Denver Post Features/Entertainment intern Kelsey Fowler is experiencing her first UMS. These are her stories.
No one wants to walk north of First Avenue.
The asphalt is still radiating heat from the day. But even sticking to the sidewalks, people don’t seem inclined to trek all too far. Itap convenient to stay close to the hub. Maybe there’s some sort of salvation found around others this weekend.
Outside of 3 Kings, there’s a large white truck with an open side facing the sidewalk. A man with a half-assed blue hair dye job spots a friend. “Did you hear what happened?” he shouts.
“I got gum on my balls!”
.
Two comics attempt stand-up out of the truck with a mobile crowd, but people are determined to reach their next destination.
There’s a baby asleep at the main stage, ears covered with huge blue headphones. Dad bounces back and forth, rocking out, rocking baby.
In the foyer of the South Broadway Christian Church, tiny tea candles adorn a small table. Itap easy to miss, with the crowd waiting to see the Raven and the Writing Desk. But there they are, thoughts, prayers, for today’s victims, enveloped in wax and flame. It sets off a bit more heat. The air is sticky in this place.
The juxtaposition is astonishing. Here are a hundred people, more, sitting in pews next to scripture while a xylophone clanks and clashes, violins wail, the projection of a dancer sputters. Applause resonates in the room; cheers fill the church.
As people disperse from the main stage after seeing Big Freedia and the Divas, more than a few comment, “I couldn’t help it, my booty just started poppin’.” Booty is clearly the only acceptable word, but sometimes “shakin’” replaces “poppin’.”
Closer inspection of a poster later in the night, using the last of a dying cell phone light, reveals gum ball man is Mark Star, of Mark Star Karaoke. Itap pretty obvious, now that squeaky versions of “If I Could Turn Back Time” can be heard blasting out of the truck. Stumbling volunteers get louder as the night goes on.
Up past the unofficial comfort barrier, there’s a spread of lights overhead at Compound Basix. The beams are almost holy, forming a half circle jutting out over the performers’ heads.
On the corner outside, a group of 20-somethings debate catching the last showing of Dark Knight. They can’t decide.
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Kelsey Fowler is the 2012 Features Intern at The Denver Post, currently studying nothing music-related at Ithaca College. Help keep her in the loop on .
