OH MY GOSH!
a brush with greatness

Telluride likes to be Googled. She also likes to be tickled and teased by the media. Visa and Budweiser commercials (among many others), movies, blurbs in national magazines, festivals up the yin/yang and drop-dead gorgeous scenery attract celebs, authors, a high-powered Who’s Who list of politicians and business people, and a smattering of Average Joes and Josephines. All walk around Telluride’s comfortably zoned areas with stealth eye-powered vehicles propped upon their noses, driving away UV rays for the cost of most people’s monthly car installments. “It’s kinda nice,” Telluride says to herself, “to be a little famous. Actually, I like it a lot!”
In the last decade, Telluride has had a brush with greatness. In fact, right about now she’s experiencing the most splendid episode of her 150 years. She’s thriving and styling like she’s never thrived and styled before. Telluride bursts with vibrant folks who use their time in exceedingly productive and creative fashions. She also had a $41 million real estate climax last July, which transferred lands of lofty peaks, fab views and promises of more intoxicating times ahead.
It’s not the mighty moos from the holsteins, who graze their summer days away on the land of controversy (the Open Space territory west of Tride), that beckon visitors and excellent, new citizens to Telluride’s voluptuous corridors. Telluride’s over-throttle, zoom-zoom residents certainly add to our town’s personality, but they’re not the whole reason this colorful little town is experiencing a brush with greatness. Nor does the derivation of Telluride’s reputed eminence come from the wacky Cardboard Derby, Bikini Slalom or Rubber Ducky races that show off Telluride’s athletic prowess and propensity to laugh and have a good time. The basis for Telluride being a “hot spot, hot shot” destination resort for the last decade is rooted in goo; the lack thereof, that is. The goo be gone here.
Loaded in carbs, goo not only makes hair resemble a crusty, greasy plate of french fries, it looks as unnatural as a flamingo wearing pantihose, ski-surfing down one of Telluride’s infamous bump runs. (The flamingo migration happens here every March, by the way.) Further, it’s not that this quirky mountain town doesn’t appreciate the fascinating aspects goo can do for you—sculpting, glittery effects, added height and volume—it’s just she is soooo much more charmed by natural effervesce. The unveiling of most everyone’s helmet and hat-head hair at the end of a ski day presents another sweet surprise to onlookers’ days on the slopes. Ooohwee! Did you see the double peaks that made Tommy look devilishly cute? Perhaps you’ve gleaned the “swirling hurricane” nestled atop Billy Bob’s head. Don’t forget about Jennifer’s spiraling curls doing the full-tilt-to-the-right thingy that makes her look like a dizzy blonde when she’s actually a bona fide #124 brunette with purple and orange highlights.
Hairy situations without goo puts the walk and talk in Telluride’s personality. In other words, she’s a “for real” place that embraces “for real” people. Matter of fact, Telluride likes just about everything hairy. Masquerades, facades and those embellishing, gunky, gooey pretenses are all inclined to get whiplashed into reality. Telluridians are apt to impose their goo-be-gone mindsets on anyone who descends upon their revered community. See for yourself, Telluride’s brush with greatness is rooted in a world of goolessness. (Say goo-less-ness three-and-a-half times very fast.) Gotcha!