Winter Is Coming!

We have already had several snowstorms here in Denver, and tomorrow is the 1st of December, which can be one of Denver's snowiest months.  This has made me think about my feelings about snow these days. And my conclusion is that if I have to drive in it - especially across the open plains on the way to Fort Collins - I absolutely hate it.  It is no fun when the wind whips it up and you can only see 3 feet in front of you.  I usually try to get behind a truck and follow it, optimistically believing the driver can see much better than me.  And I haven't changed my mind about snow since I slipped on black ice in my parking lot the other day and landed flat on my back.  I still feel the pain. Of course, when I was a young lad and didn't have to either drive in it or shovel it, I loved the snow, and thought it made for cool photographs, like the one on the left I took of my mother back in 1962 in front of our house in the Brainerd neighborhood, on the south side of Chicago.  She was either just arriving home or about to leave on an errand in our '61 Pontiac Catalina.

My favorite snowfall photograph is the one on the right, a shot from my bedroom window, also taken in 1962. To me it looked like a different world, seeing all that snow gathering on the roof of our enclosed back porch and the garage beyond.  We unfortunately moved to the southern suburbs of Chicago (a truly hellish place) in 1966, and the following January of that year had a massive blizzard.  My sister was stranded in a bar near the Tinley Park Rock Island Station for two days, eventually walking home through huge snowdrifts, and my father wound up staying with his friend Norm Taylor at his place near Chicago's Foster Park. School was cancelled for 3 days, which made the storm okay with me, but I suspect the rest of the family had different opinions.  As soon as my father retired, he and my mother headed to Stuart, Florida, where you might see an occasional snow flake every 30 years or so.  Go figure.

Mingling With The Hipsters - Or Not

I recently took the bus to the corner of Josephine and Colfax, close to the Tattered Cover Bookstore (my old employer), and then walked the 3 miles to Denver's Union Station, just like I often did when I worked there. And trust me, it is a much more enjoyable walk when you don't have to put in an 8 hour day first.  I took my usual route down 17th Street - past all the hipster bars, shops, and apartments - until I reached Lower Downtown, which is hipster central.  I took the above photograph in the alley in the middle of The Dairy Block, Denver's newest hot spot.  The main attraction is the Denver Milk Market, still another in the long line of food halls that are starting to pop up all over town.  Just last week I passed by the Denver Central Market on Upper Larimer Street, another one of these hipster food halls.  The reason I look so hesitant in the photo above is that I was deciding whether or not to go inside.  The last time I went into one of these hipster havens was when I visited Avanti, a food hall located in the Lower Highlands neighborhood. The view of Denver from the rooftop is spectacular there, but the beer I ordered cost $7.00.  And just yesterday I read that the hippest happening last Christmas here in Denver - a "pop-up" bar called Miracle at Avanti - has opened up once again this year at that location, and people are already clamoring for reservations - to sit at a bar, no less.  Personally, I think the miracle will be if you can get out of there paying less than $10 for a beer (plus tip, of course).  But that's just me.

When You Can't Stop

I am currently reading When You Can't Stop, the latest book by James W. Hall - and no, this is not a biography of Tiger Woods, but the second book in a new mystery series by Hall.  For many years, he wrote a mystery series featuring Thorn, a guy who lived on Key Largo in Florida and always wound up getting involved in various adventures.  He ended that series a few years ago and now has started a new one featuring heroine Harper McDaniel.  In the first book, Harper's husband and infant son were murdered because of a newspaper story her husband was intending to write.  Harper finds the man responsible, a Swiss industrialist, but he escapes justice through political influence.  This time she receives a tip on how to finally nail him, and with the help of her retired mafia boss grandfather and brother decides to do just that.  It is an exciting read, and I recommend reading it, although I must say I miss the Thorn series.

Watching The Broncos Win Big

My friend Stuart and I got to Old Chicago in Lakewood, Colorado just in time to watch the Denver Broncos win a close contest against the Pittsburgh Steelers during the 4th quarter.  The Broncos have now won 5 games and lost 6, which to me spells a losing record, but the optimistic fans in Denver are once again talking playoffs.  Of course, this is after all "Broncos Country," and if the team doesn't make the playoffs, the entire region will demand wholesale firings. Football is serious stuff around here.

I Finally Get It...

I have frequently commented in this blog about all the encounters people have here in Colorado with wildlife, not only up in the mountains, but in the suburbs, too, as reported by the local television news programs. Practically every day there is another story about someone trying to take a moose "selfie," with disastrous consequences, or spotting a bear cub in a tree in their back yard, or for that matter bears getting into their car and ripping it to hell while eating the Cheetos it found there.  But I myself have never seen a moose, a bear, a mountain lion, or any other creature more exotic than elk and deer outside of the Denver Zoo.  And why is this?  I thought it was just bad luck, but seeing this bear at the zoo sticking it's tongue out at me has made me change my mind.  Could this not be a coincidence?  Are these animals purposely avoiding me? Am I becoming a raving paranoid?  Don't answer.

Soulful Stares At The Denver Zoo

I have to say that the monkeys and apes seem to be the most intelligent animals at the zoo. Whenever I take a photograph of them, you can almost see the pain of being incarcerated in their eyes.  The other animals are different.  The lions and tigers and other big cats just seem to be sizing you up for dinner, while the giraffes and zebras just spend the day eating, without a seeming care in the world. But you just know that the little guy in the photo on the left realizes he is in there for life.

The same thing can also be said for the mandrill in the photo on the right.  This guy and his fellow mandrills often are kept in a much larger compound where they can hide in trees or behind foliage, but once in a while they are put in a smaller cage just adjacent to the main compound, which for some reason makes them more willing to interact with zoo visitors.  You also know this mandrill knows he has a life sentence hanging over his head, and that he holds you - the zoo visitor - personally responsible.  I am pretty sure if he ever got out of there he would go for the jugular with his sharp teeth.  It would, of course, make for a great photo - if you were able to escape, that is.

However, it is a totally different story with the monkey on the left.  I am pretty sure he is smoking a joint. The expression in his eyes says it all.  Marijuana is legal here in Colorado, at least for people, but I guess there is no reason why animals, especially these sad and bitter monkeys, shouldn't be allowed to partake.  What's good for the goose is good for the gander, after all (I just thought that expression up. Feel free to use it).  In any case, perhaps the Denver Zoo is testing marijuana out with this monkey, and if the results are good, it will be expanded to other animals showing signs of depression.  It is certainly better than releasing them all and letting them take out their frustrations on zoo visitors.  I suppose.

Doing Tricks For Treats

To celebrate Black Friday, I decided to spend part of the afternoon at the Denver Zoo, and I arrived just in time to see a show put on by Maverick, a California Seal, and his trainer. According to the person narrating the demonstration, because the temperature of the water has increased by a mere 2 degrees, the fish have gone to lower depths in the area where Maverick lived, resulting in him not being able to get enough food to feed himself.  As a result, Maverick wound up on the beach, malnourished and looking for a handout.  According to Fox News, this is true of a lot of Californians.

Maverick was taken to some sort of wildlife rehabilitation center, pronounced well, and released back into the ocean, only to once again wind up on the beach, looking for handouts.  Typical Californian behavior, I am sure Fox News would say.  In any case, it was determined that Maverick could not survive on his own, and like many many other Californians, wound up here in Denver.  Unlike the majority of these Californians, however, the zoo keepers were able to teach Maverick a lot of nifty tricks, and after each one he gets a special treat (probably sushi).  It was a fun demonstration, but it makes me wonder.  Is Maverick just another animal locked up at the zoo, or is he merely working the system?  You tell me.