Thursday, June 1 and Friday, June 2 were big days in Carbondale. Thursday was the annual Art Walk. Attendees were led up and down Main Street to see the numerous artworks in town, many of which I’ve never noticed before. Several of the artists were on hand to explain what they were thinking when they created the piece. Once again, I was amazed at the amount of talent that is in this town.
For four years, I lived in the farming town in northern Idaho my mother grew up in, a town of 500 people, 22 of which were first cousins and ten aunts and uncles. I worked for farmers, ranchers, loggers, hunted, fished, played mushball, and drank beer. It was an ideal situation and I’ve always thought the worst mistake I ever made was leaving there and returning to the Chicago area because I was short of money.
Now that I’ve lived in Carbondale, I can see that eventually I would have gone crazy in that little town. The nearest movie theater or library was 40 miles away, the local bar had occasional country and western bars and style shows which were nothing more than girly shows featuring lingerie. (Modafinil) I’m no artsy-smartsy, but if I don’t get a dose of art, music, theater, film, comedy, and literature every once in awhile, I get antsy. Friday was the monthly First Friday. With First Friday, Mountain Fair, and Potato Days, you’re never at a loss for something to do in this town. Carbondale veterans said it was the biggest First Friday ever. Cars were parked all the way to Sopris Ave. Main St. was jammed with people. Living a block from downtown, I was kept awake that night by loud rock music and a loud argument. I love this town. I just hope we don’t love it to death.
Fred Malo Jr.