Friday, October 02, 2009

Colorado Here I Come -- My Recent Trip to the Centennial State, Part One

I have made the trip to Denver, Colorado many times in the past. I performed in Aspen, well Snowmass actually, quite frequently in the mid ‘90s and early ‘00’s when the Tower Magic Bar and Restaurant was in business. It was a shame to see that wonderful venue of live magical entertainment close down after over two decades in business. Every time I would be booked there, I would fly into Denver and visit my buddy Ted for a day or so before making the gorgeous drive up to Snowmass for the weekend of performances. I love Denver. I love the downtown area, I love the art culture, and the laid back nature you experience that is so unlike a major city. Compared to the pace of Los Angeles, Denver is like a morgue.

So, two weeks ago I found myself in the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, CA awaiting my flight to Vegas, where I would then transfer flights and end up, once again, in Denver. This time, however, I was booked in Castle Rock, Colorado – a much shorter drive from Denver – where I was booked for the first time at Joe and Carol Givan’s Theatre of Dreams.

Now, I don’t know how often any of you travel, but I’m sure that if you’ve been in an airport anytime since 9/11, then there has been a chance that your carry-on bag has been opened and searched at one point or another. If not, then you’ve undoubtedly seen that occur to someone else.

I’m a professional magician. I’m that “someone else.” My carry-on is always opened and searched. And who can blame them, really? Magicians tend to carry items that are a bit out of the ordinary from the commonplace traveler. So naturally, on this most recent trip, as I pass through the metal detector waiting for my carry-on containing the bulk of my act to come through the X-ray machine, a female TSA grabs my bag and walks toward me.

“Is this your bag, sir?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m going to need to take a look inside.”

“That’s fine,” I reply as I retrieve my briefcase and put my shoes back on.

The scene that followed was very humorous to watch. Her back was to me, blocking my view of the actual case. She pulled out a rubber chicken and placed it aside. Next came a bag of about a dozen sponge balls, two of my “Superman” outfits that I use for the finale of my act, and a beat up looking mayonnaise jar containing a gelatinous blob in it that I use in a card trick that I call “Grandpa’s Brain.” She rooted around in the bag a little more, not bothering to remove anything else, then very carefully and precisely put all the weird curios she had just removed back into the case and closed it up. She turned back to me and handed me the bag.

“Here you go sir, thank you,” she said. “And let me say that this was, by far, the most fun baggage check I have had all year.”

The flight to Las Vegas was brief, as always. From Burbank to Las Vegas, the flight time is just over 30 minutes – 40 at the most. You literally get into the air, the flight attendants take your drink orders, and the pilot comes on the P.A. saying that they are beginning their descent into Vegas before you are served your Coke. The subsequent flight to Denver was a little longer, and uneventful, and I’m always thankful for “uneventful” flights. I fly a lot, and I’m fine with it. I enjoy looking out of the window and taking in the sights as I fly to my destination. So I’m not afraid to fly, but if I let myself dwell too much on the dynamics of it all (IE hurtling at 700 miles an hour through the air, 35,000 feet above some remote mountain range in a very heavy metal tube that has no business being up 35,000 feet in the air – and staying there for hours at a time), well…it can start to get to me.

Ted met me at the Denver airport and we drove back to his apartment. As we drove out of the terminal parking lot on the long stretch of road leading to the freeway, Ted told me to keep an eye out for a particular sculpture that greets drivers as they enter or depart the airport. No sooner had he mentioned this, when I saw the sculpture in question. A giant blue mustang with searing red eyes, rearing up on its hind legs, loomed in the distance. As we drew nearer, Ted told me the history of this piece of art. First, it seems that many Coloradoans (is that the proper term for people who live in Colorado?) are not pleased with the sculpture because at night, the red eyes glow. They can be seen from quite a distance, and it apparently makes the horse look possessed.

Secondly – and even more weirdly – the path this sculpture took to finally end up here in Denver was one fraught with turmoil. In 1993, this sculpture was commissioned by the city of Denver. The job went to a New Mexico artist by the name of Luis Jimenez who worked on it for a few years, but then abandoned the project for some reason – perhaps other more pressing projects. The airport opened in 1995 without the sculpture. According to Ted, the city took Jimenez to court when more time passed and they still didn’t have their sculpture. The city of Denver won the case, and Jimenez went back to work on the piece. One day in 2006, while working on the mustang in his studio, a piece of the unfinished sculpture fell from it’s holdings and killed Jimenez! It had to be finished by Jimenez’s sons, Adan and Orion. The sculpture was installed a little over a year ago, and now people hate it.

You can’t make this stuff up!



Shawn McMaster
Conjured-Up Creations
P.O. Box 973
Newbury Park, CA 91319
(805)480-0703
www.conjuredupcreations.com

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