One good thing about Colorado Springs

I’m going to tell you something great about Colorado Springs, because sometimes it’s pretty hard not to hate it. On odd summer afternoons, today it’s Saturday, downtown at the Southwest corner of Acacia Park, across the street actually, there assemble seven or so male gospel singers, who sit against a cement planter and sway, harmonizing to an incredible lead vocalist, through song after energetic, soothing song.
Gospel Septet

Sometimes a crowd assembles, sometimes there is clapping. Often passersby make a point to greet the line of singers, shaking hands with them before walking on. Of all Colorado Springs cultural offerings, this is my favorite.

Because isn’t it pretty hard sometimes not to hate Colorado Springs for the ignorant, artless, soul-killers who populate it? The climate may be top of the line, but the cultural atmosphere brings on endless waves of despair, thoughts of suicide, or a determination to emigrate. And it’s hard to argue against the logic of splitting. Jason Zacharias decided to seek his fortune elsewhere. To have tried to change his mind would have meant a lot of selfish reasons on our part, and telling lies about this place.

Many who chose emigration eventually return. Why? I’ll posit it’s because the region is where we have our roots. I was always sure the solution was to build the environment we prefer to inhabit. I’m no longer so sure it can be done with our too few hands.

Damn the greedy, incurious, time-theving idiots who’ve moved into our midst. Or who’ve grown like uneducated weeds between the crack of what we thought were good school systems. How do we urge them to emigrate? We might have to build a Mall-of-America-sized Walmart a half-day’s drive away, and offer that they can live in it. Imagine, McDonalds in bed, someone to greet your friends at the door. Make the parking lot big enough to accommodate all their gasoline powered vehicles.

Jason Zacharias

Jason Zacharias, 1975-2009“You must either make a tool of the creature, or a man of him. You cannot make both.”
–John Ruskin, 1853, The Stones of Venice
“Men were not intended to work with the accuracy of tools, to be precise and perfect in all their actions. If you will have that precision out of them, and make their fingers measure degrees like cog-wheels, and their arms strike curves like compasses, you must unhumanize them. All the energy of their spirits must be given to make cogs and compasses of themselves….On the other hand, if you will make a man of the working creature, you cannot make him a tool. Let him but begin to imagine, to think, to try to do anything worth doing; and the engine-turned precision is lost at once. Out come all his roughness, all his dulness, all his incapability; shame upon shame, failure upon failure, pause after pause: but out comes the whole majesty of him also; and we know the height of it only when we see the clouds settling upon him.”