A Kansan In the Canyon (Fifth and Final Leg)

With the Grand Canyon conquered, I moved on to Petrified Forest National Park. The German man in the black jacket wanted to punch my lights out but I bonded with the enthusiastic tour guide.
















I'm a petroglyph geek.

















Is there life on Mars?

















They know how to write a headline in Arizona. And terrestrial radio provided hour after hour of outstanding entertainment on my return trip. Monitoring Navajo and Hopi radio proved fascinating. "Tradio" is never less than hilarious. The NCAA tournament had also begun.















As I sat in Albuquerque's rush hour traffic I realized that it's a place I could happily call home. Later in the trip, I discovered that Oklahoma City has almost completely caught up with Kansas City. They deserve their NBA team.















In a previous life I felt like I owned Amarillo. It's the site of many of my most rewarding professional triumphs. The thick fog that enveloped the city was appropriate. I mustn't live in the past.
















There's no place like home.

A Kansan In the Canyon (Fourth Leg)

The race was on. Would I make it to The Grand Canyon before sunset? I covered a lot of ground but succeeded in beating the clock.















It's truly breathtaking.















And it's surreal- everything seems almost too perfect.















The key to fully enjoying the experience is getting off the beaten path.















Perhaps the natural beauty brings out the best in people. Myself excluded, almost all of the park's visitors- the ratio was equal parts American, European and Japanese- are ridiculously kind and friendly. (I'll pretend my unfortunate encounter with a French-Canadian never happened.)

















The on-site hotels were out of my price range, but I was delighted to discover that some of the park's facilities- including this cafeteria- haven't been updated in decades. Hello 1972!
















Obligatory animal shot.






















Here's my dirty little secret: I often suspected that the whole thing is a fake. It might be a colossal trompe-l'oeil.

A Kansan In the Canyon (Third Leg)

I left Taos in style by crossing the dizzying Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. It's a perfect spot for jumping if you're so inclined.















I'm not a fan of Thomas Kinkade's kitsch, but driving across northern Arizona made me realize that the postcard-perfect pastoral scenes he often depicts actually exist.
















Where's my snowboard?















The constantly changing landscape of U.S. 64 is amazing.















This shot was taken within minutes of the previous two.















Ship Rock in the Navajo Nation is quite the landmark.















I wanted to cross Utah off my list. That's my excuse for visiting the miserable Four Corners tourist trap. It's a sad place. Still, that's 40 down, 10 to go...















Spectacular? Yes, but the best is yet to come.

A Kansan In the Canyon (Second Leg)

The real fun began in New Mexico.




















I took in the dinosaur tracks at Clayton Lake State Park.















Members of the anti-evolution set have attempted to rewrite the explanatory texts.















Had I known that the path around the rim at Capulin Volcano was covered with ice, I wouldn't have attempted the hike. Scary! The vistas, however, were worth the trouble.
















An inspection of The Vietnam Veterans Memorial State Park gave me much-needed perspective.
















Spending two nights in Taos was a mistake. I'd always wanted to experience the town. I reckoned it was an ideal match for my sensibilities. Maybe that was true twenty years ago. The place just irritates me now.






















With its crass tourist trappings, Taos is no more than a laughably pretentious version of Branson, Missouri. And there's a palpable tension in the air. While shopping for groceries at Albertson's, I witnessed open hostility between angry, disillusioned anarchists and Volvo-driving richies. It was an ugly scene.















Still, there's no denying Taos' gorgeous setting. Fun in the snow provided a welcome respite from rancorous humans.

A Kansan In the Canyon (First Leg)

2,772 miles.

That's the length of the road trip I just completed.

I'd hoped to visit a glamorous location like Berlin or Buenos Aires for spring break, but the global economic crisis nixed that dream. Still, my traveling jones must be sated.

A trek to the Grand Canyon was my fallback plan. Not bad, right?
















There's a catch. The quality of life in the Kansas City area is great until it's time to escape. We're surrounded by hundreds of miles of empty space. All that time behind the wheel made my head and back ache. Still, I enjoyed every mile once I learned to pop Aleve and Tylenol like candy.






















The trip began with an obligatory visit to kin in western Kansas. The state's back roads are the only way to go.
















I finally made it to Oklahoma. I drove through the state's panhandle at night. Staring at the stars was a mystical experience. I'd forgotten that the night sky seems three dimensional and eerily alive without the veil of urban lights.




















Restaurants and upscale hotels weren't an option. Food came from grocery stores and sleep was found at relatively inexpensive motels.

UR So Gay: Warped Tour 2008

Skinny white boys with guitars have gone a little stale for me.

Since that's Warped Tour's stock in trade, I decided to approach this year's edition of the annual festival from a different angle. As a crusty Warped Tour veteran, and because only a few of the skinny white boys with guitars (SWBWG) on this year's schedule appealed to me, I made it a mission to deliberately seek out alternatives at the so-called alternative festival.

I wasn't disappointed.

Far and away the most popular act appearing in Bonner Springs, Kansas, Wednesday was the female-fronted Paramore. The second hottest artist on the bill was Katy Perry. She currently owns the #1 song in the country, "I Kissed a Girl." I prefer "UR So Gay", Perry's other big hit. Also, Travis McCoy of Gym Class Heroes made international headlines just the day before by getting arrested after accosting a fan in St. Louis.






















No corner of the Warped Tour grounds may be less popular than the hip hop tent. Yet it's where much of the most vital sounds can be heard. That's Kansas City favorite Reach above.






















Othello (in green) studies MilkDrop.

"I know hip hop isn't for everyone," Othello told passerby. "If we're not going to keep it real, let's keep it fake."






















I couldn't tell if Piotta was kidding. He has a Borat-style vibe going on. The Italian is pointing at me because I was his entire audience.






















I don't know what's happening here. I quickly retreated after grabbing this shot.


















3OH!3 is a duo that goofs on house, hip hop and electronica. They became annoying after ten minutes. The similar but superior Kansas City act Bacon Shoe manages to keep me laughing for a full thirty minutes.

















Although I listened to about twenty minutes of Paramore's set from the side of the stage, I wasn't brave enough to elbow my way through the group's rabid fans to get a decent snapshot. Instead, here's a picture of thousands of happy young ladies watching their heroine.
















Charlotte Something caught a really bad break- she performed opposite Paramore.

















Fight! Fight! Fight! is from St. Louis.






















The Warped Tour is always good for a handful of surprises. This year two acts I'd never heard of completely astounded me. The Lordz, a group of Brooklyn geezers, were right in my wheelhouse.

"How many of you people know Run-DMC? The Clash? The Ramones?" the guy in the hat asked. "Mix all that sh*t up and this is what you got."

Perfect.






















Comedic rapper MC Chris drew about 200 fans who knew the words to most every song. What the heck! Who were these dorky guys and "Nrrrd Grrrrl"s? Yeah, I fit right in. Word up!






















The Horrorpops brought the psychobilly.






















I don't know the age of Brandon Phillips, but he's no longer a boy. The Architects remain one of Kansas City's best live bands.

And what about the SWBWG? Well, I'll confess to enjoying Against Me!, Say Anything and August Burns Red. I even liked the Higher's funky pop songs.






















I just had to include a second image of Katy Perry. She's teasing a security guy in this shot.






















A lot of drama was associated with the day's Gym Class Heroes performance. Travis McCoy was arrested onstage less than 24 hours previously. Cries of "Free Travis" were raised from stages throughout the day.

In spite of a pronounced limp, Travis was there and in fine form.

"I made a boo boo yesterday," he admitted.

The guy's a rock star.

It had been unbearably humid all day. About twenty minutes into the Gym Class Heroes' set, rain began to fall. The band tore into a thrash number. Buckets of rain suddenly fell from the sky.

You haven't lived until you've heard hundreds of emo kids scream in response to nearby lightning strikes. I imagine some of the loudest shrieks came from SWBWG.

Ashton Shepherd at Country In the Woods

Ashton Shepherd is trying her darndest to bring drinkin' and cheatin' songs back to country music's mainstream.

The placid audience at the free Country In the Woods festival in the Kansas City area was having none of it. Great songs like "Takin' Off This Pain" were greeted with stony silence. She only connected with a cover of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's "Fishin' In the Dark."

















Lonestar was the headliner, and I suspect that many people were just waiting to sing along with "Amazed". Yet I adored Shepherd. She splits the difference between the feel of the early commercial work by fellow Alabama natives Shelby Lynne and Allison Moorer.

















I was largely indifferent to opening act Adam Gregory. He seemed stuck to a rigid formula created in a Nashville boardroom. ("Let's find a good-looking guy who's part Jack Ingram and part Keith Urban.")

I had to laugh when he tripped up on the name of a local country radio station. He had thanked their competitor in his introduction to the previous song. Gregory then anxiously and apologetically blurted "I'd like to thank K104." The Q104 staff surely didn't take offense, but it's a drag to see an artist running scared.

Say Anything at KC Live

Say Anything, the penultimate emo band, performed on the Kansas City Power & Light District stage Wednesday night. While no one cried and there was little sulking to be seen, angular haircuts and stereotypical fashion statements were plentiful.

Considering the band's popularity and that the free event was promoted by a 96.5 The Buzz radio remote, attendance was distressingly light. There were probably more people inside the entertainment district's bars than in front of the stage. Power & Light's age restriction- no one under the age of 21 can enter- likely kept the band's core audience away. But the 500 or so people there for Say Anything (above and below) were very passionate about the band.






















It seemed like almost everyone but me was singing along to songs I'd never heard, like "Yellow Cat (Slash) Red Cat". The songs I was familiar with, including current single "Shiksa", sounded great.

One of the evening's highlights had nothing to do with music. During the break between bands, the Royals-Cardinals game was featured on the video screen behind the stage. Loud cheers greeted eighth inning home runs by David DeJesus and Alex Gordon. Who knew emo fans cared about baseball?

















Unlike the Royals' batters, Queens Club (above) failed to make contact.

Significantly less impressive than the promising music posted at their MySpace page, Queens Club came across as a High School Musical version of a Cure-influenced indie rock band. With proper stewardship, they could develop into a noteworthy act.

Wednesday night, however, they looked and sounded like tentative kids brought up to the big leagues too soon.