Masturbating is Not a Crime. Is Dreaming?

March 2, 2011

Town Pump, Fort Collins, Colo.

6:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m.

Notable Matter: Bumper stickers. Two favorites: “My boobs have fallen and they can’t get up,” “Masturbating is not a sin.”

Three people recommended the Town Pump as a Ft. Collins must see dive bar, but it’s far from a dive. Ft. Collins is its own thing and the people here have a skewed view of, well, everything.

This “dive bar” is small — bar, three round tables, a long table facing the street. It’s quintessential Ft. Collins. A highly educated city full of people who consider themselves open-minded because they have the ability to judge diplomatically.

The people here love the environment, but burn many a fossil fuel every weekend to travel via Subaru or SUV to ski, rock climb, snowmobile, kayak, etc.  They express their individualism by placing political signs in their yards, tattoos on their wrists. We think we’re different but we look the same.

Coors Light is the only domestic beer on tap but it’s buried behind all the microbrews and I don’t see it until after ordering New Belgium’s Dunkel Weiss, a German wheat with enough alcohol to keep me at a pint. The stickers covering the walls advertise ski resorts; breweries; environmental stewardship; health and exercise; and marijuana use.

This is not a dive bar. This is Fort Collins, the perfect hometown for a walking contradiction.

Masturbating is Not a Crime

But neither is chasing a dream. Unfortunately most people don’t see it that way, myself included.

Many have asked so I’ll go ahead and say it. I moved to Colorado. Alone. Why? Because I need freedom, I need to travel, I need to keep moving and writing. Many people tell me how lucky I am, how cool it must be to travel, how they’d like to do the same, etc. But they don’t. Why? Because dreams and nightmares co-exist and what goes up must come down.

Yes, I’m completely unattached but I’m not a trust fund baby and my free spirit is often smothered by practicality. I’m free but anxious. Excited but terrified. Unattached but alone. I remind myself every day that it’s OK to chase what I need, what I want, but I don’t always believe it. I’ve been trained not to. I think we all have.

I love Ft. Collins, but living here is like looking in a mirror, watching myself talk out of both sides of my mouth. Travel? Job? Living with the ‘rents? Owning a home? Stay stateside? Move to Argentina? Find religion? Absorb alcohol?

Some places are too familiar for comfort, which is why I can’t stay here or anywhere for that matter. At least not right now. When I return from the Town Pump, I book my return ticket from Europe. Tonight I’ll book a ticket to Columbia. Columbia in April. Michigan, Iceland, Prague, Munich, Italy, Paris, Spain, Canary Islands, Michigan in May, June and July.

I’m a writer on the run. How unusual.

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8 Responses to “Masturbating is Not a Crime. Is Dreaming?”

  1. christine said

    You sound so lonely and sad, and I am sad for you. Christine

  2. christine said

    Many people do not understand those of us who think deeply, or who may be a little bit messed up.

  3. Mike Cope said

    Hello, Ivy. I was in Ft. Collins in the fall. What a gorgeous place. I continue to follow your church/bar reviews.

    • thumpme said

      Ah! Wish I would have been there so I could have met you. I’m very curious to see what you think of today’s blog. Terrible, terrible experience.

  4. Steve 'the boat pusher' said

    I like the thought on Argentina. With Lobos, Hugo, and Malbec life would be good!

  5. […] in la-di-da land and am therefore losing patience with Colorado dive bars. Dive bars should not include microbrews on tap. They should lack decor, serve characters and stick […]

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