I spend some time each summer in Nederland, Colorado, which is a weird place. It’s not unusual to catch a man with three-foot dreadlocks who reeks of pot and my Oklahoman grandmother (who also reeks of pot, strangely) shopping on the same grocery aisle. Last summer I went to a show in a tiny elementary-school-auditorium-turned-movie-theatre with an audience who wouldn’t have looked out of place in Twin Peaks.

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