Photo by Stephanie Scott

Last December during finals week, Helen went on a “study bender.”

Like she does often when it comes down to crunch time, Helen, then a junior interior design major, took Adderall to help her make it through a mountain of stress-inducing projects.

“When you take Adderall, it makes it so you’re really focused on what you’re doing,” she says. Coffee doesn’t help – it doesn’t make her concentrate, only stay awake. “If I’ve taken Adderall, I can turn on my iPod and get in the zone.”

But the bender turned into a marathon.

After four days and no sleep, Helen started to feel the side effects. When her jaw locked up, she chewed gum. An occasional cigarette break dampened her shakes for a little, but they never disappeared. Eventually, she can’t remember when, she passed a threshold.

“At that point, I was hallucinating and not there. That’s really unhealthy and I wouldn’t recommend it,” she says. “If I were a normal person, I would be concerned.”

A few months later during mid-terms, Helen went on another bender, taking at least one time-release pill – which can keep her awake for up to 11 hours at a time – every day for three weeks. She recently transferred from Colorado State University to Front Range Community College in Fort Collins, but chose to remain anonymous because she uses Adderall without a prescription.

“I wouldn’t say I’m addicted to Adderall because I don’t take it on a daily basis,” she says, mentioning that she only buys and keeps 2 to 3 pills at a time. “I just take one when I need to study. It’s like steroids.”

And Helen is not alone.

Adderall, a stimulant used to treat Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, is breaking the stereotype that drug abuse is always recreational. A 2008 study by the National Institute of Drug Abuse looked at over 35 years of drug trends and found college students are twice as likely to abuse prescription stimulants as their peers outside of college.

“I believe prescription drugs can be very dangerous and there’s a reason they are controlled,” says Mari Strombom, the acting director of residence life at CSU. “It concerns me when people are using prescription drugs to self-medicate. I believe there is the potential for future harm.”

Not only is Adderall abuse seen as acceptable, but the pills are also more readily available than ever. The FDA estimates around 30 million Adderall prescriptions were written in the U.S. between 1999 and 2003, more than any other country.

Research suggests that Adderall abuse is a cultural phenomenon. A 2005 report in the journal “Addiction” found connections between a high-stress college environment and Adderall abuse. At institutions with strict admissions standards, such as Ivy League schools, the usage rate was as high as 25 percent – a number that continues to grow.

Beyond Adderall and the Study Hall

Adderall is just one aspect of the legal drug culture. Prescription drug abuse is a growing trend across college campuses and the United States as a whole. According to the 2009 National Collegiate Health Assessment, an annual survey of over 80,000 college students, nearly 13 percent of students reported that they abused prescription drugs, the third most commonly used substances behind alcohol and marijuana.

“We’ve definitely seen an increase [in prescription drug abuse] in the past 10 years,” says Jim Weber, director of the DAY Program, a substance abuse counseling program at CSU. “It’s much more acceptable to this current generation.”

From 1999 to 2004, the number of young adults aged 15 to 24 who died from unintentional overdose nearly doubled, according to a 2007 report by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Of the drugs used, most were prescription painkillers like OxyContin – heroin’s legal equivalent – which Weber claims can be the most addictive.

“Its perceived safety is equal to risk,” Weber says. “Culturally, there’s this divide. We don’t see pills as bad. This contributes to this false sense of safety and security that says ‘It’s safe because a doctor gave it to me.’”

Along with depressants like Xanax, stimulants and painkillers make up a trifecta of the most highly abused prescriptions. Adderall and OxyContin are both classified as schedule II narcotics by the Drug Enforcement Administration, sharing a place alongside cocaine and methamphetamine.

Despite the numbers, education and research efforts targeting college students have been few and far between. The NCHA only recently included specific questions about prescriptions – much as they have done with alcohol and marijuana since the survey began in 2000 – making it difficult to draw any broad, long-term conclusions about student abuse.

After participating since 2003, CSU stopped giving the NCHA survey to everyone but student athletes in the spring of 2008 – the same semester prescription drug questions were introduced.

“We just wanted behavioral data about our students,” says Debra Morris, a health educator with the CSU Health Network who helped administer the survey. “Why are prescription drugs not included? I just don’t know. So many students come to university with prescription drugs, and other people will want to use them to stay awake longer. So yes, I think it’s a concern.”

The Other Side of Prescription Addiction

Eric Lintz, a detective with the CSU Police Department and Northern Colorado Drug Task Force, claims that even at the law enforcement level, prescription drugs are not a hot topic.

“It’s not fancy, it’s not glamorous,” Lintz says. “Someone in the office says, “I’m going to get a guy with three grams of coke,’ compared to ‘I’m going to buy three grams of pills.’ It’s not the same. It’s not sexy.”

In the past twelve months, Lintz claims that around a dozen college-aged students were arrested for selling heroin to undercover officers in Northern Colorado. Heroin is a cheap alternative to the more expensive prescription opioids.

“These kids at one time were majoring in school,” Lintz says. “But as they drop out they still have to eat and still have to live, so they go to the only thing they know. And that’s selling drugs.”

The 2005 “Addiction” study adds weight to Lintz’s experience. It found that students who abused prescription stimulants were 20 times more likely to use cocaine and 10 times more likely to use marijuana.

“If you’re doing something that doesn’t require brain power but just focus, my friends and I will smoke weed,” Helen admits, saying that marijuana is better than cigarettes for counteracting the side effects of Adderall. In addition, she has taken Xanax, ecstasy, Ambien and acid.

Despite its perceived prevalence on a college campus, prescription drug abuse at CSU is hardly documented. David McKelfresh, the executive director of assessment and research for the division of student affairs, and Pam McCracken, the communications director for the CSU Health Network, both say the university is not collecting data on prescription drug abuse by CSU students.

“When it comes to feeding the mind or feeding the addiction, the addiction wins,” Lintz believes.

For now, Weber is the main point of contact for students who have struggled with abuse. A point he stresses to students is that taking drugs without a prescription is a felony, no matter how they are taken or sold.

“They’re safe if used in accordance with how they’re prescribed,” Lintz says. Like several officials, he relates prescription drug education efforts to alcohol in the wake of Sam Spady’s death in 2004 – as reactionary. “I think the problem is bigger than even law enforcement recognizes. I hope it doesn’t take someone OD’ing for the community to wake up to the problem.”

When asked if she could make it through finals without the help of Adderall, Helen hesitates.

“None of it’s safe, obviously, but when I take it I know I’m not going to die,” she says. “Everything other than Adderall I take recreationally. And I don’t do that often. I could do finals week [without it], but why would I want to? It would be counter-productive.”

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

From outside, the two-story cottage just north of the Colorado State University campus looks much as it did in 1902 – simple gray stone walls, red-trimmed roof and a single tall window on the second floor. Today, sandwiched between two office complexes, the building is easy to miss.

A surveillance camera housed in black glass and a small sign by the doorbell give the only indication of what is inside: Medicinal Gardens of Colorado, 420 S. Howes St.

Like most medical marijuana dispensaries, or MMDs, a visitor must ring the bell before being allowed inside. On an afternoon in late March, three staff members mill around a small waiting room – wearing professional nametags, they are the cannabis equivalent of Target or Best Buy employees. The marijuana is sold in a separate room, displayed in glass jars with labels describing the strain and dosage.

Tim Gordon is well-versed in the history of the cottage. He lists a number of different uses since the turn of the century – a school, a train depot, a farmer’s carriage house. Gordon, a 36-year-old Army veteran with black shoulder-length dreadlocks, is the co-owner of Medicinal Gardens. Since opening in June 2009, he and business partner Travis Cutbirth have become the go-to pot experts for patients and city officials alike.

“Travis and I know the medicine, we know the laws,” says Gordon, sitting in a small classroom on the second floor where he teaches courses such as how to cook with cannabis. “We’re good growers and good caregivers. I think I have one of the larger patient bases in Larimer County because of that.”

Gordon estimates 70 percent of his clients are around 40 years old, and a subdued atmosphere is one way Medicinal Gardens appeals to this majority. Shying away from stoner-culture imagery – a few blocks south off Elizabeth Street, the MMJ Dispensary uses a cannabis leaf for a symbol – was a conscious choice.

“Medical marijuana has never been scary when it’s medicine,” Gordon says. “I want people to feel comfortable to bring their children inside, sit in the lobby and get their medicine.”

Medicinal Gardens doesn’t just show the evolution of a Fort Collins landmark – it is at the forefront of an issue that has exploded across Colorado in the past year. Today, the Colorado Medical Marijuana Registry estimates there are nearly 63,000 registered patients in the state, up from just 5,000 in March 2009.

Gordon and Cutbirth are navigating a burgeoning industry that, despite their greatest efforts, is in danger of being stripped to the bone by September 2010.

“They’re making rules in the fear of marijuana,” Gordon says, referring to the mish-mash of legislation that has swamped state and local government. “They know it’s legal, but they fear it. Does medical reefer exist? Hell yeah, it exists.”

The Green Rush

MMDs are a budding sight in Fort Collins, but medical marijuana has been legal for nearly a decade in Colorado. In November 2000, voters passed Amendment 20, making it a treatment option for patients suffering from cancer, glaucoma, AIDS and other forms of chronic or severe pain. It also identified a key player in the new legal cannabis world – the primary caregiver, someone who “has significant responsibility for managing the well-being of a patient.”

On the surface, it was a major victory for pot advocates and a blessing for patients. But Larimer County District Attorney Larry Abrahamson claims a lack of foresight led many to take advantage of the laws, blindsiding government officials.

Of the 14 states with legal marijuana, Colorado is the only one to make access a part of its constitution. Because state amendments are much more difficult to change than statutes, Abrahamson calls this a mistake.

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

“There’s very little that is clear and unambiguous about the issue,” Fort Collins Police Services Cpt. Jerry Schiager says. Others agree the amendment is riddled with drawbacks. It places a heavy burden on city governments to make zoning restrictions and makes no mention of MMDs or cultivators.

“Marijuana is still a pretty low priority drug,” Schiager says. “We have methamphetamine, coke, some of those other things that are a bigger public concern. We didn’t follow [medical marijuana] until it fell into our laps.”

Schiager points to 2009 as the beginning of the current pot industry boom. In August, the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment loosely defined the duties of a caregiver – “significant responsibility” could be interpreted as simply providing marijuana through a storefront – and lifted a previous restriction that said they could only claim five patients.

While patients are not required to designate a caregiver, Gordon says many don’t have the means or know-how to grow in their homes. Local entrepreneurs filled this need, sometimes acting as caregivers for 150 patients or more, Abrahamson says.

“The combination of those things really opened the door for the profit making-retail model,” Schiager says. “The restrictions that were in place had kept it really underground and small.”

Suddenly, the rush was on.

Like the plants they sell, MMDs grew organically, popping up in shopping centers all around Fort Collins. In early 2009, there were three registered commercial MMDs. When the city put a moratorium on sales tax licenses in December, there were 36 – three more than the number of licensed liquor stores in March.

Now, state lawmakers are scrambling to keep up. Their biggest question: How do you regulate a business where, according to Abrahamson, people are able to grow a pound of marijuana for $300 and sell it for $5,000 from storefronts – the legal equivalent of large-scale drug dealing?

“They found out they could make a lot of money really fast,” says Abrahamson, although he didn’t name any specific Fort Collins businesses. “Dispensaries are huge money makers.”

“A Nightmare”

MMD owners in Fort Collins, however, claim they make little to no money. They are nervous that lawmakers are creating legislation based on a few questionable businesses and doctors that are purely profit-driven.

“You’ve got these big business owners who are trying to change the rules and the smaller guys are crying foul,” says Terri Lynn, owner of the marijuana delivery service Natural Alternatives for Health. “The whole while patients are saying, ‘What about me?’”

As former commander of the Northern Colorado Drug Task Force, Schiager sees some unnerving parallels between legal and illegal marijuana. Since MMDs began opening en masse, at least six home-growers have been robbed, some at gunpoint.

And the criminal element extends beyond violence. Because the definition of severe pain is vague, numerous Web sites have appeared, giving tips on what symptoms to claim and which doctors are more likely to “rubber-stamp” a recommendation.

Although the registry is approaching a six-month backlog – the office receives over 1,000 applications a day – in September 2009, there were 800 doctors in Colorado who had recommended marijuana to patients. Because marijuana is a plant, it is not an FDA-approved prescription drug or covered by healthcare providers like Anthem and the CSU Health Network. Doctors who have been stripped of their ability to write prescriptions – a federally regulated license – can still sign a marijuana card.

“To curb recreational use, what they need to do is go upstream to the doctors,” Lynn believes. Because she grows in her home, she uses a different last name to protect herself and her patients’ privacy. “I think it’s a nightmare for real patients. There are a lot of unintended consequences that council members are regulating. It’s very fear-based and focused on recreational use.”

A Growing (Student) Problem

As a college town, Fort Collins is enticing. Roughly half of all current MMDs are within 2 miles of CSU, a fact the city hasn’t overlooked.

“I think having a university here makes for a really tempting market, and maybe a market that is tempted,” says Ginny Sawyer, an administrator with Fort Collins neighborhood services. She mentions that aside from using, students are growing in homes with little to no security. “Probably this next renting cycle, you will see some very spelled-out clauses saying ‘no growing on-site.’”

Kris Ticnor, owner of the property agency My House, has seen this problem first hand.  When she went to inspect the home of two long-time tenants, she discovered 100 marijuana plants. The residents, also CSU students, had gone through all the steps to register themselves as a private MMD, but they overlooked Ticnor – neither the city nor the tenants notified her when the tax license was approved.

“Their position was, ‘No one comes to our door, we deliver it,’” Ticnor says, stressing that the two lived next to an elderly man. “My position is all it takes is one person, who is high on something else, and all of a sudden cops are all over and I’ve broken my promise to those neighbors.”

Instead of pressing charges or evicting the tenants, she allowed them to stay if they paid for the mold damage caused by the plants. Although she is not against medical marijuana, she sees the situation as one way it can be abused.

“There are certain community organizations that will grab onto this issue as a student issue, not a pot issue,” Ticnor says. “It will become a bad tagline for students.”

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

Sawyer and Schiager were part of a city committee that wrote a new ordinance to regulate MMDs. They held focus groups with patients, business owners and other community members, a process Ticnor believes was a token gesture and similar to the contested 3-unrelated ordinance.

The resulting law, passed on March 16, mapped out defined areas around the city where MMDs can be located. A major concern for the committee was keeping large-scale grows like the one Ticnor found out of residential areas. After July 14, all cultivators and MMDs operating in homes will be illegal – including Lynn’s.

“People already growing illegally will stay that way,” she says. “There’s no need for an ordinance to control them. You’re going to have folks like me who were legal, who will either have to go out of business or move out of the city in order to sustain the model.”

Schiager realizes this will shut down many already-established businesses, but the regulations are meant to protect communities and define what he calls “crazy, contradictory laws.”

On the other side, business owners and activists are fighting decades of pot prejudice. While the ordinance was being written, Gordon and Cutbirth arranged a tour of several local dispensaries to showcase their business model and prove that marijuana can be a viable medicine.

“Initially, there was a lot of apprehension and fear on all sides,” Gordon says. “Now, it’s like, ‘Wow, there is a legitimate need [for MMDs]. We’ve seen how it works and it’s not that bad.’”

The committee was immediately impressed; Schiager often deferred to Gordon and Cutbirth with questions about the ordinance. Despite this relationship, Medicinal Gardens is one of 30 MMDs that could be forced to move or close their doors. The new zoning and spacing requirements could effectively regulate them out of business, something that frustrates Gordon.

“It’s 2010 – 10 years after laws could’ve been implemented and put into effect,” Gordon says. “They are dragging their feet.”

Colorado’s Pot Predicament

Don is a 29-year-old CSU freshman history major and former Marine who tore his rotator cuff while stationed in Washington D.C. After several years, his shoulder never healed and military doctors kept prescribing painkillers “like candy.” By the summer of 2009, he was taking up to four 800-milligram pills at a time, as often as four times a day. He got his registry card in December after developing stomach ulcers from the dosage.

“I’m not doing it to get wasted and stoned,” Don says. “I eventually decided that relief from the pain was worth it. It is something I can afford to do without being screwed up from all the pills.”

Don chose to remain anonymous because his relief comes at a risk: While possession is still a federal crime, he could lose the Veterans Affairs benefits that pay for his tuition.

Don’s unease shows the fickle relationship between state and federal law. Despite a 2009 presidential directive, there is still concern and confusion about personal rights. Marijuana is considered a Schedule I narcotic, on par with ecstasy and mescaline.

“Federal government – the Obama administration – has said they don’t care about medical marijuana,” says Brian Vicente, executive director of Sensible Colorado, a Denver-based marijuana advocacy group. “But the [Drug Enforcement Administration] didn’t get the memo. We have a branch of the government that is acting in a rogue manner and harassing patients and providers.”

In March, Sensible Colorado teamed with Americans for Safe Access, a national lobbying organization, to train Fort Collins community members and MMD employees on how to react to DEA raids.

“We thought it was important to educate people on how to deal with DEA intervention in Colorado,” Vicente says. “We wanted to send a message to the federal government saying we don’t want any intervention in state laws.”

Spurred by this federal bullying, lawmakers from both parties have created a laundry list of legal marijuana legislation.

State Rep. Tom Massey, a Republican, has sponsored a recent bill that would address what he calls the “loopholes” in Colorado law that allow for MMDs. Dubbed the Colorado Medical Marijuana Code, it would to create the State Licensing Authority for marijuana to track all MMDs, similar to the patient registry.

Another bill, introduced in the Senate, would redefine the physician/patient relationship, requiring doctors to perform a full physical and keep separate records of all patients they recommend for marijuana. It would also prevent doctors from having any connection with MMDs.

With state legislation still up in the air indefinitely – after a major overhaul in the House, the patient/physician bill failed the Senate on March 26 and was sent back to committee – there is a sense of exasperation in Fort Collins.

When asked if he ever imagined himself on a legal marijuana committee, Schiager chuckles.

“I hope this doesn’t turn into a five-year project,” he sighs. “This was never an issue I was looking for to define my career.”

But MMD owners and city officials, including Sawyer, feel that the people at the heart of the legislation – the patients – may have been lost in the process.

“They were able to find caregivers and it made their lives functional,” Sawyer says, recalling the story of a 60-year-old woman who suffered for years with multiple sclerosis until she discovered marijuana. “That is who I would hate to see put at risk by such strong regulations.”

The activist in Gordon remains hopeful that the city won’t force any current MMDs to move. A decision on whether to grandfather the 30 violating businesses under the ordinance will not be made until September. But he is still afraid bureaucracy could stall or even destroy a good thing.

“My biggest fear – myself as a patient and an activist – is I don’t want my patients deferring to street drugs,” Gordon says. “I will fight tooth and flippin’ nail to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

The changes were made after many dispensary owners expressed concern that they were being made illegal by regulations. The original ordinance, passed on March 16, allowed for over 850 acres of land citywide for dispensaries and around 1,500 acres for cultivation sites. The proposed zoning changes will add an additional 544 acres for cultivation outside of industrial zones.

“Even in the public comments, people seemed pretty agreeable,” said Ginny Sawyer, an administrator with Fort Collins Neighborhood Services, noting that dispensary owners and other community members were in attendance at the meeting. “It’s hard to tell who is representing who, but overall, I think people were positive.”

According to Sawyer, the decision to up the amount of marijuana that can be bought in a seven day period was based on feedback from dispensary owners. The change only applies to licensed dispensaries who handle multiple patients, not individuals or single primary caregivers.

“I think those are arbitrary amounts and I didn’t hear any compelling argument that 4 oz. was needed to protect patient’s rights under Amendment 20,” said councilmember Wade Troxell, who voted against the change.

Amendment 20, passed in 2000, is the Colorado law that allows for medicinal use of marijuana by state-licensed patients. It makes no mention of dispensaries or commercial cultivation.

Presently, only six of 36 total commercial dispensaries are legal under the March 16 ordinance. Most of the new property under the proposed grow site changes will be north of Mulberry Street along College Avenue. There is only one dispensary that currently operates in that area.

The changes will allow for dispensaries to grow on-site, addressing complaints that the ordinance set aside a disproportionately  small amount of land, most of which is controlled by property owners who do not want cultivators in their buildings. All on-site growing must have separate ventilation and security, and patients will not be allowed access at any time.

“From my perspective, there wasn’t enough evidence put forward that the industrial zoning needed to be expanded,” Troxell said. “For example, under the original ordinance, you had one square mile of industrial land available for cultivators. If that’s not enough for patients and caregivers, I don’t know what is.”

Troxell, who played an important role in passing the original ordinance, was the single dissenting vote on both measures. After revision, the changes will be sent to council on May 4 for a second reading before being made final.

“I’m leery of any expansion attempts because I think the ordinance that was put into place was well-crafted and thought through,” Troxell said. “When you start to incrementally change, you allow for a lot of uninteded consequences.”

The April 20 decision was the first in a long string of future challenges to the ordinance. After the second reading and expected final approval on May 4, current businesses will have until June 30 to reapply for a medical marijuana license.

By July 14, all dispensaries and growers in residential areas will have to shut down and remove their inventory, one of the major goals of the original ordinance.

In September, the council will meet to decide whether the 36 current commercial businesses can stay at their present location. Until then, the city will not grant tax or marijuana licenses to new businesses.

Photo Illustration by Stephanie Scott

 Jill is a bit of an Internet junkie. She has multiple postings in online classifieds, a personal Web site and several profiles that describe her qualities – she says friends tend to call her “cheerful, bright, warm, illuminating and powerful” – as well as her weight, height, measurements and when she is available for incalls and outcalls.

Other information, such as Jill’s real name, telephone number, home address and employer remain carefully guarded to protect her from law enforcement. Jill is an Adult Service Provider (ASP), the industry-preferred name for a prostitute.

“There are two reasons you can’t tell people [you are a prostitute],” she says. “One is the legal aspect, self-preservation. The other is that people, especially older people, can not fathom that you could have a total stranger come to you and be safe.”

Outside of her virtual life, Jill is the same person she presents for strangers as an ASP. Unlike many providers, who hide any distinguishing marks such as tattoos and even their faces online, Jill has never posted a picture that wasn’t absolutely real.

“I don’t believe in misrepresenting myself,” she says, noting that all pictures on her Web site are current as of this past May. “I want someone to come and say I am more attractive than in my picture.”

Jill is a Colorado State University graduate who came to Northern Colorado as a student and never left. She enjoys the Fort Collins community, especially the music scene and jam bands, and describes herself as a “spiritual, loving person.” She closely follows the debate over medical marijuana and is a firm believer in “all or nothing” when it comes to the regulation of controlled substances. Above all, she says, Fort Collins is her home.

Jill has been operating in northern Colorado for nearly 20 years. Her roommate was the first person to suggest she become a prostitute.

“She told me, ‘You get along with the bros and the cowboys and everyone. You should be an escort,’” Jill says, mentioning that only a few close friends today know about her chosen profession.

Along with being a prostitute – her primary source of income – she also has a professional job in Fort Collins as a self-described “healer.” Despite her efforts at transparency on the Internet and with friends, she admits her job would be in jeopardy if someone discovered she was a prostitute. She asked that both her real name and provider name be changed. The issue of anonymity and safety, as with everything she does, is still her primary concern.

“I think these things – drugs, sex, anything – are going to happen no matter what,” Jill explains. She believes the majority of victimless crimes should be made legal, noting that when illegal, they often do more to destroy lives than if they were accepted. She doesn’t, however, see this as a fatalist mentality and is proud of what she does. After spending nearly half her life as a prostitute, it has influenced her worldview.

“I think our society is a very fearful society,” she says. “Our concept of monogamy has turned a society of people who don’t want to be liars and cheaters into liars and cheaters.”

Prostitution in Fort Collins and Northern Colorado is a relatively quiet business. A common misconception about prostitutes is that they are women who find business casually, walking the street and waiting for clients to come to them. This assumption is far from true. Modern prostitution is often highly organized and anonymous; when faced with criminal charges – a rare occurrence – most women will never talk. Like Jill, they are careful and leave very little solid evidence of their activity.

“We just don’t have the manpower to pursue it as heavily as other agencies with a vice unit,” says Jonathon Cox, an investigator with the Larimer County Sheriff’s Department.

Since most prostitutes do not operate in the open, they are able to maintain a low profile and ensure a discreet experience for their clients. Discretion, along with safety, is the No. 1 concern for both escorts and “Johns” – the term used by law enforcement to identify a man who solicits prostitution, according to Cox.

“People think [prostitution is] full of perverts and that’s not totally true,” Jill says. “It’s a whole different thing here in northern Colorado. We’re more down-to-earth and it’s less competitive than Denver.”

Cox admits it has been a long time since he worked a prostitution case. In his 17 years with the department, he can only remember a few specific instances of “popping” someone for soliciting sex. It is difficult to prosecute and convict a suspect because they must either confess or be caught in the act, which contributes to the hidden, almost non-existent nature of sex-for-hire.

“We have very little prostitution activities in Fort Collins and northern Colorado,” states Rita Davis, a spokeswoman for Fort Collins Police Services. Because different agencies deal with the problem individually, she admits that she may not be aware of every case.

According to state and federal law, a prostitute is any person, male or female, who receives payment to have sex with another person who is not their spouse. The most basic level of prostitution, soliciting sex is a misdemeanor with a maximum penalty of six months in prison and fines up to $750.

“There is no one agency that says they will be the lead point on prostitution,” Cox says. Because the punishment is minimal, the sheriff’s department rarely runs extensive undercover operations, and unless a person has been previously convicted, there is no database of people suspected of soliciting sex. Even after conviction, no specific data is kept on prostitution.

“We just don’t keep those kinds of statistics and don’t categorize by what type of crime was committed,” says Linda Jensen, the public information officer for the Larimer County District Attorney’s office.

“[The punishment is] generally fines,” Cox adds. “Fines and embarrassment, especially if they are married.”

With the exception of Nevada, prostitution in the United States operates illegally in various forms. The type most commonly targeted by law enforcement on a proactive basis involves organized rings, where multiple managers and prostitutes work collectively. In order to maintain a low profile, these operations often use a legal adult entertainment business as a cover. This can include massage parlors and escort services.

In 2009, Denver was the site of two prostitution busts, one in February and one in October. Altogether, over two dozen people were arrested in Denver and roughly 100 child prostitutes were rescued around the country, according to online reports by the Associated Press and 9News.

The busts were part of a nationwide initiative known as Operation Cross Country, spearheaded by the FBI and carried out with the help of local agencies. The raids targeted two massage parlors in Denver and resulted in the arrests of a wide variety of people – women and men, ranging from 18 to 48 years old – linked to child prostitution and human trafficking. No children were found in either raid on the Denver establishments.

“The police and the FBI have their eye on all these massage parlors,” Pam Harvey says. “There is the possibility that they could bring five or six down at a time.”

Harvey is the Colorado director of the Not For Sale Campaign, which is an international organization dedicated to identifying and assisting victims of human rights violations. She says human trafficking and prostitution do not always go hand in hand, but they can operate in similar ways. In general, Harvey explains that trafficking rings stay away from prostitution for one reason: trafficking is incredibly profitable – more so than drugs – as well as dangerous, and most people involved simply don’t need the additional money or attention that comes with prostitution.

For many women, especially those who are younger, the root of prostitution goes beyond money. From personal experience, Jill finds that the majority of women who become trapped in potentially dangerous situations are those who were sexually assaulted or abused as children. She enjoys her work and calls it a “viable profession,” something she largely credits to a good upbringing.

“I came from a healthy family with lots of love and wasn’t abused,” Jill says. Over the years, there were times when she found herself surrounded by drugs and other activities that overshadowed what she enjoyed about being a provider – the chance to connect with people and “open a whole new world” sexually – and knew she had to leave it behind.

“If you stay away from felony drugs or ripping people off and work with integrity, you’re OK,” she adds. “There are many people out there who involve their women in drugs.”

Jill is willing to be open about what she does because she has never been married and has no children. While she does not follow the same practices as other prostitutes to protect her identity, something that can make her legally vulnerable, she is safe and cautious with clients. She requires recommendations from at least one other established provider before arranging a meeting, typically someone she has networked with or knows personally. For outcalls – a meeting at a client’s home – she has a more strict set of criteria, but for safety reasons, she chose not to describe them. She advertises as “newbie friendly,” and incalls are open to anyone but held at a place she selects. The choice to work alone is another important security measure.

“Escort services are prostitution in a more legitimate verbiage,” says Sgt. Russ Reed with FCPS. Reed is head of the Crimes Against Persons division, which among other things, is in charge of investigating and arresting those involved with prostitution. Because concrete evidence is difficult to secure, if law enforcement suspects a business of being a front for prostitution, they can control it through logistic violations.

“That’s how a lot of jurisdictions get these places. They can’t pop them for prostitution, so they’ll get them through licensing,” Cox says. The police department has control over licensing and can easily stop illegal activity without solid charges of soliciting sex, but this only applies to businesses that operate in Fort Collins.

“I would say it’s everywhere,” Cox says. “The thing with escort services is that they can be based in Denver with a Denver phone number, but a guy in Fort Collins can still call looking for a party.”

Jill primarily meets with clients who live in northern Colorado. This is common for many providers, who have a general area they cover but don’t limit themselves to a specific city. There are no escort services based in Fort Collins, but many of the women who work for Colorado services travel throughout the state.

Sarah Pfauth is the sole owner and operator of the Denver-based business Elite Escorts. Changing the negative opinion people have about escort services was one of her goals when she started the company in August 2009.

“I have zero tolerance for prostitution,” Pfauth states. She works as a professional in two other jobs, but because of the possible backlash from her other employers, she chose not to name where she works. With the state of the economy, adding a third, private business seemed like a viable and profitable way to supplement her income.

Pfauth explains that she worked as an escort and exotic dancer seven years ago, and it is because of her experience in adult entertainment that she decided to try running a service of her own. During her time in the industry, she has seen many escort services earn the “unfortunate reputation” as fronts for prostitution.

“I’m trying to break the mold in a way,” she says. “I could see why [escort services] have that reputation because it happens. There is a brighter side as well and I want to help bring that out.”

Her employees are hired for a variety of services, such as high school reunions or dinner dates. Last October, one of her women was a golf caddie for a visiting businessman. Pfauth eventually wants to expand into football and corporate parties.

While working as an escort and dancer, Pfauth gained experience that is valuable when screening possible clients. She ensures reliable protection and a sense of security during appointments, adding that she would not hesitate to involve the police if she felt one of her employees was in danger. Pfauth understands when someone is calling for valid reasons or simply looking for sex.

“I can tell right away what they are all about because they will tell me,” she says, referring to a man who called her a bitch and made comments about lingerie. “People are pretty honest. I don’t want people to think that I am sending out a prostitute, someone to have sex with.”

For tax purposes, Pfauth’s employees are considered independent contractors who are required to sign a contract stating they will not have sex with clients. Because of the measures she takes to protect herself, her business and employees, Pfauth is not legally considered a “pimp” – a felony charge with penalties of up to 12 years in jail and $750,000. The severity of the consequences is one reason why Jill stays away from escort services and prefers to work independently.

Along with pimping, prostitution becomes a felony when it involves minors or knowledge of HIV infection. It is often at the felony level when prostitution attracts the immediate attention of authorities. Neither Cox nor Reed can remember such a case in Fort Collins.

The most recent bust of an organized prostitution ring in Fort Collins was in 2003. The Larimer County Sheriff’s Department raided a massage parlor on Link Lane, just north of Mulberry Street across from the gentlemen’s club, A Hunt Club. The business, Choice Tan, is one of two massage parlors in Fort Collins listed on the Web site eroticmp.com, advertised as “your No. 1 source for erotic massage and massage parlor reviews.” Choice Tan is currently open under the same name, a trend Cox calls “typical.”

“Once it’s raided, they will sell it to someone else and the person who got busted will move someplace else,” Cox says. He remembers the bust as being “low-key.”

“The Korean massage parlors are everywhere,” he adds. “It’s a huge business for them.”

Based on information Cox has gathered from talking to people involved, the women who work at many of the Korean-run businesses are illegal immigrants trying to pay off what he calls “shipping costs.” Once these costs are offset, they are typically free to go, making their situation slightly different than other human trafficking cases.

“Prostitution is the easiest and fastest way to pay off debt,” Cox says. “A lot of these women were doing it for a whole lot less back in Korea.”

Because of confidentiality, both Reed and Cox were unable to give exact details about how they approach and investigate organized prostitution. Reed says if there were any ongoing investigations, he wouldn’t be able to release information about the businesses or people involved.

However, based on past cases, Cox explains that most busts occur when a tip is received from surrounding businesses or concerned residents.

“If we have a complaint, we will stop the John on his way out and talk with them,” Cox says. “Most of them will admit to it.”

Independent escorts – what Cox calls the “lone” prostitute – work on their own and range from high-end providers with personal Web sites, such as Jill, to young women who advertise in online classifieds.

“Look on Craigslist or backpage.com and you tell me,” says Reed, in regards to online prostitution. He has seen the sites and is aware of the people on them, but as with other illicit sex activity in Fort Collins, they are not proactively followed.

“Especially in Northern Colorado and Wyoming, the men are looking for real women with real bodies,” Jill says. “They aren’t going for the fly-by-night, Craigslist-type girls.”

The Other Board is a Web site with reviews of prostitutes in Colorado and Texas. A disclaimer on the opening page states it is “solely for information and amusement” and is not related to prostitution. Other sites, including both Jill’s and Pfauth’s, have a similar disclaimer. On the front page of her site, Jill writes, “If money is exchanged then it is for time only. Time together may include services such as erotic dancing, modeling or a body rub.”

The legal validity of these claims, however, is questionable.

“If they’re trading sexual favors for money, that’s a criminal offense,” Reed says. “No matter what they’re putting in their ads, it’s still illegal.”

Jill says the disclaimer is primarily used to prevent people who do not belong on her site from unknowingly accessing the content.

“I know it wouldn’t help in a legal situation,” she says.

To disguise their activities further, the online prostitution business has its own veiled lingo, similar to other digital media. In message boards, John’s refer to themselves as enthusiasts or hobbyists and post open discussions with titles like: “Top 10 Hobbyist Pet Peeves” and “ASP v. Girlfriend – Pros and Cons.”

The Other Board also has a glossary of short-hand terms, like text language, to describe the services each prostitute provides: “Greek” is anal sex, “GFE” stands for girlfriend experience, “French” refers to oral sex. Although the language is carefully disguised and intentionally left ambiguous, the photos are typically graphic.

“When a young lady is posting pictures with their private parts exposed and saying they will charge $100 for a half hour of their services, a reasonable person would jump to the conclusion that it is prostitution,” Reed says.

Another advantage of the Internet is that it acts as an anonymous yet effective way to screen clients. Safety and discretion are often one in the same. Many prostitutes require clients to register with the Web site Preferred 411 before they will agree to a session. The site hosts profiles for clients and “legitimate providers.” Clients are required to purchase memberships for $69 a year. To confirm their identity, they must provide proof of employment; information the site operators say is immediately destroyed after confirmation. In exchange, they receive a discreet user name, full access to provider information and the ability to contact them directly through the site.

On Preferred 411, Jill has a list of over 17 activities she enjoys “in private,” all listed as discrete acronyms, followed by a disclaimer that reads, “For which no money is exchanged.”  Neither her profile nor Web site list options for payment. Rather, there are suggested donations for her services, ranging from $100 for fifteen minutes to $200 for a full hour.

The monetary benefits of prostitution are not easy to pin down. While prostitution can be profitable, the women who become successful and remain largely off the radar are not after cash.

“Never take a client because you are desperate or need money,” Jill says. “As with any profession, greed is the enemy.”

Pfauth, who started her business with the goal of making money, says her unique approach has been slow to evolve and catch on.

“Things aren’t looking good right now, but that’s because I’m not taking every call,” she says. “In time, at some point, it will be very lucrative. I’m taking baby steps.”

Reed is unsure of any noticeable economic impact brought about by prostitution and could not comment on how the public views the crime.

“I don’t have an opinion one way or the other,” he says.

Prostitution does remain largely unseen and, to an extent, controlled. The last case Cox can specifically remember of a John being charged for soliciting sex was in 2004. Because the overwhelming majority of people find what she does to be unthinkable, Jill has learned to adapt to Northern Colorado, like camouflage.

“I’m just a regular 40-something-year-old woman who wouldn’t stand out other than my large, all-American chest,” she laughs. Despite never being arrested or charged with prostitution, Jill is aware of the legal penalties for all aspects of the crime. Because she has been around longer than anyone else she is aware of, Jill is sure the police have some idea of whom she is. Being vocal about her life as a prostitute could damage the careful balance between what she enjoys and what is accepted.

“There is a reason and order that flows quite nicely without disruption,” Jill says. “Until I’m ready to get out of it, which I’m not, I think I need to remain not so vocal or proud about sharing my views. I’m not sure the human psyche is prepared for it.”

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

When I was 17 years old, I made my first trip to a sex shop in the guise of a date. I was a senior attending high school in north Denver, bored, with a girl and I thought I knew enough about sex to handle a glorified porn shop, aptly named Fascinations.

I was prepared for the costumes, swings, lubricants and enormous selection of pornography. What I found shocking, as my date went off to giggle at the graphic film covers, were the sex toys, spread across four floor-to-ceiling shelves. Looking at them, I felt as if I were trespassing. She was entertained; I was disturbed.

I asked if she had ever considered trying a vibrator.  She looked at me, feigning laughter but hiding embarrassment, and told me she never would. “Why?” I asked. She couldn’t answer, but again said she just wouldn’t. As a male, I was reassured. Confident. Validated.

That moment still stands out to me. Why was I so taken aback by the array of female sex toys? Why did I care if my friend used a synthetic device made for her pleasure? And why did her answer comfort me?

It would be easy to write off my unease as simply a reaction to a temporary, albeit very real, threat to my masculinity. The Ron Jeremy Dildo – made from a cast of the adult film star’s penis – offered the size, motion, feel and availability that I realistically could not.

But the real issue, one that is much more troubling because it seems so ingrained in our oversexed culture, is the continued disparity between males and females when it comes to what we do in private. A 2000 study published in the Journal of Social Issues found that young women tend to learn about their sexuality from men; whereas, men learn independently. It would seem that a woman could only enjoy sex if she first learned how to please a man. You need to look no further than the February cover of Cosmopolitan magazine for proof: a headline reads, “The hour men crave sex most.”

Admittedly, I am no expert on feminism or gender theory, but something about my teenage experience seemed so fundamentally biased, so wrong, that I will try to connect the dots. People are, after all, inherently curious about sex. Jake Bonse, a manager at the Adult Book Ranch, estimates about 50 college-aged adults visit the sex shop every day.

However, a stigma still surrounds masturbation. It is taboo – unspoken, dirty, guilt-ridden and pathetic. I believe openness about self-pleasure could be one path to greater gender equality.

Masturbation is the source of much confusion and misunderstanding. A 2007 study published in the Journal of Sex and Marital Therapy found 38 percent of women and 61 percent of men in the United States masturbate, with the largest percentage being under age 30.  In the study, researchers at the University of Chicago analyzed data from a 1992 health survey and made some interesting conclusions about who masturbates and why. One common view they investigated is based on the belief that masturbation is used to compensate for a lack of sex – in other words, it’s only for singles.

Yet both women and men who were either in relationships or had satisfying sex masturbated, not to make up for any shortcomings, but as a completely separate activity.

If people are doing it, then what makes masturbation a forbidden subject? Is it a lack of education? When the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization released a document on sexuality education last September, some U.S. news outlets blasted it as promoting masturbation to 8-year-olds.  The report suggested that elementary schools adjust their curriculum to debunk myths about masturbation, such as it causes physical and mental harm. Religious values could also play a part, as many Christian groups teach that masturbation is a sin.

For our generation, this thinking seems extremely old-fashioned and conservative. In a bizarre, critically acclaimed play that opened in early 2009, female masturbation and the confusion surrounding it plays a central role. Titled “In the Next Room (or the Vibrator Play)” and based on historic fact, it follows 19^th-century New Yorkers as they experiment with primitive vibrators to cure hysteria. The irony is that they completely overlook the sensual side effects.  In a New York Times article by Patricia Cohen, she interviewed the playwright, Sarah Ruhl, who said the play addresses the contemporary issue of male dominance.

“The point is how much control the mostly male medical establishment exercised over women, and the degree of ignorance women [and men] frequently had about their own bodies,” Cohen said. From Victorian era New York to the 21^st century, the message is clear: Female pleasure is misunderstood by not only men, but also by women.

As with many things, the media are both a reflection and purveyor of social attitudes. Unfortunately, in the pages of a magazine or over the airwaves, “sexperts” often move from reliable medical professionals to entertainers, tarnishing their credibility. It’s the Dr. Phil effect. Films and TV shows – from the movie “It’s Complicated” to the TV drama “Desperate Housewives” – show modern women as aggressive, dominating and promiscuous.

In essence, to be a woman as the media shows, you must be more masculine in your sexual appetites. This apparent empowerment rings false, because as with most depictions of women, these drives are geared toward men and, however fleeting, relationships.  Women should be allowed to enjoy and celebrate sexuality on their own terms – which includes masturbation.

In the end, then, do we associate female masturbation with trespassing? A 2009 study published in the Journal of Sex Research gives some of the most frightening insight into the question. Researchers in Britain interviewed high school students, aged 16 to 18, to discover what role masturbation plays early in a woman’s life.

“In relation to comfort with her own body, [a student] spoke in terms of her body, especially her genital area, being almost the property of boys – a place that only they could touch,” the authors of the study said about one of the interviews. Other students expressed disinterest in their own bodies, as well as confusion about how to handle sexual urges without a man: “I just felt silly … as if I wasn’t doing something right,” one student said.

I’m not saying we should all spend our time shut away in the bedroom, alone, with vibrator or porn in hand. Maybe a little masturbation – and the willingness to accept it as something we do for ourselves – is a good thing. For women, such liberation could be a step away from the stale, dated dogma that says pleasure is something to be ashamed of unless it involves a man.  Let’s hope.

Had enough time to think?  The correct answer (of course) is Fort Collins, local music and rock ‘n’ roll.

If those weren’t the exact words you had in mind, you’ve come to the right place.  Welcome to The Playlist, a guide to all things involving local music in and around Ft. Collins.  Whether you’ve been a part of the scene for a long time or are interested in a little something homegrown to liven up your iPod, it’s never too late to get educated on the sounds of your own backyard.

Ft. Collins is arguably the center of the Northern Colorado music scene.  The Aggie Theatre in Old Town regularly lends its stage to acts such as Social Distortion and Tech Nine.  Tour buses for Foreigner and Willy Nelson can often be spotted in the parking lot of the Budweiser Events Center just down the road in Loveland.

Part of what makes Ft. Collins such an eclectic mix of auditory delights is the influence of the student body at CSU.  Campus has played host to a wide variety of big name acts, from Colorado heavyweights The Fray in 2006 to Lupe Fiasco in 2008.

Names such as these may hog all the space on marquee boards and fill the coveted Saturday evening slots at venues, but they all had to start somewhere.  At one point, even the biggest names were local.

Case in point: In 2005, Tickle Me Pink formed in Ft. Collins.  According to their official MySpace page, the band rose quickly, releasing two EP’s on their own before catching the attention of Wind-Up Records in 2008.  Their first full-length release, “Madeline,” was greeted by a sellout crowd at the Aggie and receives regular airplay on the radio station Channel 93.3.  Still in their early 20’s, their MySpace biography bills them as “one of the biggest bands in Colorado.”

But local music is not only about the prospect of eventual nationwide name recognition, tour buses and groupies.  It is about experimentation, fun and boundless energy.  But most of all, it is about music made by music lovers, for music lovers.

The possibility of finding something that fits your own unique tastes is endless.  Enjoy indie rock with a healthy dose of violin?  Check out the three-piece Stella Luce.  More inclined towards funky bluegrass?  The five person outfit Good Gravy! might be right up your ally.  In the mood for ukulele-playing singer/songwriters with a penchant for creating YouTube video’s?  There might only be one, but you’ll find her in Danielle Ate the Sandwich.  Looking for a bit of good old fashioned hard rock to get you in the mood before a Friday night binge?  The whiskey-loving five-piece Give ‘Er Hell will put some fire in your veins.

No matter what your cup of tea, Ft. Collins is home to a rich underground of musicians just waiting to have their music heard.  The Playlist will supply you with all you need to become a connoisseur of the Ft. Collins local music scene.  You’ll find info on venues, artist interviews, concert reviews and much, much more.

However, if you just can’t wait to delve into the scene, an excellent resource is the Fort Collins Musicians Association Web site.  You’ll find an extensive list of bands arranged by genre with links to their personal Web sites.  Dig around, get your hands dirty, and you’re bound to find something you like.

The incredible thing about becoming involved with any local movement is the people.  MySpace is a good place to get a glimpse of what exactly you’re looking for, but if you do discover a band you like, go and check them out.  Say hi after the show and let them know you appreciate what it is they do.  Buy (never steal) their album.  But most of all, take the opportunity to connect with a vibrant community that represents the musical tastes of our city.

a personal challenge…

Have you ever scrolled through your iPod, trying to find that same old Rolling Stones album you’ve listened to a hundred times, and just happened to stop on the vintage B-side you never knew you had? Well, I haven’t, but I think I’d like to.

It’s easy for music to get lost once it’s digitized. Maybe it’s because good old analog devices can’t fit in my pocket. Maybe it’s because people can afford to steal more Mp3’s than physical CD’s. Maybe I really don’t care about all 12 tracks on Kesha’s new CD, but downloading it was the only way to get the single.

Whatever the reason, files on a computer don’t stick out the way a pile of CD’S and records does. I guess you could call me a musical democratist: all music deserves to be listened to, even the lowest, oldest digital dregs.

With this in mind, I’ve set a challenge for myself. I’ll be keeping a personal “musiclogue” (like a travelogue for music) through blogspot. If you’re interested in hearing my game plan, want to join with me on your own sonic journey, or just want to discover the funky stuff I find in the nearly 11 days of music I have on my iPod, check my blog. It will be updated every week, and I promise it won’t disappoint.

Tucked in the southern corner of the building, away from the main stage and largely unknown to the CSU population, is a world-renowned research facility that is exploring the nature of music as medicine.

The Center for Biomedical Research in Music brings art and science together to treat brain disorders.  The center has used music to treat everything from Parkinson’s disease to traumatic injuries, such as those caused by strokes and car accidents.  The center also conducts research to better understand how music is processed by and influences the brain.

“When you listen to music, your brain is on fire tracking all the elements,” says Dr. Michael Thaut, director of the CBRM and a professor of music and neuroscience at CSU.

The center, which was founded in 1994, has become an international leader in neurologic music therapy research and treatment.  The center is one of only a handful of such institutions around the world, and the only one that is dedicated to clinical research.

“[It is] one of the state-of-the-art therapies being used around the world,” Thaut says.  He has written the primary textbook on neurologic music therapy, “Music, Rhythm and the Brain,” and he and his colleagues have spoken at conferences from Hong Kong to Oslo.

For people who suffer from brain injuries and disorders, the power of music comes from its structure and timing.  Whether a song is pleasing, popular or a timeless classic doesn’t matter.  Even someone who has never touched an instrument can benefit from treatment because music appeals to our need for synchronization, Thaut says.  The brain wants to work in tune with the rest of the body and the outside world.

“We want to follow the beats and the rhythm,” Thaut says.  It’s something that can be seen when people unconsciously tap their foot to a song.  “Musical rhythm is a time keeper, like a big clock.”

The connection between our neurological system and auditory system – how our brain processes what we hear – is very strong.  This connection can be seen in spoken language.  Our brains process different tones and combinations of sound simultaneously when we speak.  We understand words because we have learned what those different combinations mean.

“We use music as a sensory language,” Thaut says.  Music has the power to excite a huge amount of the brain.  Areas of the brain that remain dormant during normal speech are triggered when a person sings, Thaut says.

A study published in 2003 in the journal The Neurosciences and Music found that rhythmic body movement, such as tapping along with a beat, activates parts of the brain and pathways that aren’t stimulated by physical movement alone.  Even when no melody is present, the act of maintaining rhythm is enough to excite multiple areas of the brain.

For Thaut and other researchers, the findings proved that music could be used along with traditional exercise, such as walking, to make rehabilitation more effective.  It’s as simple as putting on a pair of headphones.  For people who no longer have control over certain muscles, prescribed music is a way to engage the parts of the brain that are responsible for movement but no longer work properly.

“The brain is very plastic and has elasticity,” Thaut says.  “Through learning and changing, we can change the brain.”

An area of study that proves the benefits of music therapy is Parkinson’s disease.  One problem for people with the disease, which often develops after age 65, is that they walk slowly and have trouble with balance.  Parkinson’s affects the production of dopamine, a chemical that is important for smooth movement, according to the National Parkinson Foundation Web site.

By using music to focus their attention on ordered and steady movements, patients can train themselves to regain control of their body.  The speed and beat of the music they listen to is carefully selected by a therapist to match a comfortable walking pace.  On average, improvements in stability and control can be seen after two to three weeks.

Because this particular therapy combines music and exercise, it is a very active treatment that requires concentration and practice, Thaut says.  Just as an athlete or musician has to practice on a daily basis to get better, patients who are finished with therapy sessions need to continue working and rehabilitating on their own.  If not, they could quickly lose the ground they gained.

The center is primarily affiliated with the Department of Music, Theater and Dance, but it also works closely with three other campus-based science programs and Poudre Valley Hospital.  Patients from around the world consult the center for treatment, but the volunteers for the clinical studies typically reside in northern Colorado.

CSU offer three degrees in music therapy, from bachelors to Ph.D.  Students in the program are interested in science and psychology, according to Thaut, but they are musicians first and specialize in a particular instrument.  They receive the same level of training as a music performance major.

Although it is important for students in the program and professionals to be highly skilled, for treatment to be effective, diversity in styles – between Bach and Mozart – makes no difference.  Any connection or emotional response a patient may have to music is “just a side effect,” Thaut says.

“Music therapy is not interpreting music based on how it makes you feel,” says Thaut, who was a professional violinist before he began work at the CBRM.  “That’s not rehabilitation; that’s appreciation.”

Photo by Brandon Iwamoto

For many people, music is an art form. From Beethoven on a grand piano to Hendrix and his Fender Strat, musicians are revered for their skill and the mastery of their instruments.

But what about the people who create those instruments?

In a small workshop on the eastern edge of Fort Collins, covered in sawdust and surrounded by exotic woods, Michael Bashkin is creating art.

He is the owner of Bashkin Guitars and a full-time luthier. Luthiers are expert craftsman, like carpenters, who specialize in creating and repairing stringed instruments, according to the Guild of American Luthiers Web site.

Since opening his shop in 1998, Bashkin has worked to bring 41 years of life into his craft, building custom acoustic guitars for enthusiasts around the world.

“When you get into the high-end, handmade market, you have to be firing on all cylinders,” Bashkin says. Lutherie is a careful combination of art and science, something that is a constant challenge, he adds.

“I had no money and no experience,” says Bashkin of his humble beginnings. He moved to Fort Collins 15 years ago, working as a research associate in the Natural Resource Ecology Laboratory at Colorado State University while attending graduate school for forestry.

It was during this time that he took an interest in lutherie and began an unpaid repair apprenticeship at the former Fort Collins shop, Osprey Guitars. Bashkin credits his time there as an invaluable learning process.

“One of the funny things about guitar making is it’s a craft spent a lifetime learning,” Bashkin says. He built his first guitar from a kit in 1994, using tools he borrowed from Osprey. “Work I’ve done in the past is a snapshot of where I was at the time.”

Bashkin has now created nearly 100 guitars, most of which are commissioned by specific buyers. He also sends a select number to dealers in the United States, Japan, Italy and England. Though he still plays on occasion, he does not own one of his own guitars.

“Within eight bars of playing [a Bashkin guitar], I said, ‘That’s it, this is what I’m looking for,’” says Larry Jacobsen in a phone interview, who is a pastor from Cheyenne, Wyo., and the owner of a Bashkin guitar for four years. “It surpassed everything I hoped.”

Bashkin has no formal artistic training, but his guitars reflect his rich history. After earning an undergraduate degree in forestry from the University of Montana, he worked an eclectic mix of jobs. Among other things, he spent time in Belize teaching tropical forestry and was a photography assistant in New York City.
These two experiences had an enormous impact on his approach to guitar building. Bashkin prefers to use tropical hardwoods for the sides and backs of his guitars. One of his models, the African Blackwood 12 fret, is a nod to his appreciation of black and white photography.

“In a guitar, you’re balancing aesthetics, protection and acoustics,” says Bashkin of the process. He builds guitars in batches of two to six at a time, working closely with each client to make sure the instrument fits their specific needs. Each guitar takes between 80 and 100 hours to complete, spread over a period of about six months. Bashkin ensures every component is ideal, down to necks tailored to perfectly fit a client’s hand.

“The craftsmanship is outstanding and the sound is outstanding,” says Mike Joyce in a phone interview. Joyce owns San Diego-based Luthiers Collection, one of two shops in the nation certified to distribute Bashkin Guitars. “He does some little things in aesthetics and construction that sets himself apart from other craftsmen.”

The construction of a guitar involves thousands of individual steps, a process Bashkin describes as “a terrible model of efficiency.” Despite a base price of $5,500 and a backlog of nearly two years, Bashkin is not driven by profit. According to him, he builds because of a deep passion and interest in his craft.

Photo by Brandon Iwamoto

In his approach to guitar making, Bashkin is meticulous and precise. Before making any cuts, he draws a full-size picture of the guitar and hangs it on the wall in his workshop. This part of the process is vital: if one curve or shape is off, the entire guitar suffers.

“If it’s not good on that very basic, silhouette level, the guitar won’t work aesthetically,” Bashkin says. He describes this blueprint stage as a very instinctual process. Bashkin may refine a drawing 20 times before he is satisfied.

Jacobsen notes that Bashkin takes longer than some other hand-builders, but it is because he simply won’t tolerate any flaws. “It’s almost like a balloon. If you put your finger in one spot, it changes everything else,” Bashkin says.

After he has a perfect blueprint, Bashkin begins the building process. Unlike some luthiers, he does not rely on intricate inlays and fancy flourishes to make his guitars stand out. Instead, he focuses on one of the most vital components of any guitar – the wood itself.

“I try and place an emphasis on celebrating the beauty of the wood in my guitars and not override it with something else,” Bashkin says.

Bashkin’s background in forestry plays a large role in how he selects the wood for his guitars. Each piece is unique, from Brazilian rosewood to Italian spruce, selected for both acoustic brilliance and visual appeal.

“By using different woods he can vary the tone all over the spectrum,” Jacobsen says.

Bashkin values Jacobsen’s knowledge of the “subtleties and intricacies of a guitar,” and the two have developed a friendship based on their appreciation of each other’s talents.

“He’ll have a batch of guitars and turn me loose playing them,” Jacobsen says. He estimates that he has played nearly 35 guitars built by Bashkin, and finds that each one is better than the last.

“I don’t take any responsibility for that [the wood grain],” Bashkin says. “That is the tree. I just try and put it together in a pleasing way.”

However beautiful his guitars are, they are primarily musical instruments. Bashkin looks forward to a guitar leaving his shop almost as much as building it.

Photo by Brandon Iwamoto

“I can build a race car, but I can’t build a race car driver,” says Bashkin of the thrill he gets knowing his instrument is in the hands of a musician, though he admits some of his clients “played some guitar in college,” and are not always experts. Many are looking for the “emotional and spiritual connection” inherent to custom guitars and music itself, Bashkin says. This level of personal attention keeps Bashkin in business.

“I have never met a hand-maker that didn’t want his next guitar to be the best guitar he ever built,” Jacobsen says. It is this philosophy that separates luthiers from mass-production retailers.

“I find that when you take the constraints off a builder and let them be creative, that’s when they really flourish,” Joyce says.

“The difference between the factory market and the custom market is intention,” Bashkin says. He notes that it is often safer for a factory to “overbuild” a guitar by using inferior materials, resulting in an unpredictable product. Hand-builders take into account the variability of their materials in order to make every guitar exceptional, he says.

“I like to think the end product is better because of the process,” Bashkin says. “It can have a meaning beyond its basic material. It can be a work of art.”

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

the glockenspiel dilemma

On a windy Tuesday night in September, Dave Maddocks is pacing around his recording studio, trying to find the best place for a glockenspiel. He sets the small xylophone-like instrument in a dim corner and strikes one of its metal keys with a hard mallet.

“We’ve never done dead glock before,” says Maddocks, referring to the sharp, subdued tone. The walls around him are covered in poster paint, old mattress pads and hand-written song lists. A string of giant Santa Claus figure lights lines the door between the control room and the studio.

“It’s going to sound so good,” says Jon Alonzo, Maddocks’ bandmate. Wires, microphones and musical instruments share the recording space with hammers, beer bottles and broken action figures.

The Maddocks Family Barn, as Maddocks affectionately refers to his studio, is exactly what its name implies. In 2004, Maddocks converted half of his parents’ large garage into a studio with the help of his brother-in-law, Todd Lyon.

Maddocks, 22, a senior accounting major at the University of Northern Colorado, is not alone when it comes to this sort of do-it-yourself recording. Fort Collins and northern Colorado are home to an eclectic collection of studios run by self-taught sound engineers who dedicate their garages, basements and any spare change to their love of music.

“Pretty much everything is from craigslist and eBay,” Maddocks says. “Both the studio and myself are growing with each project.”

garages, barns and golden ferraris

DIY recording is an underground answer to the slick, commercialized sounds common on the radio and in record stores. Studios vary based on the engineer’s personal musical tastes, background and recording capabilities.

“I’m from the Rick Rubin school of recording and like to keep things simple,” Jason Larson says. “It’s a little bit more honest.”

For four years, Larson, 33, has used his Fort Collins garage as the home base for Pigpen Studios. The name is more a homage to his band, The Piggies, than an accurate physical description. The studio is a reflection of his recording style: clean and polished, but not without personality. An upright piano covered in beer bottles and band stickers is at home against the white vocal booth.

“It’s probably the nicest garage recording set-up I’ve ever seen,” says Alana Rolfe of Larson’s studio. Rolfe, a CSU alumna and member of the Fort Collins trio Stella Luce, has recorded with both Larson and Maddocks.

Many involved in the underground recording scene are self-taught. Maddocks learned from brother-in-law Lyon, who mixes for the Fort Collins-based Dead Pigeon Studios.

“I think he’s definitely getting better if you compare it [Stella Luce’s album “Zugenruhe”] to albums he did last year,” says Rolfe about Maddocks.

Larson started doing live sound for concerts at the age of 16 and has no formal training, but his talent caught the attention of some of the music industry’s best, and for three years, Larson traveled with the hip-hop group N.E.R.D. as a stage manager. He likes to joke that his studio was “funded by Pharrell Williams.”

Though Larson no longer tours with the group, it sparked his interest in recording. He now splits his time between engineering sound for live events and recording at his studio.

“I’m just trying to eat,” Larson says. “I’m not trying to buy a golden Ferrari.”

Unlike Larson, who engineers sound full-time, Maddocks has no intention of turning his studio into a moneymaking venture. Aside from recording his own band, indie-rockers Paean, all his profits go back into the studio.

the process

Although there is a wide variety of equipment available to DIY engineers, Maddocks uses a PC and the program Cubase, while Larson prefers a Mac and ProTools, the recording process is roughly very similar.

These programs allow control over sound capture, tracking or the recording of each track, mixing the tracks together and mastering. For Larson, the pre-production is what he enjoys most about working with bands.

Photo by Garrett Mynatt

“I enjoy taking a melody or rough idea and growing on it,” Larson says. His recording and co-producing credits include the first album from Fort Collins-based Lindsey O’Brien Band.

“He’s very valuable to work with as far as his knowledge of music and his songwriting abilities,” says Lindsey O’Brien, a CSU alumna and vocalist for her self-titled band. “He’s a wizard.”

Maddocks works almost exclusively with local bands, including Stella Luce, who finished recording their first full-length album in May 2009.

“It was fun to experiment and to have the freedom to experiment,” Rolfe says.

Experimentation is a trademark of Maddocks’ style. The Paean song, “When I was Five Years Old,” contains 55 audio tracks, including a 15-second harmony that took nearly three hours to record. Such a session would typically cost $200 in a professional studio, Maddocks estimates. In comparison, he typically charges $10 per band member, per song.

Larson charges a more traditional hourly rate, at $35, but is always willing to adjust.

“This place is a charity right now,” Larson jokes.

For local bands on a budget, the difference in rates rarely affects the end product. Rolfe has had time in several studios with previous bands and enjoyed working with Maddocks because of his laid-back style.

“The equipment might not be as nice, but overall the experience was the same,” Rolfe says.

the modern (garage) band

The advent of digital technology has made recording more accessible, efficient and hassle-free. Both Maddocks and Larson use digital equipment because it is relatively cheap. However, Larson is wary of programs such as the Mac application GarageBand.

“Truly original music is going to hold a lot more clout than throwing a loop together on GarageBand,” says Larson, though he admits it’s a good starting point for beginners.

O’Brien believes a basic knowledge of recording programs can be a valuable tool. Her band often records practices to catch things that need to be changed and polished before heading into the studio.

The one point all sound engineers stress is that quality recording comes from an understanding of music. In that way, they are not much different from the local bands they record.

“It’s important to be a musician first and have an appreciation for music and the different emotional responses to it,” Maddocks says. “I record music because I love music.”