The Decline: Walsenburg, Pueblo, & Colorado Springs

There was a great deal of anxiety this morning, my first day in Denver, and it revolved around this blog. If someone had asked me a few months ago whether blog-related anxiety was something I could imagine in my future, I’d unhesitatingly shake my head N-O. I don’t keep a blog in my “regular life” and I only read five or six, namely Jimmy Stamp’s Life Without Buildings.

Judging by the stats, the readership for this blog is rising daily (the natural result of driving around in a giant white van that says EUROPE FOR PRESIDENT), but I haven’t offered much insight into what has been going on in the past three days.

Several factors play into this, but I mainly attribute it to the general ennui that Colorado Springs offered during the three days we stayed there. Everything felt like new weird america up until that point. It came to a screeching halt when we checked into a Hampton Inn, which was surrounded by a giant parking lot, an Outback Steakhouse, a Carabba’s, and a movie theater. All our momentum and “European hope” disintegrated in the Springs. It was just the same old America—new developments, conservatism, and corporations.

Here is a comment by “Milk Man” which can be found in our guestbook:

After seeing these guys shooed away from several store fronts here in Colorado Springs, then watching the fearless leader of a male hippie type sitting on the sidewalk with a cell phone to his ear and a cigarrette hanging out of his mouth I’ve decided not to vote for them. I guess it must have been to hot for them today 8/22/08, as the last time I saw their female candidate and film crew, they were entering the local Liquor Locker for some livations and I guess?/(hope) on to Denver and greener pastures as we sure don’t need them in the Springs.

It was also in Colorado Springs where Carol-Hannah and Altheimer started to divide on multiple issues.

Let me back up though…

WALSENBURG

After our bizarre afternoon in San Luis, we crept into Walsenburg, CO. Something told Altheimer that this was the place where we’d run into pure xenophobia. It is all about confrontation and provocation for him. This is how he gathers his research—by collecting the initial reactions people have to his concepts and sticking them in his box. Something which is becoming heavier and heavier with weak arguments.

We all set up camp with our laptops and cameras at the small coffeehouse/yarn store on Main Street and the first person we talked to was a woman from the Faeroe Islands. She spoke fluent Danish and German with the crew. This was Edla, the owner of Edla Yarns and Coffee. She was very sound in her political views and pointed out all the problems with European politics over a single cup of coffee. This encounter startled Altheimer into space cadet oblivion. Meanwhile, the next generation of Walsenburg encroached upon us on their wheels.

Later that day I drove the van around while Altheimer hung out a window announcing our next “event” through a loudspeaker. We planned to serve the good citizens of Walsenburg wine and cheese (literally and figuratively) in Heritage Park, a tiny plot of land next to some railroad tracks. But Altheimer was so spaced out he kept announcing the wrong things: “Meet us in Bryant Park in New York city at Five!” and “Heritage Park for president 2008!”

Edla, her husband, the staff at Huerfano Journal, and a few others gathered around us. Again, Altheimer was slipping all information. This was when I realized that all the facts and fictions were blurring into something else…something bad.

PUEBLO

We left the wine and cheese charade and drove in the direction of a famous BBQ restaurant en route to Pueblo. Everyone was a bit maudlin and swept away by the sunset. This soft moment was ruptured by the vision of a huge car accident—all the cops, fire trucks, and ambulances in the southern region of Colorado were there. The story is that it started as a brawl in the BBQ place involving drugs and men running out in the fields to hide them, then a cop car chase which sent a truck tumbling over on to its backside. We spoke to other witnesses at a nearby gas station. Altheimer took off his Europe for President pin out of respect. Another glimpse into the truth behind this project—that it is all a big joke. There is no room for jokes during a tragedy sometimes.

Pueblo greeted us with a shirtless man. His motorcycle was parked next to our van in the motel parking lot. “Is this a common thing?” Altheimer asked the man. “Forgive I am from Europe and people don’t walk around with their shirts off there.”

This brings me to another point—the fact that this blog isn’t all that political. Sometimes I want to inject more political theory into it, but it doesn’t seem right. Our campaign trail is more about getting to know America through the mind of a European madman/academic. Multiple vignettes unravel around us.

Where does Pueblo fit into the story? Cops and the bookstore. During our day there, Altheimer wanted to confront cops, but spent most of his time chatting with the intellectuals at the local independant bookstore. We also met this woman, Rita, who offered to take Hannah Jefferson’s place in the event that we needed to change candidates.

COLORADO SPRINGS

The Low Points:
*the parking lots
*unsuccessfully getting onto a military base
*the general feeling of malaise in the crew.
*Altheimer stopped eating completely and started generating nothing but time-consuming and utterly pointless ideas “just to create a stir”.

The High Points:

*Eating dinner at professor Mark Smith’s beautiful Bavarian chalet. He teaches economics at Colorado College and gave Altheimer a handful of great tips regarding our campaign—namely regarding the message EUROPEANS AGAINST OBAMA. After hearing Altheimer’s views on politics and spectacle, he advised the slogan change to EUROPEANS AGAINST SITUATIONISTS. He told Altheimer that he was flip-flopping too much as well. Carol-Hannah and I are creating our own sign: AGAINST EUROPEANS AGAINST OBAMA.

*The development of article in The Colorado Springs Gazette.

–this is VK signing off after writing the longest blog post ever. Jimmy at LWB would probably tell me it was too long, but you have no idea—you, dear reader, if you are still with me up to this point—how much I have left out. More on the meat of this journey—the DNC–in tomorrow’s post. Again, thanks to Dennis for the pictures. I took the one of the shirtless man though…