Summit Up 9-29-09 |

Summit Up 9-29-09

by Jethro Tull

You may not notice this before, but on the cover of Jethro Tull's classic album "Aqualung," the wretched dude is standing in front of a handbill advertising a ski vacation. What's the deal with that?

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column wondering whether Ian Anderson, the flute-playing front man for Jethro Tull, had a thing for skiing. We say this because it recently came to our attention that the cover art of Tull’s classic 1971 “Aqualung” album makes no bones about suggesting that people consider a ski trip for their Christmas holidays.

We’re not kidding and we have the photo to prove it, hopefully displayed somewhere on this page. So what gives with Jethro Tull and snow sports? After we noticed this little blurb on the album cover, we quickly cruised over to YouTube and watched an old video of the band performing “Aqualung” in concert, and we must say that, while the guys were styling in their striped pants and fringed leather vests, they didn’t exactly come across as looking like they’d be found anywhere near a chairlift – but who knows, we could be totally wrong. If anything, we’d say that Ian and the crew would be into snowboarding, except that wasn’t really happening back in that era.

Hmmm, maybe it’s just part of the album’s theme of social commentary about the disconnect between affluence and abject poverty, often to be found on the same street in most major cities of the world, or maybe the artist who did the cover was a skier. Then again, maybe not. Maybe it’s just one of those totally random cosmic coincidences. In either case, we couldn’t agree more with the sentiment.

So, yo! Ian, if you’re around and you read this, drop us a line and let us know what that’s all about. And since we probably won’t be hearing from Ian anytime soon, we’d like to invite our readers to send in their own theories of why this blurb was included as part of the Aqualung cover. Just write to Any other references to skiing out there in the world of rock? We know Dan Fogelberg (RIP) was a powder hound who owned a place near Wolf Creek, but Summit Up wants to know, who is the skiing-est rock star?

By the way, if you’re ever in the mood to browse old album covers, there’s no better place than Affordable Music in Dillon, where owner Gary Koenig has bins full of classics. That’s where out staffer happened upon the Jethro Tull album. Ahhh, if we only had a turntable … Which reminds us, we have a sort of semi Scum Alert from Gary, who told one of our staffers a story that would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Seems that somebody really wanted a sarong-type wall hanging with Bob Marley’s visage on it, and decided to roll it up and stuff it down their pants in a feeble attempt to heist the goods from the music emporium. Gary said he noticed this and confronted the would-be shoplifter, who dropped the merchandise and then tried to sprint out of the shop. After a short chase around the record racks, the thief apparently hurdled over a couch and out the door.

Recommended Stories For You

That’s just lame, people. Stealing = bad, and trying to steal a Bob Marley hanging from a small local business is the even badder. Get a grip, or better yet, get a job so you can afford to buy the things you want/need. On the Karmic scale, this is deserving of the proverbial 50 lashes with a wet noodle, and them some. May the ghost of Bob Marley haunt all your dreams.


Finally today we have a snippet of bad poetry from William McGonagall who, according to this one random website we found, is the worst poet ever. Here goes:

The Tay Bridge Disaster

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!

Alas! I am very sorry to say

That ninety lives have been taken away

On the last Sabbath day of 1879,

Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

‘Twas about seven o’clock at night,

And the wind it blew with all its might,

And the rain came pouring down,

And the dark clouds seemed to frown,

And the Demon of the air seem’d to say —

“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”

When the train left Edinburgh

The passengers’ hearts were light and felt no sorrow,

But Boreas blew a terrific gale,

Which made their hearts for to quail,

And many of the passengers with fear did say —

“I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay.”

But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,

Boreas he did loud and angry bray,

And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay

On the last Sabbath day of 1879,

Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

Hmmm … yep, sounds pretty bad! Read the rest of this and more awful poetry online at You’ll be sorry you did!