in order to recognize certain properties that are associated with movement such as walking, flying or motorized travel.
Sid continues: “The biggest thing [challenge] is with speech and memory. I need to work on remembering words, including names of actors, or bands, or movie names. If I see a picture of them, or hear someone else say the name, I know all those things in my brain. The tricky part for me is to say: ‘list all the words that start with R in 60-seconds’ or ‘name all the actors you can think of in 60-seconds.’ Oftentimes, that minute might only yield five to 10 words that I can think of. But again, if you showed me a list of 500 words that start with ‘R,’ I know all of them.” Sid continues his daily speech and memory exercises and meets with a therapist twice a week. Although there is no guarantee he will fully recover, he is determined to try.
Keep Looking Up
Moving forward, Sid’s gradual return to cognition and communicative proficiency can be attributed to a phenomenon called neuroplasticity. Unlike other organs, the brain has the unique ability to change its function and structure based on input and stimulus. Even though part of his brain tissue was lost, speech therapy has caused the remaining synapses and neurons to “rewire” their c
An extended stay in a private room is not all it’s cracked up to be.
onnectivity and help Sid regain some of his former ebullience. Once again, his optimism kicks in: “Whatever happened to me, it sucked, for sure — but I am incredibly lucky in so many ways. I have both of my eyes, nostrils [though I lost my ability to smell] and all my teeth. I can walk, use my arms, hands, back — all the big ones. My brain is screwed up, but many people [TBI victims] can’t speak, can’t understand, can’t remember — anything. They can’t write or read. Some people’s injury isn’t just aphasia, it’s amnesia, or damage that erases their knowledge, their ideas, their ability to walk or cook meals or dress themselves.”
Sid’s prognosis is speculative, and he knows he will never again be fully normal. Regardless, he is determined to forge forth into his art at whatever capacity possible. Currently, he is riding high on the recent release of a video for the song “So This is Romance” by his band Psychology Bag, www.psychologybag.com. The piece is one of many results of an ongoing project with Sid’s music partner and artistic wunderkind Kyle Jones. In it, Sid’s injuries are slowly, methodically revealed and, alas, the viewer is given several full glimpses of an artist singing (to the best of his current ability) with a somewhat-healed, extremely dramatic head injury.
The video is a deeply moving, profoundly courageous piece of performance art — and a testament to Sid’s unrelenting pursuit of artistic honesty. Indeed, the video and Sid’s overarching positive attitude are welcome victories in a year of unprecedented loss and tragedy. In closing, Mr. Sid Pink attests: “And on the ‘lucky spin’ … if I got picked up in an ambulance, given a brain/skull surgery, and stayed at the hospital for a month with a billion medications, and coma sleep and all that here in the USA … [it] would seriously have cost between one and two million dollars. It would have ruined me, my family, and friends. For whatever it was, the fact that it happened in a place with socialized medicine was lucky as hell.”
“Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.” – Mark Twain
by Luke Schmaltz
Perhaps the lowest blow Covid-19 has thrust into the guts of live entertainment is the crippling assault on the art form that thrives within kissing distance of society’s face.
Live comedy shows are casualties of circumstance, as there is too great a price to pay when large crowds of people gather in compact spaces and let loose with the explicit purpose of opening up and laughing out loud.
Comedy Works (Landmark location) is a Denver institution and a live comedy mecca; currently shuttered by Covid-19.
The essence of effective live comedy is the proximity of the artist to the audience. It’s an intimate affair, wherein spectators willingly subject themselves to carefully crafted webs of cunning that twist their wits into coils of suspense and then snap the tension with an unexpected conclusion. The result: uncontrollable laughter.
Social distancing and the complete shutdown of indoor venues has put a detrimental damper on this dynamic, placing comedy venues, promoters, managers, booking agents and the essential engine upon which the industry runs — the comedians — in peril. Currently, the world that hawks hilarity is stagnating, yet the resilient nature of the art form pushes on like a river smothered by a landslide — looking for other ways to reach its destination. And, while some do not deem laughter as an “essential” industry, those who create it think otherwise, and are reacting to 2020 in various ways.
An Unfortunate Setup
Comedy Works is widely regarded as one of the finest institutions in the live comedy business, but their business is currently paralyzed. Longtime owner/operator Wende Curtis explains: “Our downtown club closed on March 15 and has never been able to re-open. We were unable to get 50% or even 100 people in to maintain the social distancing requirements. Our south location reopened in late July but was closed again with the recent mandates.”
With no options for operating in an outdoor space, they are looking to the powers that be for assistance. “We are hoping government officials see the impact on live entertainment venues, restaurants and all businesses impacted and will appropriately accommodate us in the stimulus package,” Curtis explains.
Curtis, a universally respected comedy promoting legend, is critical of the government’s role thus far: “These venues and businesses should not have to bear the burden of this pandemic. The government should have stepped up and helped these businesses sooner. The Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) was meant to suffice for eight weeks. It’s been nine months. Without small businesses, we [live comedy] will be a couple of ugly big box companies. A truly sad state.”
Promise Of The Real
Despite the detriments of 2020, comic Christie Buchele is still hopeful — hanging onto the idea that venues, and more importantly comedy fans, will hang on too. The relative newcomer to the jokester trade has quickly blazed a trail to the forefront of the new faces set, earning a reputation for being hardworking and fiercely funny. Staying busy during 2020 hasn’t been easy, she describes performing live after the shutdown: “My first show was a zoom show for a producer in Austin, the first week of April. I didn’t do a live show until Mid-May. We did the show in the parking lot of a brewery with tables spread out and comics all wearing masks when they were off stage. The crowd size was maybe a little smaller than average but it’s hard to tell with everyone spread out.”
Denver comic Christie Buchele is doing everything she can to keep her chops up during indoor venue shutdown.
The experience of performing under these conditions makes Buchele pine for the good old days of clubs full of patrons packed in sardine-tight. “Before COVID-19 an outdoor show felt like a real pain in the ass. Keeping attention was tough, keeping up your energy and dealing with any distractions was terrible. I do think that audience members are just so happy to have something to do that now when they go to an outdoor show, they are much more attentive and excited. And they realize we are rusty but just so excited to do comedy again.”
Buchele urges comedy fans to stay tuned and support independent venues by subscribing to streaming content and buying tickets for future shows. Of all these, she laments the temporary loss of Denver’s finest room the most: “Of all the venues in Denver, I miss Comedy Works Downtown. It’s the best place in the world to do comedy and I hate not being able to go down there every week and see everyone and have the best time onstage. I never thought I would go this long without stepping foot in that building. I imagine I will cry happy tears the first time I get back up there.”
The Show Must Go On
Ben Kronberg is a Denver comedy stalwart, having begun his performance tenure in the early 2000s with no end in sight. His straight-out-of-left-field-blink-and-you’ll-miss-it style is inimitable and unmistakable. Kronberg’s comedy blurs the line between traditional set-up / punchline joke telling and abstract mentalist conjecture, which seems to have seeped into his perception of linear events in general. When asked to compare his comedic experience post and prior to the shutdown, he says: “I have what you could call a memory blend with shows now. After doing comedy for over 15 years, all the shows seem to blend together and fade together. I have been running shows at The Denver Comedy Lounge for about a year so it [last indoor show] was one of those to be uncertain.”
Ben Kronberg has been performing in Denver and beyond for 15 years and is keeping things light.
Once social distancing regulations were in place, Kronberg adapted and kept forging forth. “We kept doing shows however we could, moving to the alley behind the lounge and trying to comply with all of the regulations. When you go to a strip club you want to be close to the performer, and comedy is no different so it gave a cold medicine vibe to the whole thing with the laughter vaporizing because of being outside. We could fit maybe 30-ish people in this situation. People who came out were receptive, but this muted version of a comedy show could be felt by all. But it was better than nothing.”
Kronberg sees virtual shows as a band-aid over an axe wound type of remedy but participates nonetheless — if only for something to do. “The most fun I had [virtually] was probably doing a zoom talent show. Most [attendees] were performers and a few pervy, lonely audience members. It was better than nothing but not a proper substitute for the real thing. Kind of like a homemade fleshlight.”
Troy Baxley is a Mile High comedy legend and may or may not see stage time again.
Give ’Em Hell
Of all the unsung heroes in the Denver comedy scene, Troy Baxley is at the top of the list, having begun performing in the 1980s and since played just about every comedy stage in North America. He ran one of the first open mics in Denver at the Lions Lair on East Colfax and, of late, has taken to mentoring an onslaught of young comics determined to get on the fast track to funny.
Baxley sees the current shutdown as a great equalizer, serving to weed out what he calls “water cooler comics” while testing the endurance and mettle of those who are truly in it for the long haul. “The thing is,” he begins, “most are crumbling under the weight because there’s no end in sight. If you’re a hacky comic, the allure of doing the same two-minute set falls away, and since you aren’t disciplined to be constantly developing new material your skills get rusty fast. With open mic nights gone [for now] you can’t just go tell a couple zingers one night and then go to work the next day announcing yourself as a comedian.”
Unfortunately, Baxley was recently diagnosed with onset Parkinson’s disease, perhaps hindering his ability to perform once clubs are open again. Yet, Baxley shrugs off the shutdown like he’s shutting down a heckler. “I can tell by a heckler’s tone how long they have before I get the room to turn on them. I can tell by Covid-19 that, eventually, things will bounce back and once we all work the rust off, we’ll be cracking wise better than ever.”
What Residents Can Do To Keep Their Vehicles From Being Stolen
“We live in a time when if you make it easy for someone to steal from you, someone will.” — Frank Abagnale
by Luke Schmaltz
Denver car owners’ vehicles are driving away without them at an alarming rate.
suburbs coupled with the ideals of convenience and self-reliance stamped into most American DNA means that just about everyone with a driver’s license also has access to a car. Of the many thousands of vehicles in use across the Front Range, a rising percentage will be targeted, broken into and driven away with haste.
A Banner Year
2020 has been a boon for car thieves, with numbers climbing like a curve on a Covid-19 cases chart. According to a September 21 report published by The Denver Post, 5149 vehicles have been stolen in Denver thus far — an average of around 530 per month or about 20 per day.
Disconnecting the battery after parking your car can prevent theft.
These numbers are apparently being driven up by idle hands, as some folks who are out of work turn to crime while others turn to a stationary life — leaving their vehicles parked in the same location for many days or weeks at a time. According to the Colorado Auto Theft Prevention Authority (CATPA) Metro Auto Theft Team (CMATT) these vehicles are primarily larger trucks and SUVs — specifically the Ford F-series trucks (F-150, F-250 and F-350), Chevy Silverados and GMC Sierras.
The reason these models are targeted is that they typically contain valuable tools for construction and other in-demand trades. Thieves then turn around and quick sell the tools and disassemble the car via chop shops for used parts. Or they will simply abandon the vehicle in a sparsely populated stretch of road somewhere on the outskirts of town. This dynamic explains why nearly 85% of stolen vehicles are recovered and of course, devoid of any of the owners’ personal items.
Beware Distractions
According to the National Insurance Crime Bureau (NICB), many car thefts take place during major distractions. The primary of these, obviously, is when vehicle owners are asleep in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, however, major holidays such as Halloween and New Year’s Day are also popular times. 2020 is unique in that social unrest in the form of protests and riots tend to attract large gatherings of police officers, leaving a vacuum of sorts in outlying areas. While the majority of officers in District 3 and 6 are downtown skirmishing with protesters and arresting bystanders, professional car thieves are fanning out through the neighborhoods — helping themselves while terrified residents remain glued to their television sets to watch the chaos unfurl.
2020 was a banner year for car thieves in Denver and surrounding areas.
The Basics
It goes without saying that you should lock your car and take the keys to the vehicle with you when you get out. Yet, a large percentage of cars being stolen are done so with ease because the FOB (frequency operated button) “key” was left inside the car, in plain sight, no less. Parking in a garage if you are so lucky is a great idea and if not, in a well-lit area with the windows rolled all the way up can also be a deterrent.
Ramp It Up
Theft deterrent devices like steering wheel locks, steering column collars and car alarms (with warning decals on the windows) can make an enterprising criminal decide to move along to the next car. You can also thwart criminals with a device locked onto one of the four wheels, otherwise known as a wheel lock. After all, the Mile High City is the originator of “the boot” so why not show a bit of Denver pride?
Leaving keys and FOBs in your car means you won’t have it for much longer.
Protect The Transmitter
If you drive a car that unlocks with a FOB, hacker-savvy thieves can access your car even if you take the “key” with you. They do this by “jamming” your FOB’s radio frequency remotely. You can prevent this by taking a few pointers from the tin foil hat crowd and, yes, wrapping your FOB in tin foil overnight or while you are at work. This approach also works by dropping them in a cocktail shaker and slapping the lid on tight. Or, if those methods are a bit too pedestrian you can go out and buy radio frequency identification (RFID) blocker wallets and purses. Perhaps those conspiracy theorists are not so crazy after all.
When cops gather en masse or citizens are distracted by holidays, criminals strike.
Get Technical
Gearheads are privy to a number of hands-on mechanical methods that will keep a car from starting should a thief gain access. You can disconnect one of the battery cables from one of the battery posts which will cut off all power, rendering the car immobile. A similar approach can be applied by switching one of the spark plug wires with the coil wire, which will cause the car to make lots of loud backfiring noises while never actually starting. You can also install a fuel line cutoff valve, a battery disconnect switch or a “dizzy switch” which turns off the electrical signal from the distributor to the coil.
Go Big
In addition to the models mentioned above, the NICB reports that the most frequently stolen cars also include the Nissan Altima, Toyota Camry, Honda Civic, Honda Accord, Toyota Corolla and Jeep Grand Cherokee. If you are in a position to upgrade, you can trade in your current vehicle for a vehicle that has proven to be virtually theft proof. According to a recent article by Forbes, the Subaru Outback, Legacy and Forester are safe bets along with GMC Acadia, Volkswagen Beetle, Buick Encore, Chevy Equinox, BMW 3-Series and just about anything made by Tesla.
Most Tesla models, especially this one, can’t be stolen.
Your other option for avoiding having your car stolen is to simply continue as usual without a plan and hope the bad guys don’t randomly choose you. Otherwise, you can sleep in your vehicle with a charged phone and a taser or you can give up driving, go green and get a bike. If you choose the latter, however, be sure to invest in a really, really good lock.
“Repeat after me: real estate provides the highest returns, the greatest values and the least risk.” — Armstrong Williams, entrepreneur
by Luke Schmaltz
As of February 25, 2020 — according to Forbes and WalletHub — Colorado had one of the lowest residential property tax rates in the nation — just 7.15% — third to only Hawaii and Alabama.
As of November 3, 2020 — according to some fiscal experts — that glowing statistic may gradually begin to fade.
An Uneven Keel
Consistent with the year’s underlying theme of division and disparity, the commercial tax rate sits at an inverse position at 29% — making the terrain for independent, small businesses especially rough, and increasingly so as Covid-19 looms on. Before the election and the ensuing repeal of the Gallagher Amendment, anyone keen on owning a home, as well as commercial property in Denver, was privy to staggeringly different tax bills — even if their residential property was right next door to that of their business.
In an election that was overwhelmingly characterized by close races and slim margins, Amendment B (repealing Gallagher) passed in a landslide vote of 57.4% to 42.6%. This means that the low property tax rates Colorado homeowners have enjoyed for decades will, according to opponents of the measure, begin to increase the tax burden homeowners are forced to bear — especially those in the urban middle-class sector.
Wide Appeal
For the uninformed, property taxes are collected in order to pay for local government services that benefit the immediate district. These include schools, fire departments, infrastructure, water, libraries, recreation and county road maintenance.
Tax Increase?: With Gallagher repealed, some say taxes will go up while others say they will not.
As all property owners quickly discover — residential and commercial alike — taxes are determined by complex formulas, dreaded by many and resented by all for their unrelenting consistency. In this election cycle, the convoluted nature of taxes seemed to have influenced the diverse interest in Amendment B vs. the Gallagher Amendment — perhaps the only refreshing thing about the issue in general.
Amendment B garnered a patchwork of varied bipartisan support, both for and against the measure. Proponents included former U.S. Senator Hank Brown (R), current Republican state senators Bob Rankin of Carbondale, and Don Coram of Montrose, current House Representative Daneya Esgar (D) and former Colorado Secretary of State Bernie Beusher (D). Naturally, the measure was opposed by the author of the Gallagher Amendment, former Senator and career public servant Dennis Gallagher (D) along with the right-leaning head of Colorado Rising Action, Michael Fields, as well as with former House Speaker Dickey Hullinghorst (D).
An Outdated Formula?
For nearly four decades, Colorado residential property owners have enjoyed consistent tax cuts supplied by the Gallagher Amendment which, until November 3, had rates locked in at 7.15%. The disparity here is stark, however, as commercial property owners were “stuck with the bill” as it were and foisted with tax rates consistently ringing in around 29%. Under Gallagher, residential taxes could only allot for 45% of the total tax base, with nonresidential properties such as retail businesses, factories and farmland making up the remaining 55%. As rising residential property values skyrocketed, the inherent complexity of the tax formula resulted in an unbalanced scale — with the heavy end tipping toward commercial property holders.
While this lopsided provision was great for homeowners in high-growth areas along the front range, owners in rural areas suffered — as their property values were not accruing at nearly the rate of their urban counterparts. Simply put, with Gallagher in place, the more the value of a property increased, the less percentage of tax the owner had to pay. With this protection removed by Amendment B, critics of the measure are predicting that residential property taxes will rise drastically. Meanwhile, supporters of the measure contend that removal of the Gallagher Amendment will leave current rates frozen in place — for now.
Too Much Too Soon?
The recently-televised Colorado Decides: Amendment B debate hosted by PBS 12 featured outspoken public figures weighing in on both sides. Representative Esgar (D) championed the effect a repeal would have on small businesses: “ … right now 20% of the taxpayer base (commercial property owners) are paying 55% of the tax [revenue]. These are small businesses … right now they are being hit the hardest … they want to know, right now, why they are paying four times what [the] residential property tax rate is …” Esgar explained further that leaving the Gallagher Amendment in place would result in commercial property taxes ballooning to up to five times that of the residential rates.
Meanwhile, in opposition to Amendment B, Michael Fields (Colorado Rising Action) explained that a statewide repeal is far too drastic, and rather, measures should be taken to amend the tax code in certain districts who are suffering from loss of revenue. In the aforementioned televised debate, Fields contents that: “ … a solution needs to be more regionally based or county based … I think that makes a lot more sense because there are areas of our state that are either less commercial property or their (residential) values aren’t going up as much …overall, this is a regional problem and there should be a regional solution.
Upwardly Mobile
As fate would have it, the Gallagher Amendment is no more. Without another policy in place, according to TABOR, residential property taxes will rise as the property values increase. So, as Denver renters have recently seen in vivid detail, this could mean yet another rent hike as landlords pass the overall cost of owning property onto their tenants.
The Gallagher Amendment was a major ballot issue in 1982 and again in 2020. It was designed to evenly spread the tax burden between residential and commercial properties.
While proponents of Amendment B downplay the severity of repealing the Gallagher Amendment, others like Fields are quick to point out the costly implications. An October 26, 2020, article published on coloradopolitics.com contends that a repeal leaves no protections in place for property owners. This means that — as required by TABOR — property taxes would increase to the tune of $203+ million and keep climbing — a fact that lawmakers like Daneya Esgar seem to have forgotten to disclose whilst selling this new piece of legislation to an uneducated and most likely distracted public.
Others contend that tax rates that are applied according to the rapid rise of property values, while being inconvenient for owners, can spell ample funds for public services — especially in rural and economically challenged areas. At any rate, the varied implications of how things may play out are a fitting reflection of the complex nature of property tax formulas. To find out what the repeal truly means (just like everything else this year) folks are going to have to just wait and see.
“I can’t remember if I cried When I read about his widowed bride Something touched me deep inside The day the music died”
— Don McLean, American Pie
by Luke Schmaltz
As with any art form, there are dabblers, there are enthusiasts and there are absolute fanatics. For years, Denver has encouraged all manner of minstrels from prodigies and virtuosos to working players and weekend warriors. These dynamics play into the fickle nature of music, as trends turn over at hypersonic speeds — prompting fans to abandon a movement just as quickly as they adopted it before even considering its merit. Similarly, some musicians are quick to call it quits when a new fad, craze or in this case — a pandemic — comes along that does not resonate with their aspirations. Some, on the other hand, refuse to hang it up at any cost.
Way Back When
Before mid-March of 2020, Denver’s diversity made for an exciting ensemble — an aural offering of such variety that just about any night of the week you could find some kind of a sonic display going on, whether it was rock and roll, country, hip-hop, blues, electronica or even the ear-splitting cacophony of a dive bar karaoke night. All this has changed now, as Denver venues have, for the most part, been forced to shut down their operations. Mainstays such as the Gothic, Bluebird, Ogden and Marquee theatres are shuttered along with big venues like Red Rocks, the Fillmore Auditorium, Denver Coliseum, Mission Ballroom, Levitt Pavilion and more. And then there are the little guys — the lifeblood of local musicians and C-circuit touring bands. Places like Lions Lair, Hi-Dive and Larimer Lounge are hanging on by a thread while Live at Jack’s, Armida’s, 3 Kings Tavern and Skylark Lounge have closed permanently.
Lockdown Fallout: Shuttered theatres and out-of-work employees and musicians.
A Fragile Construct
Many a working musician has contended with smug, demeaning and dismissive venue owners and booking managers who think musicians need them and not the other way around. Conversely, many a club manager has dealt with the insufferable whining of fledgling musicians who think they have the world coming to them on a platter just because they can play 12-bar blues. In reality, it’s a symbiotic relationship, with only the hardiest (or luckiest) of either archetype standing a chance of making it out the other side, identity intact. From a musician standpoint, the hobbyists and weekend warriors will sit this one out while the diehard, lifelong players, composers and engineers will grind on — adapting in stubborn overtures of Darwinian survival.
Stalwart Strategies
The Hibernator
Learning Something New: Aaron Howell wants you to learn something new during the pandemic.
Aaron Howell is the captivating singer and frontman for Denver-based hard rock favorites MF Ruckus. An international touring act that has long-graduated from dive bars and house parties, they are the type of mid-to-large-draw touring band forced into hiatus due to mass closure of theatre-sized venues. Not one to easily, if ever, admit defeat — Howell has chosen to see the pandemic through an esoteric lens. “Some of the greatest learnings in human history have happened during times of plague,” he explains. “It’s one of the default settings that we, as musicians, are built to run.”
“There’s an old Russian saying,” Howell continues, “If you chase two rabbits you catch none.” Rather than lose sight of his goals, he has chosen to intensify his focus. Putting his money where his mouth is, Howell has begun expanding his horizons by taking online music courses to enhance his guitar skills. “Now that the world has shut down, the tethers holding us to any excuse to not try new things have frayed away. Although Howell is not all rainbows and sunshine, he does maintain the glint of a steel-tinted silver lining: “I think about quitting every day. But what keeps me going, is that my obsessive completionism won’t let me leave anything unfinished.”
The Prodigy
Tim Merz — aka Timmy Flips — is the dynamic, triple threat creative force behind hybrid punk/metal outfit Red Stinger. Before the shutdown, when he wasn’t arranging complex lyrical hip-hop overtures or riff-heavy rock and roll tunes, he was working as owner/operator/head instructor of Booth Dance Studios — teaching ballroom dance and other disciplines of movement to a large, diverse, demanding student body. Unlike most folks, Merz did not regard the shutdown with dread, as his own physical exhaustion was on course to slow him down one way or another. “When I heard there was a possibility we’d be put on lockdown, it saved my life, really. I had an overwhelming sense of relief because my life got to pause, and I finally got to breathe.”
Triple Threat: Tim Merz aka Timmy Flips aka Twinkle Toes; a lockdown triple threat.
While counterintuitive to most, Merz’s perception of the situation was as unorthodox as his self-appointed artistic trifecta of punk rock, hip-hop and ballroom dance. He wasted no time shifting focus as an overextended teacher to a hyper-productive musician. “Once I accepted the shutdown was imminent, the faucet opened up and I decided to just do me … for the first time ever I was like — what a gift, what a blessing — it was exactly what I needed. Since mid-March, Merz has written a two-person dance piece and a full cast stage dance show, recorded a hip-hop album and written a four-part Red Stinger musical series titled The Stinger Scriptures — soon to be released in four separate recordings.
The Adaptor
Bart McCrorey: Engineering mastermind and musical wizard didn’t skip a “lockdown” beat.
Bart McCrorey is the proprietor and sonic wizard behind the Crash Pad studio as well as a slew of bands including Messiahvore, Throttlebomb, Valio Mierda and The Pitch Invasion to name a few. He has produced and engineered records for tens of dozens if not hundreds of Denver bands over the past 20 years. The shutdown put a serious damper on studio recordings at first, but he was quickly able to switch to working virtually — having musicians send him raw tracks recorded remotely that he could then enhance, add accompaniments to, mix and master to his clients’ content.
Two of McCrorey’s bands have also been among the select acts to participate in Safe and Sound — a music series put on by the Oriental Theater — one of the few large venues to remain in operation during the pandemic. No small feat, as every event must be monitored scrupulously for adherence to social distancing guidelines and capped at 25% occupancy. On the fun side, McCrorey used everyone’s favorite social media garbage chute, Facebook, to introduce an interactive page that threatened to turn the tide from despondent and divisive to upbeat and educational. Riff Book was launched in the early days of the lockdown and quickly grew to nearly 1,000 members sharing guitar licks, songs and solos rather than polarizing rhetoric and sob stories.
The Troubadour
Tony Luke: Discovered abundance amid the scarcity of live music.
Tony Luke unplugged his guitar for only as long as the Colorado governance mandated and not a measure more. The renowned bluesman is locally revered as one of the best in the business — from his generation (X) for sure. Avoiding the popular downtown clubs and trendy hipster bars, Luke prefers the mom and pop dives of the Denver outskirts, which are somewhat removed from the intense scrutiny of most establishments near the city’s popular epicenter. After being forced to take nearly three months off (April through June) Luke began playing his local circuit of small venues tucked away in suburban strip malls and semi-rural thoroughfares. Contrary to Aaron Howell’s aforementioned MF Ruckus, Luke’s band is just the right size of small but mighty. “Bands that are bigger fish present a problem for venues right now and no one wants to book them,” he attests. “But I’m a roadhouse band, so I play for existing audiences and turn them into fans by the end of the night.”
Luke was pleasantly surprised that bar patrons were overly exuberant and yes, even thankful for live music in unprecedented ways. “I have found success in the pandemic because people are starved for music,” he explains. “My tip jars have tripled from 80 dollars or so to sometimes 300 and 400 bucks a night.” He chooses to view the circumstances through a romantic lens of sorts, stating “I am seeing this time as a sort of renaissance of the old-time juke-joint type of blues nights. You know, when there were no other shows going on and no big concerts — just a couple guys on a small stage in a little bar and people really, really appreciated the music.”
by Luke Schmaltz
