Archive for October, 2007

Rocktober Fade

Guess what? Red Sox still smell. And I still don’t like them. Guess what? I probably won’t for the rest of my life.

Your Colorado Rockies were swept. Already I’m reading articles on Yahoo Sports about how The Rockies were in over their heads and how that magical defense we had vanished in the middle of the night and how much of a failure our team is and how The Red Sox era is underway and blah blah blah.

Give me a break. It was a dream for us to get as far as we did. Nobody ever expected this team to even make it into the World Series. And when we did, nobody believed we had a chance. “The Rockies? Who the heck are they? Some farm team?” was most of what I would hear. The NLCS broadcasts on TBS were enough evidence that nobody really cared for us anyway. Guess what?

We proved everyone wrong. Your Colorado Rockies swept teams they were never expected to in the regular season and the post season. This team was and still is a winning team. We’ve put some new marks in record books and people are actually having to pay attention to us now that we’ve kicked open that prized door to the big league’s playhouse.

They’re saying in these articles that Boston is spoiled with the Patriots and now the Red Sox. They’re saying this team is unstoppable. They’re downplaying your Rockies and the players. It appears once the shine was off the Cinderella Men most everybody in baseball seems to have thrown your Rockies under the bus.

We may have been swept at home. We may have not won the World Series. But we made it. We fought for it. We lived for it. This city supported this team in as many ways as possible. Our players threw everything they had into play along with the kitchen sink. Were they better than the Sox? I personally believe they are a better team in every facet. I’ll be shouted down by baseball experts and people who say I’m delusional. The stats will have me in the wrong.

But I still believe in the Home Team. If they don’t win it’s a shame. But guess what? There’s always next year! Another season of baseball at Coors Field will be filled with fresh ideas, old faces and the crack of the baseball.

This month we got to play in The World Series. That’ll do for now. Until next year…


A bush in Denver, but don’t speak to or look at her

I like book signings, I always have. I’m not one of those autograph whores that shows up with some sort of wheeled contraption full of the same 4 books, to be put up on ebay. One of my most prized signed books is a mass market paperback, that I’ve read a good half dozen times.

I was cruising that Tattered Cover website tonight to see who’s coming to town and noticed that Jenna Bush was coming for a signing. Having less than zero interest in her or her book, I still took a look since her visit warranted it’s own link on the side bar, not in with the other signings at area stores.

I didn’t even try to attend Barack Obama’s signing because he was only signing books you bought there, and you had to be there something like 4 hours early, oh hell no :) So I wasn’t too surprised that Jenna’s page was a litany of rules and guidelines.

Ms. Bush will make a presentation and sign copies of “Ana’s Story.” She will not answer questions.
She will sign up to three copies per ticketed guest of “Ana’s Story,” but will not personalize. She will not sign anything other than copies of “Ana’s Story.”
Photographs will be permitted from the seating area. You will not be able to take photos once you approach the signing table. Ms. Bush will not pose for photos with customers.

So I could pay (price not mentioned on the page) for tickets, I buy my copy of the book, and I can’t take a photo, she won’t personalize the autograph, I’m guessing she won’t speak to me, and I have to come naked just about, in order to make it past security.

Denver Weekend

We had our first snow last weekend and it was pretty good drop on the grass. No serious road problems, but it was nice driving down from Longmont and seeing as the snow on the ground becoming more dense as the road sped by as I traveled. This weekend the weather forecast looks pretty smooth.

I’ve heard that this winter is going to be milder than the last and I believe everyone in Denver and the Metro Area is doing everything in their power, prayers, wishes, hopes and dreams to have that rumor become a very real reality. I would be content with a mild winter since it lasts until at least April anyway. Yet there is a part of me that yearns for the blizzards, the blowing snow and the icy roads.

It’s my rebel spirit that refuses to be put down. I secretly want to be challenged in my rush hour drive. Yearning for the adventure of slipping and sliding over the pavement? Probably need to get myself to therapy or something. What do you think about the coming Winter? Mild? Mannered? Or will we feel like the red headed stepchild when all is said and done?

And are we sad we won’t see spring for what feels like an eternity?

Off topic but on topic: GO ROCKIES! red sox smell. :)

The DNC ’08

The Democratic National Convention is coming to Denver in a little under a year or so. Are you pumped? Are you excited? Are you ready for the anarchists? They’re coming!

I was at my friendly neighborhood Chipotle earlier this evening and found this article to be both fascinating and a wee bit disturbing. You see, throughout the entire article I couldn’t figure out if these guys were peaceful or not. I got the sense they wanted to be but that if “certain things” happened or didn’t happen the fit throwing would start. There’s some drama (I surmise from the article) about who will join with the protesters wishing to recreate what happened in ’68 (why on God’s Green Earth would you?!) and those who realize it would be a public relations disaster on a national and even international stage.

Westword is a favored read of mine every week or so and not because I’m spying on those dirty liberal hippies (Denver Police tried that and we all saw how that went) but because it usually presents an interesting perspective opposite of my own and therefore requires me to think.

This article was somewhat different because the writer (Jared Jacang Maher) didn’t take the usual “shine the nice lights” on the subjects that I tend to disagree with in regards to Westword. When I started reading words like “anarchists” and “not stating pacifist policies” my giant waving in the wind red warning (no, I’m not a member of the communist party) flag went atmospheric.

Do these guys really think this is going to end well for anyone? Recreate something that nobody really wants to see again? I know times are tough but I find it hard to imagine that we live in the same world as we did in 1968. Something tells me that time has moved on and we’re living in a different place. Sure, poverty still exists. Yep, war is still a concern. And apparently we still have people who wish this government was gone. I quote

“I’ll work with anybody who wants to make a positive change in this country,” he insists. “Once this government’s gone, then we can sort out how to fix this country. Too many people get sucked into ‘I’m a communist, so I don’t work with socialists who don’t work with anarchists.'”

Maybe it’s because I’m a to the right, but when I hear the sentence, “Once this government’s gone, then we can sort out how to fix this country.“, I get a little nervous. I don’t like anarchists. I think they’re the worst kind of activist because they simply want to destroy and level and refuse authority. I don’t have a very good relationship with socialists because I like what I have. And communists are never on my list of dinner guests. And people who want to get rid of the government? Please.

Now, if he was talking about President Bush, sure I understand. Wait until we as a country elect the next guy and we’ll get on our way.

Maybe my point is this and we can figure the rest out in comments. Our country is the greatest in the world. It works. It’s not like Myanmar where people are getting shot in the head for standing up for their rights. It’s not even close to Venezuela where the cable news stations were shut down because they went against their president. It’s not even close to Iran where women are beaten and prosecuted for not wearing enough covering. It’s not like Zimbabwe where the inflation percent is sky high where nobody can reach it and the dictator refuses to swerve in the never ending game of chicken. We’re far from being in Darfur’s situation where people are trying to get in to help and being refused entry.

This country may have her faults. Nothing is perfect. But the system works. We’re not dead yet. And I refuse to believe that recreating something that has the very distinct chance of being violent and out of control is a good idea.

What do you think?

UPDATED 10/26/2007 FROM THE COMMENTS with my comments.

“I think anarchists are too anarchistic get much done.”

That and the whole violence thing. Also,

“…but if they make some noise during the convention…”

Meaning destruction of property, calling for the demolition of the government yada yada…not really sure I’m too excited to see that display in my city.

Also Joe when you say this,

“Unless of course this is actually on to something…”

Doubt it. Stuff on the internets is hard to trust. Also,

“It’s when they’re prevented from doing these things, when they’re punished for their thoughts rather than their actions, that we’ll find ourselves in one of those countries you mentioned.”

When those things in those countries start happening here, we’ll talk again. Until then you’re just using the “IF” and “IT COULD HAPPEN” speech to try and prove a point that I don’t personally believe your able to win. Take it for a grain of salt obviously as it’s just what rolls around in this ugly mug of a head.

And of course Dicker hits it on the nose (we’re actually agreeing!)

“Dude: Pick an issue”

So true. Hold the course. Rove was/is a genius for his ability in crafting that focus. Also on topic,

“Sadly, that’s a job for Karl Rove and friends not sectarian leftists who seem far more interested in throwing public temper tantrums disguised as direct action than actually changing hearts and minds.”

BINGO BONGO! Now we’re reaching across the gulf and having a conversation. Rove knew and knows how to run the ship and make it a lean mean focused machine. Dems could learn from THE EVIL ROVE!01)!)! and if they did, there could be some good things that come from it. Dicker, I might send you a Christmas card yet…:)

And as for the DNC ’08 being meaningless, I hope it’s not true. As a former Democrat (still lean that way a few times a week) I believe if the Dems can move away from what both I and Dicker have talked about…there may be hope yet.

Boston Calling… anyone home? I mean…seriously. Here at Denver Metblogs we’ve been working to get more writers in the door and mixing it up a little and Boston’s just kind puttern’ along over ‘der. Boston, based upon what I’ve seen, you’re team is gonna lose.

And even if by some miracle of Pope John Paul II (rest in peace) comes back from the dead, blows open his tomb in a fiery display of righteousness and blesses the Red Sox as his first move as DOMINATOR…it still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got an overpaid baseball team with arrogance to match and players who seem so full of themselves that they seem asleep at the wheel until it’s a do or die situation and suddenly they wake up and decide to save the world.

Did I mention I’m not a fan of the Boston Red Sox? It was great watching ’em break the curse. Really. But now they’re like the Yankees and I think they need to go the way of the Yankees. Embarrassed, humbled and maybe even in tears if we can manage it.

The Rockies are an awesome team filled with humble, focused and mature young guys who simply want to play ball and enjoy it. They don’t posture. They don’t say things like, “It doesn’t matter” and act like a fool when they’re in dire straights. They focus. They pursue. They succeed.

I believe your Colorado Rockies can win the World Series. Sox…get ready to be ROCKED!

The trash talk…HAS BEGUN!

Twas Fleeting, part 5

part four here.

“‘Twas Fleeting” is a look back at December 20th to December 23rd, 2006 in which Denver was hit upside and sideways by one of the worst snow storms in our history here in Colorado. I was stuck in Denver Intl. Airport for the three day event and experienced so many emotions, events and memories that I’ve decided to share them. This is my story. *insert Law and Order Sound Effect Here*

It was approaching eleven pm at the airport on the 22nd of December. On December 20th, 2006 Denver Colorado was brought to a standstill by a powerful snow storm. Along with 5,000 others myself and new found friend Mark were living the life in Denver International Airport. We had lived two nights in the cavernous terminal. Clinical psychologists would have had a field day with us by this point in the adventure.

After calling around we found a taxi company willing to get us to the hotel that was waiting fifteen minutes from where we stood. The wait was probably worse than anything in the last few days. We smelled. We felt like vomit four times over. We looked like the undead. Our bodies were sore from the hard floor we had attempted rest upon. Our eyes twitched.

It took half an hour to point the taxi driver to where we stood. Even after that we had to travel up and down a few elevators to get where he was. The adventure didn’t end there. The drive was slow as Mark battled with the driver about the price. I didn’t speak and decided to let him have this fight. I was too tired, too fed up and was not about to be involved in something I felt was useless.

I never told Mark this but I felt like he was pushing the taxi guy around even when there wasn’t much dithering that could happen with the meter and our destination. Maybe he felt he could get the most out of the deal or something, but I just wanted him to pay the man and get us inside. I just wanted to get a shower, sleep and face the new day with some semblance of balance within my mind.

Sending the taxi away we checked in and walked to our room with smiles slowly breaking through the clouds of anger and frustration that had been over our heads since this tale had begun. There was hope a door away. We got in the room.

I beat Mark into the shower. There are words, phrases and images I could attempt to use to describe the moment in which the hot water graced my muddied epidermis. Within the pantheons of prose there might be some manner to describe the feeling and emotions that threatened to break as I cleansed my body of the last three days.

I couldn’t do it justice. Imagine the dirtiest situation you have ever been in. Put in your mind’s eye the sweatiest moment you’ve experienced. Take the hardest workout you’ve ever put your body through. Then imagine getting cleaned top to bottom with just perfectly steamed water as you’re massaged softly from head to toe as you’re fed the greatest food in the entire world.

That’s what it felt like. I took one shower. I slept wonderfully as Mark stayed in the shower for an eternity, no doubt washing all the florid words from his mouth. We knew we had to get up early to get back to the airport early enough to get on our respective planes and eventually get home to see our families and friends for the holidays. I was starting to feel the emotional impact of knowing my holidays were shortened with my parents and brother but also knowing there was nothing I could do about what had happened.

As we woke up around 4:00am we showered once more enjoying the last moment of warmth before plunging out into the cold weather, packed and ready to face the day. The shuttle from the hotel dropped us off and as we stepped into the airport we headed to our ticket counters. I to Frontier and Mark to United.

I didn’t know if I would see Mark again. I didn’t get a chance to thank him for being a friend to some random guy from Colorado. I didn’t get a chance to get an email or phone number from him. We both were so focused on getting into the lines we didn’t really know if we’d be getting out the morning of the 23rd. I found my line at frontier and made new friends as we waited for the men and women to man the counters.

People lined up behind us and far into the A concourse walkway again as we had done a day before. This time I was where I was supposed to be and just three bodies from the front of the line. I quietly thought about Mark and prayed he’d find his way home to Canada safely. He had been a great friend to stick it out with the weird nerd kid from Colorado. I thank Mark from New Orleans (originally from Canada) for his kindness and will not forget it.

I eventually ended up in the terminal at my gate finally with a ticket to Phoenix and then on to Seattle where my parents would pick me up and drive me back to Portland where I would spend a short Christmas. I landed in Phoenix (worst airport ever by the way) and with a fellow passenger found our way to get checked in and sitting at the gate.

Fog nearly seriously delayed our flight but thanks to God it cleared and we were on our way. Several hours later we touched down in Seattle as the sun was falling. The feelings that had followed me in the halls of the airport were still with me as I had spent most of the day on a plane stuffed in with others who simply wanted to go home. As I stepped into Seattle I smiled for the first time that day and found myself being interviewed by a camera man about what it had been like.

I stood near the baggage claim telling the tale of our adventures along with the 5,000 others. As I pull the camera up and away from me standing in baggage claim sharing the travails imagine music playing softly in the background swells as the scene moves out of the airport to above Seattle I realize a few things. It’s been a unique adventure. I met some great people. I’ve watched people cry because those that they love so very much will not see them this holiday season. And I will never forget those faces or the tears shed.

The scene fades to black.

I met up with my parents and we spent the remaining days enjoying each others company as much as we could. Every day since then I repeat the following things that I learned.

1: Never, ever no matter how cheap it is do I ever fly out of DIA in December. Eva’ again!

2: It could have been much worse. We were lucky to get stuck in DIA. It could have been Phoenix. Or New Jersey. Insert other terrible airports here.

3: No matter how rough or ugly it gets, there are always people around to remind you of the spirit of the Season. It’s not dead yet.

4: I still love my Denver. Ain’t nothin’ bettah!

Feeling smart? Maybe you just like alcohol.

So I have to admit. I’m not the smartest man around. I mean, I’m no imbecile but let’s just say that I was enrolled in college rather than attending college. That said, I think I’ve found an activity that will simultaneously make me feel smart, dumb and allow me to drink all at the same time. Bar Trivia.

Now I know you’ve probably heard of this and possibly even played. Being from Phoenix though, I hadn’t even heard of bar trivia until moving to the Mile High City a couple months ago. Well it’s grabbed hold and held on tight. The thrill of playing for that elusive bar tab … I mean come on, who doesn’t want a chance to drink for free?

I was introduced to bar trivia by my roommates boyfriend. There was an open spot on his team and I’m good for one or two correct answers a night (out of the 70 or so that they ask) so I figured, why not? Ah, great times. I never knew there was so much stuff I had never heard of before. It’s definitely a humbling experience.

Before playing, you must know the rules. The three main rules are: 1) Don’t shout out the answers. It’s no fun if people are yelling them out for everyone to write down. 2) Don’t f*** with the quizmaster and 3) The game is fixed. That’s all you need to know.

Teams can be as few as two and as many as six people. You can sign up on a mailing list to get a bonus question emailed to you every week and if you’re one of the ones who gets it right, you could win a nifty prize at the next event.


So if you’re looking for something to take about two hours out of your life while giving you the chance to win free bar food / alcohol, check out Geeks Who Drink and find a location close to you. Games are available every night except for Friday and are completely free to play (other than the cost of your food and drinks). So get going. Study up. Get those brain cells buzzing so you can kill a couple while trying to remember random facts that you never knew before. Just don’t start Googling things on your cell phone while the quiz is going on. We’ll see you and our evil eyes are quite a force to be reckoned with.

tickets, schmickets.

EDIT – Tuesday, 1pm: I’ve been trying unsuccessfully all morning, but my brother, who flew to Portland this morning, is sitting with my mom and they’ve gotten in twice. The first one got all the way to credit card processing and never gave back confirmation, the second time the sale was completed. It appears I’m going to the World Series, but it hasn’t been without issue. This is quite simply the worst ticketing system I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

anybody try to get through the snafu that was world series ticket sales today? Anybody actually get through? Anybody part of the mob on Blake Street today? What a ridiculous situation, all the way around. I say let the hard-core fans who are willing to camp out get the tickets.

Twas Fleeting, part 4

part three here.

“‘Twas Fleeting” is a look back at December 20th to December 23rd, 2006 in which Denver was hit upside and sideways by one of the worst snow storms in our history here in Colorado. I was stuck in Denver Intl. Airport for the three day event and experienced so many emotions, events and memories that I’ve decided to share them. This is my story. *insert Law and Order Sound Effect Here*

Day two came to a end as we lay down and tried to sleep. Before I laid back into nightmare land I had made the rounds with the interviewers from the tv stations and experienced my fifteen minutes of fame. I even made it to an MSNBC review of the storm which got me all smiling for about three seconds when I heard about it. Then I had flashbacks of the pain and tears and promptly imagined me and Julia Stiles married.

The second night was over and the third day was starting. Mark had lost it from head to toe. Words I can’t write here (or anywhere for that matter) were flying from his mouth. He was having to take walks around the airport in a attempt to calm himself. We had met a few people and watched pretty ladies parade past us. Much of this third day was us smelling like something that had been sleeping under ten feet of the stuff you would find out at the dump marinated in sweat, onions and stale animal crackers.

Translated, we smelled. The bathrooms were no longer of any use. If we could have put our whole naked bodies in the sink or god forbid the toilet and clean off the stuff that now clung to our skin, we would have. Everyone was in a surly mood and simply tired of feeling the way we did. The food was wrecking havoc on my body and we were forced to branch out from Panda Express and Burger King. It didn’t do much good.

They had opened terminals A, B and C to help get the 5,000 or so of us spread out a little bit more than we were. It helped in decreasing the claustrophobic factor but that was only one thing in our teetering on the edge of going crazy balance sheet. Most of said sheet was in the red with little hope for saving grace. Even my eternal patience was wearing down slowly as minutes became hours and the day stumbled along like a drunken sailor with two broken legs.

At some point midday the news of movement hit the fan as people began to line up. I have to give credit where credit is due. Frontier at the airport did the best they could and there was actually one guy who probably drew the short straw that was giving us updates. I had a ticket to leave on the 23rd. Today was the 22nd. I stood in line because I had no idea if we were getting out of the airport that night.

We weren’t. They processed the passengers for that day and people were getting out of the airport. With my confirmed ticket for tomorrow I wasn’t supposed to be in this line. However, I didn’t find that out until much later into the late afternoon. The lines were incredible. They had us lined up into the path to Concourse A. The line was wrapped seven times through the entire passageway. People were stuffed. People were tied. People were trying to laugh. And in that moment I met two guys from Nebraska who managed to give me an extra shot of patience and smiles.

For about four hours we trudged through the line, joked, laughed and even put stuff on the moving walkways to see how far it would go on the hand rail before someone knocked the object over. This game proved fun until we realized we might blow it up if it jammed on something. They were in town for a game or something. They wanted to go home but were high spirits.

Towards the end, they gave up and decided to rent a car to make the journey to Husker Country. I waved goodbye to them and found myself next to a gentleman who was Filipino. I had found another friend. We talked about life there and how he had found himself here in the United States. Eventually I found out I wasn’t supposed to be in the line and made my way back to the home where Mark and I had held court for the last few days. It was December 22nd, 2006. Tomorrow I had a ticket to Phoenix, AZ at 6:00am leaving on a Frontier plane.

When I returned, Mark wasn’t there yet. I waited until he arrived and guessed from his facial expression of rage, anger and generally not the happiest Canadian I had ever seen aura that he wasn’t pleased with the situation. The evening hours were nearly here as the sun was falling. “I can’t stay here anymore!” He kept saying that over and over. I started to feel like it would be nice to get into a shower as well. I was empty on funds and couldn’t swing the bill. He called and found a buddy willing to loan the $80.00 or so it would cost.

All that was left was getting a cab from the airport to the hotel. At this point it was about 10:00pm and the darkness outside blocked the world from us. We felt blocked in as we tried to find a way out.

It would be a full two hours before we managed to find a taxi to get us to comfort. It was the longest two hours of either of our lives.

Part 5 here.



Your Colorado Rockies are GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!


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