Estes, the half-a-town
For those of you born after 1975, enjoy this image while watching this video (actually just a soundtrack from a supposedly lost episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus, even though the first half about the fish license is very much viewable from Season 2).
Now that you are half-caught up, you might be able to better appreciate why I refer to Estes Park as half-a-town. We are only fully occupied or staffed or open for half the year. We have no manufacturing, only retail. We have two half-papers, two (sort-of) half-radio stations, one grocery store with half the check-out lines necessary, and a half-grocery store with twice as many check-out lines as needed. We are called "lucky" to have half a real hospital, and "blessed" to have a library with two floors, only one floor of which houses actual books. Our high school graduates students performing at half the national average, half of whom pursue higher education.
We have twice as many boards as we need, twice as many non-profits as should be allowed by law or sanity, all filled by half the people that would generally fill them in any other community. Half of our residents are heavy consumers of alcohol and (prescription, legal, and illicit) drugs, half of them have one foot in the grave, half of registered citizens vote, half of our townsfolk are permanently unhappy they half-live here. Because the town board is incapable of splitting the baby, or even threatening to, half of the senior population is now served by a community center, the other half by a senior center, which takes up half-space with the American Legion. Because of potholes, half of our roads are navigable (if even open). Half of everyone's garbage ends up along the road or in our rivers, rather than deposited in the landfill. The town board is essentially split half-conservative/half-liberal, and half of the downtown businesses and hotels/motels along Big Thompson Avenue and Fall River Road require major sprucing up. Gaslight Square is already half-abandoned and half-condemned, the absentee landlord living half a country away, half-crazy. In summer, our national park neighbor is too crowded by half, over half of the parking spots we've added in the last decade go unused, we could get by with half the realtors we have, and half the souvenir shops. Only half of our restaurants pass inspection, our visitor center is too big by half, with twice as many Ambassadors as we need, half of whom dispense half-nonsense, the remainder of whom couldn't point out Lily Ridge Trail on a map.
The biggest half-truth about Halftes Park is that our administration's new byword "transparency" is keeping us all in the loop. Look at the emails that have a short half-life, and the communications (over half) that take place outside public purview. We're lucky to get even half the story. We have no idea what is going on at the half-hospital, and, even though we pay for keeping half the doors open, we are told what goes on there is none of our business. Others have half-heartedly asked for even half an apology from half the board, but I would prefer seeing half the security footage. I can determine from that whether half the board should immediately resign (for allowing a culture that encouraged half the staff to be threatened with half-nelsons courtesy of the other half), or the CEO should consider seeking semi-retirement in a halfway house.
We have twice as many boards as we need, twice as many non-profits as should be allowed by law or sanity, all filled by half the people that would generally fill them in any other community. Half of our residents are heavy consumers of alcohol and (prescription, legal, and illicit) drugs, half of them have one foot in the grave, half of registered citizens vote, half of our townsfolk are permanently unhappy they half-live here. Because the town board is incapable of splitting the baby, or even threatening to, half of the senior population is now served by a community center, the other half by a senior center, which takes up half-space with the American Legion. Because of potholes, half of our roads are navigable (if even open). Half of everyone's garbage ends up along the road or in our rivers, rather than deposited in the landfill. The town board is essentially split half-conservative/half-liberal, and half of the downtown businesses and hotels/motels along Big Thompson Avenue and Fall River Road require major sprucing up. Gaslight Square is already half-abandoned and half-condemned, the absentee landlord living half a country away, half-crazy. In summer, our national park neighbor is too crowded by half, over half of the parking spots we've added in the last decade go unused, we could get by with half the realtors we have, and half the souvenir shops. Only half of our restaurants pass inspection, our visitor center is too big by half, with twice as many Ambassadors as we need, half of whom dispense half-nonsense, the remainder of whom couldn't point out Lily Ridge Trail on a map.
The biggest half-truth about Halftes Park is that our administration's new byword "transparency" is keeping us all in the loop. Look at the emails that have a short half-life, and the communications (over half) that take place outside public purview. We're lucky to get even half the story. We have no idea what is going on at the half-hospital, and, even though we pay for keeping half the doors open, we are told what goes on there is none of our business. Others have half-heartedly asked for even half an apology from half the board, but I would prefer seeing half the security footage. I can determine from that whether half the board should immediately resign (for allowing a culture that encouraged half the staff to be threatened with half-nelsons courtesy of the other half), or the CEO should consider seeking semi-retirement in a halfway house.
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