On Hyman Looking South

December 20th, 2006 at 06:30pm Michael Conniff 2

Cities don’t show themselves all that easily: they unfold by accident but when you have eyes to see them.

I got a ride downtown after my show with a deejay friend from the station heading for dental hell at Hyman and Second.

“Keep your teeth in your head,” I told him.

He left me off right there which meant I had a few blocks to walk after that morning’s snow had fallen on the city and flown off to the higher ground of Independence Pass. There was nothing special about the day: no bluebird sky, no postcard, no gondola to lord over those below.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said without confirmation.

Because it really wasn’t a beautiful day by our ridiculous standards—it was a 5 or 6 on a scale of one to ten. But it was beautiful in a way you’ll never see immortalized in a photograph or photo shoot. Straight down the gut of Hyman heading for the pedestrian mall was the American flag atop the capitol dome of the Elk’s Club. The sulky snow left the sky gray-white above the streets of white. Up ahead were the promise of the Crystal Palace and the Wheeler Opera House and the Popcorn Wagon and the warm springs of the fountain that would have to wait for a more propitious moments.

Ajax was there, too, but off to the right, a bit player on a canvas writ small. Soon it would start to snow again, and the fashionista would walk into Zele with a Burberry scarf and gigantic sunglasses that overfit her face, and huge white earmuffs she would not take off indoors because it would spoil the look. The noon siren made ready to bleat for the miners you would never meet. Life in Aspen would go in just so many scenes left unseen.

Entry Filed under: Fashion, Aspen