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.

Back To The Tried And True On Black Friday

It suddenly occurred to me that I have not resorted to posting my standard cliche photographs of both snowfalls and sunsets on the blog lately, and so felt I needed to remedy this oversight at once.  We had a snowstorm last week which produced maybe 3 inches of snowfall here in Denver and around 6 inches in Fort Collins, and since I was driving up to Fort Collins that day, decided to take a few photographs up there.  The one on the left shows my sister Susan's townhouse complex after that snowfall.  Fort Collins, as most people know, is the home of Colorado State University, which helps to add a lot of vibrancy (by which I mean bars, restaurants, and brew pubs) to Old Town, as downtown is known there.  Fort Collins is also home to a number of microbreweries, which also is a staple of the economy there.  College and beer.  I wonder if there is a connection?

And of course, there are always very pretty sunsets over the foothills west of Fort Collins.  That is where Horsetooth Reservoir is located, a popular boating and hiking spot in the summer,  but a little bleak in the winter - which it currently is up there.  When my mother would come to visit, she would refer to this park area as Whore's Tooth Reservoir, which is much more colorful but frankly does not describe the rock formation  the area is named after.  In any case, the photograph on the right is one of my cliche sunset shots looking west over my sister's townhouse complex.  And I must say, I do indeed like Fort Collins, but am not sure I would want to live there.  As opposed to Lakewood, Colorado, where I am damn sure I wouldn't want to live.

Happy Thanksgiving!

To tell the truth, I was not sure if the above photograph was taken on Easter Sunday or on Thanksgiving, but it is labeled Thanksgiving 1957 in my computer, so it must be Thanksgiving.  I'm sure I was much sharper when I scanned it all those years ago and knew what I was doing. This photo was taken in the living room of our house in Brainerd, a neighborhood on the south side of Chicago, back when I was a mere 4 1/2 years old.  From left to right are Aunt Kitty (my maternal grandfather's sister), my mother Mary, my Grandmother Spillard (my mother's mother), my Grandmother Hoyt (my father Nelson's mother), me, and in the background, Petie the parakeet.  My Grandmother's first name was Fleta, by the way, but my Grandfather always called her "Pete" for some reason.  I wonder if the bird was named after her?  In any case, I hope everyone enjoys Thanksgiving with their families today.  Enjoy them while you can.

Where The Wild Things Aren't...

I did a little research on my computer the other night, and I found out that the most moose sightings in Colorado were near Grand Lake, Colorado, and along the Kawuneeche Trail just to the north in Rocky Mountain National Park.  And I decided to go there and see for myself yesterday afternoon. The last time I was in Grand lake was when I accompanied my then wife Lisa to a weekend retreat with the choral group she belonged to at the time.  It seemed like it took forever to get there from Denver, but as I recall, we left on a Friday night after work (always a bad time to head for the mountains, what with all the traffic), which was probably why it seemed to take so long.  I checked Google Maps, and it said the trip would take a mere 2 hours and one minute from my condo in Denver, and I'll be damned if they weren't exactly right. I immediately headed to Grand Lake, where I took the photograph in the upper left of the above collage.  A great view, but not a single moose in sight.  I then headed to the Kawuneeche Trail and walked along it for about a mile, but still no moose.  After that I headed through the western entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, as seen in the bottom two photographs in the collage, but never saw even chipmunk.

When I got to the barricade marking the point where Trail Ridge Road was closed for the season, I turned around and kept an eagle eye out for any wildlife, especially moose, on my way back.  I stopped once again at Grand Lake, and the scenery was beautiful, but mooseless.  What is the deal with that?  I read on the internet about people seeing dozens of moose, not to mention bears, on their trips through this area, but when I myself drive up there, nothing.  I am really beginning to think that there are no moose in Colorado at all - that it is a lie, a shuck, a jive, a con, just to promote tourism in the state.  If you ask a ranger about it after a fruitless day of searching for wildlife, he or she will say "You should have been here yesterday.  There were two hundred moose out on the roadway, and they would not move.  People had a field day taking photographs."  Take my word - it is all a crock.  I don't even believe there are bears in this state, either.

And so I headed home as the sun started to set, having enjoyed the scenery and the walk in the woods, but disappointed once again not to have see a moose, a bear, or even a damn deer.  In point of fact, I saw a deer crossing the road just a few miles from Fort Collins a few days ago, but nothing at all around here.  One of these days, once the social security checks start arriving, I will have to drive up to the mountains and stay there over the weekend, heading out into the wilderness just before sunrise and just after sunset to prove one way or the other that there are actually any wildlife in this state.  I will do that if it's the last thing I ever do.  And it just very well might be.

LIARS!

Rosemary's Baby

I recently discovered that you can stream old movies on YouTube for a nominal fee, and therefore, a few days ago, watched Rosemary's Baby, starring a young Mia Farrow and a host of other stars.  It is supposed to take place at the Dakota, a creepy old building (where John Lennon was shot) just west of Central Park in New York.  This is where, unknown to Rosemary, a coven of witches regularly gathers, and conjures up the devil to produce a baby with Rosemary.  She should have gotten out of there as soon as she started hearing chanting coming from the next apartment late at night, but that's just me.  It is a great film, well worth the $3.00 to rent it, but now, late at night, I am beginning to think I hear chanting, too.  Probably just some of the University of Denver students who live in the building chanting the official DU song.  You have to admire such loyalty to their school. Nothing to worry about.  I think.

Grant Frontier Park

Grant Frontier Park is located along the Platte River, not too far away from my South Denver condo.  To get there you have to cross a bridge over a busy highway  and some railroad tracks, and then drive down a dead end road on the east side of the river.  It is a mostly industrial area, although very modest houses line the east side of the park.  I visited it years ago because it was the site of the first settlement in Denver, and there was what I think was the remains of an original cabin, as well as historical markers explaining the site.  I visited the park about a week ago, and found that it has been all spruced up, but they have removed that original cabin and the historical markers telling the story of the settlement.  Is this because it is not politically correct to mark the site of Denver's first pioneer settlers?  Whatever the reason, I still think it is a shame, despite the fact that the park is indeed all fixed up now.

I walked around a bit and noticed all the bikers riding the bike path along the Platte River.  I used to ride this bike path too years ago, but then for some reason stopped.  The path goes all the way to Littleton, a town 9 miles south of Denver that has been around since 1859, and is a fun place to walk around.  Hopefully when the weather gets warmer, I can start riding this path once again. In any case, walking the length of the park I noticed 4 feral cats (seen in the photo on the left) hanging out in the alley bordering the park.  I am very glad my sister Susan was not with me, because I am sure she would have insisted on taking them all home with her.  I am guessing they would not have come willingly, and the end result would have been having to start using my Medicare plan for the first time, something I am perfectly willing to delay for as long as possible.

There were also quite a few geese hanging out in the park, too.  They were also swimming out in the Platte River, too, which I don't recommend for man or beast (can I still use that phrase?). This of course reminds me that Thanksgiving is just a few days away, and Christmas less than five weeks after that.  I know that turkey is traditional on Thanksgiving, but what could be better than a nice fat goose for Christmas Day?  It would be a damn cheap dinner, too, although the thought that they drink and swim in Platte River water does give me pause. But what's the worse that could happen?  And if there are any negative effects, I can always blame it on the cranberries.  Time to start plucking!

Researching Family History

I recently signed up for one free month of Ancestry.com, in order to research our family history and to see if there might be a huge inheritance out there waiting for us.  Using the Ancestry.com website, I was surprised to find that so many ancestors on both sides of the family came from Canada.  Of course, I already knew that my Great Grandfather Charles St. Pierre (my mother's grandfather, seen in the photo on the right) was from St. Eustache, Quebec (near Montreal), where the family farm was located.  He and his family, including his wife and five children, (including my Grandmother Louise) would drive to Chicago during the winter where he would work as a carpenter, and they would go back to the farm in the summer.  "Pa," as he was known, eventually sold his share of the farm to his brother Dolph, and the family settled permanently in Chicago after that.  His son Eddie, a housepainter, died young, and one sister, Allie, stayed in Montreal, while my Great Aunt's Babe and Irene, as well as my Grandmother Louise, remained in Chicago.  But when I tried to delve into the Canadian records to find out more (like whether we stand to inherit that farm now worth a fortune), the Ancestry.com web site said I had to buy their international package, at a cost of something like $160.  What a ripoff.

In any case, Pa lived in the basement of my Great Aunt Babe's house at 85th and May on the south side of Chicago until he passed away at the age of 99.  He was born in 1853, and although I never knew him, my sister Susan did, and told me he gave her nickels whenever she visited.  I tried to find the house when I went back to Chicago a few years ago, but could not identify it.  It wasn't until I found Pa's application for US citizenship online (which contained a very weird clause that demanded that Pa never pledge loyalty to George VI), that I learned the actual address.  Sadly, via the internet, I found out that the house is a wreck, which I am glad my cousin Shirley never learned.  She was the last relative on my mother's side that I still talked with, and grew up in that house with my Aunt Babe, her father Byron, sister Betty, and her brother "Little" Byron, who weighed at least 250 pounds most of his life.  Shirley got married to Jack London at that house in the early 1950s, and before she passed away Shirley told me to look for her after her death on the steps of that house at 85th and May, as seen in the photo of her and her father Byron on her wedding day.  I still intend to go back there one of these days to see if she really is sitting there, and also will continue the search for my rightful inheritance, once I find out how to access Canadian records without paying that $160 Ancestry.com ransom.

Watching Leeds Play Wigan

I brought a pizza over to my friend Mark's house last night and we watched a soccer match between Leeds and Wigan (And yes - Wigan is indeed a town).  Mark was told by a friend of his who lives in Leeds that Leeds played very well that day, and Mark recorded the game to watch later.  I assume by "playing well" that his friend meant they actually won the game, which they did.  Mark has a lot of friends in and around Leeds, has visited there a number of times, and plans to go back again soon.  And as I have mentioned several times before, Lonely Planet named Leeds the 5th best travel destination in Europe last year.  I also have to mention that Lonely Planet is ceasing publication of it's travel magazine as of this month.  I wonder why?

What Might Have Been...

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, through pure good luck I was able to buy a condo very close to Washington Park, which is one of the best neighborhoods in not only Denver but the entire country.  The houses bordering the east side of Washington Park have a spectacular view of not only the park, but the mountains beyond, and there are many very nice homes that line this street, such as the one in the photograph on the left. I often walk the three or four blocks from my condo across the street from the University of Denver to the park and past these homes.  And back in the 1980s, when I was still married to my then wife Lisa, we thought of actually buying a place on this exclusive street.

It was not too long after we were married - probably around 1983, 84, or 85, and we were looking to buy a house in the area.  We were currently living in an apartment complex called the Woodwinds, the site of which is now a Light Rail Station just 2 doors down from where I now live.  We used to take long walks in the park and noticed that there was a small home for sale right on the park, looking west toward the mountains.  We checked the place out, and found out it was for sale for $279,000.  But back then, there was no way we could afford it, so we just forgot about it.  A couple of years later we got divorced, and so I am sure it would have gotten pretty complicated if we had purchased it. In any case, I recalled all this after walking past what I think was that house, seen on the far left in the photo on the right.  If we bought it, we would have made a small fortune, but on the bright side, I have missed 35 years of lawn work.  A fair trade-off in my book.

Washington Park In November

I am very lucky to live so close to Denver's Washington Park.  People come from miles around to walk around this beautiful area, and since I am just a few blocks away, I can walk there any time as I want. I recently did just that, and took the photographs seen in above collage.  The only reason I can afford to live in this neighborhood is because my apartment building, directly across from the University of Denver, went condo in 1999, and I was given the choice of being evicted or buying a condo in the building.  I decided to buy, and with the huge run up in the cost of both rents and real estate here recently, I have never regretted it. It was all luck and no foresight. Perhaps being lucky is indeed better than being smart.

South Pearl Street

I took a long walk through the neighborhood around my condo last week, and decided to head over to Denver's South Pearl Street to see what changes have taken place since I last visited.  Like Old South Gaylord Street, located on the opposite side of Washington Park, Pearl Street has a combination of businesses and residences, and is a pretty fun place to walk around.  The street originally had a lot of modest turn-of-the-century homes like the one in the photograph on the left, but these are quickly being replaced by new apartment buildings and duplexes, in addition to a slew of new restaurants and businesses.

One of the things I noticed on this walk was an airplane fuselage sitting on the patio of a corner coffee shop, which to me seems a bit on the strange side.  I assume this was not the location where the plane crashed - certainly this would have made the local paper - and so it must have been brought here on purpose.  But why not the whole plane, not just a part of it?  That is a question I will probably ponder for the rest of my life.  But it does show that there is always something to catch your eye in this neighborhood.

While the south end of Pearl Street is mainly residential, the upper end of the street has a lot of restaurants and shops, including Stella's, one of Denver's most popular coffee shops / hipster hangouts, and Kaos, my favorite pizza place / beer garden. Unfortunately, it has been a few years since I was last here, but I am glad to see it is still going strong.  It is a real pleasure to get a happy hour beer here and then sit down and watch the locals parade up and down the street.  I would suggest this place as a happy hour destination for some of the old DU Bookstore gang, but I'm afraid it might be a little too late in the year for this, unless of course global warming gives us a few more days in the 70s.  One can only hope.

My Dream Car

My friend Mark, who works at the University of Denver's Anderson Academic Commons (the library) has frequently asked me what my favorite car is, and now I think I have finally found it.  It is a Plymouth, no less - a 1932 Plymouth.  I saw it at the Forney Museum of Transportation last week, and I must say I am impressed.  I never thought I cared much for Plymouths, but I was wrong.  This car speaks to my inner sporty self.  It is like something they would have driven in Bringing up Baby or Topper.  Both of those movies starred Cary Grant, by the way, whom I have been told I closely resemble (see above photo if you don't believe me).  It is well known that cars depreciate tremendously every year - especially Plymouths - and so I am sure I can pick up one of these babies for a song.  It might need a new paint job from Maaco, of course, but then let the good times roll.

Dead Man Running

I just finished reading Dead Man Running, the newest mystery novel by Steve Hamilton. This is the latest book in the Alex McKnight series, and has been a long time coming.  Hamilton made his reputation on this series about a private detective living in the Upper Michigan Peninsula town of Paradise, but then decided to start a new series featuring a character blackmailed into becoming a hit man.  I have found this new series to be a pretty depressing read, and am glad Hamilton has returned, at least for now, to a new Alex McKnight adventure.  This time McKnight is summoned by the FBI to Phoenix, where a captured serial killer has stated that he will only speak to McKnight.  It is no surprise that this killer escapes police custody, and it is McKnight who must find him and bring him to justice.  This is a very exciting, very absorbing story and I can heartily recommend it.  Pick it up at your local bookstore today.

Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day, known as Remembrance Day in the UK and as Armistice Day in France, and this year marks the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I. This is the war in which 19th century officers led charges against 20th century machine guns.  The war wiped out an entire generation of men in Great Britain, not to mention the rest of Europe.  It was called the "War to End All Wars," but a mere 20 years later the world was once again at war, which is where my father Nelson (seen in the photograph on the left with my mother Mary and sister Susan) comes in.  He was a dentist in his mid-thirties when he got the surprise of his life and received a telegram telling him he had been drafted.  This photo was taken the time my mother and sister took the train from Chicago to visit him while he was training near Abilene, Texas, not too long before he shipped out to Okinawa.  Dad was never too crazy about being a dentist, and my mother thinks he secretly enjoyed his time in the army.  I know for a fact he never missed an episode of MASH, and once told me that show was exactly what it was like back in his unit on Okinawa.  Go figure. Happy Veteran's Day everyone.

The Walk Down 17th Street

I took the bus up University Boulevard the other day, got out at Colfax, and then walked from there down 17th Street to Denver's Union Station, where I can catch the light rail train home.  This is the walk I used to sometimes take going home from the Tattered Cover Bookstore, and I must say it is an even more enjoyable walk when you don't have to work there the entire day first. The walk down 17th Street is hipster territory, and I enjoy seeing what changes are happening - or not happening - around there.  I still like to admire the old Victorian house at the corner of 17th and Park Avenue (seen in the photograph on the left).  It is now a law office, and still standing, although a massive new apartment complex is being built right across the street.  I have noticed, by the way, that a great many law offices like to locate in old mansions, probably to give them a proper level of dignity, as opposed to their ambulance chasing style commercials.

The first mile of this walk goes past restaurants, bars, and both new and old and still under construction apartment buildings.  As you approach downtown, there are more and more office buildings, and then at Broadway you pass the Brown Palace Hotel (as seen in the photo on the right), which has been happily serving rich people since 1892. I must admit, the interior is quite impressive, with a spectacular atrium, the first floor of which still has an afternoon tea service. From there I switch to the 16th Street Mall, where the office workers were leaving work and heading to the bars for happy hour.  That final mile is the heart of downtown Denver, and stays pretty lively, even after all the office workers go home, which is not true of many cities.  Lincoln, Nebraska immediately springs to mind, but I digress.  The only negative part of the walk is that now that I am no longer employed, I don't have an Eco Pass and actually have to pay money to take the bus and light rail.  However, since I have now reached geezerhood, it is only $2.60 round trip, and even cheapskates like me can afford that.

The Kirkland Museum Of Fine And Decorative Art

I have always liked the Kirkland Museum, which is dedicated to preserving and exhibiting Colorado art of all types, including the paintings of Vance Kirkland, long time head of the University of Denver's School of Art. When I heard they were moving it from it's original location (and the location of Kirkland's art studio, as well) to a site across from the Denver Art Museum, I thought it was a big mistake.  However, this past Saturday night, since admission was free, I decided to check out the new building, and I must admit I was impressed.  This much larger facility has many galleries that can not only display Kirkland's abstract impressionist paintings and the paintings of other Colorado artists, but also it's huge collection of decorative arts.  Best of all, they moved Kirkland's three room art studio to the new site and attached it to the north end of the building, as seen in the above photo collage.  How great is that?  I can't wait for the next free day there.  I am after all a cheapskate.

A Night At The Museum - Remembering Polk Brothers!

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, this past Saturday night was "Free Night at the Museums, "and I took full advantage by visiting three of them. My next stop after visiting the Denver Museum of Nature and Science was the Forney Museum of Transportation, which features exhibits of trains, planes, and old automobiles.  I have visited this place several times, but since my last visit I saw that they have added a private railroad car that belonged to none other than Polk Brothers, a Chicago appliance and electronics store that has long been out of business.  A private railroad car.  No wonder they went out of business.  In any case, this car was evidently used in conjunction with the State of Illinois' Sesquicentennial, which was celebrated back in 1968 and which I clearly remember, although the celebration was overshadowed by the many other historic events that took place that year.

Seeing the name Polk Brothers brought to mind many other Chicago department stores that existed in my youth, but have since disappeared, such as Goldblatts, Wieboldt's, The Fair Store, and of course Marshall Fields, where for many years people would gather during the Christmas season at the State Street store to protest it's takeover by Macy's. I wonder if they still do? Several of these stores I remember visiting with my mother Mary and her mother (my grandmother) Louise at the Evergreen Park Shopping Plaza.  That was the shopping center everyone in the South Side Chicago Brainerd neighborhood would patronize.  My grandmother, who did not drive, just loved to go shopping, and my mother was happy to take her.  Come to think of it, there was also a Kroch's and Brentano's Bookstore there, too.  That was where I would often hang out while my mother and grandmother did their endless shopping, which is maybe one reason why I spent most of my working life in bookstores.  But I digress.  I don't know if any of those other stores had private railway cars, but I must say from looking at the photo on the right that the Polk Brothers executives sure had a good time while it lasted.

A Night At The Museum

This past Saturday night was "Free Night at the Museums," and as a confirmed cheapskate I decided to take full advantage.  I started at the Denver Museum of Nature of Science, which I have not visited in many years. They are currently having an exhibit on Cuba, which is where I started the evening.  It was mostly made up of large photographs of various Cuban people from various walks of life, expressing their feeling about life on the island, along with exhibits of various items the island is known for (cigars, bongos, and even a '57 Chevy).  It did not take long to walk through it, and was not that enlightening, although I did learn that Cuba has crocodiles, and that they are the most endangered crocodiles on the planet.  There is also an Imax  movie that complements the exhibit, and would probably have made the whole thing much more interesting, but it was not being shown that night.  Bummer.

My next stop was the Egyptian Mummy Exhibit, which was not there the last time I was at the museum and was pretty damn interesting.  Evidently up until 1946 you could actually buy a mummy as a souvenir in Egypt and have it shipped home, which is exactly what Pueblo, Colorado entrepreneur Andrew McClelland did back in 1905. These mummies eventually wound up at the Rosemount Museum in Pueblo, and are now on permanent loan to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science.  The mummy in the photograph on the right was buried 2,900 years ago, by the way, and interestingly enough, the sarcophagus she was buried in is 600 years older than that.  In other words, it was a used sarcophagus.

Studies show that the mummification process was done on the cheap in the case of this woman, and she was only lightly wrapped.  That and the fact that it was a used sarcophagus point to her being a middle class person, and not royalty.  The other mummy in the collection is also of a woman, but she remains tightly wrapped.  I guess one of the downfalls of being part of the ancient Egyptian middle class is that if your tomb is discovered, you might be put on display for all to see thousands of years later.  This was once a real, live person that is on display.  I wonder at what point a body goes from being a dead person to an artifact? Putting them on display somehow doesn't seem right, but what do I know?  What I do know is that I definitely plan on being cremated.  Let them put that on display in 3,000 years.

Riding The Blue Wave With Stuart

I went with my friend Stuart to the Old Chicago Restaurant on South Colorado Boulevard here in Denver last night for beers and hoagies.  Monday night football was on the television, but Stuart was far more interested in the mid-term elections.  Stuart feels that today will see a big victory for the Democrats.  I myself, after the last election, feel that anything can happen.  I will, however, be happy to see the end of all those political attack ads.  Virtually every candidate's political message that you see on television these days calls their opponent a son of a bitch, or far worse.  It makes you just want to curl up in a ball and hide out until the election is over.  Which is what I think almost half of eligible voters do these days.  Sad, as Donald Trump says.

Not Another Self Portrait?

Yes! How else can you find such a cooperative subject.  I took this "selfie," as the hipsters call it these days, in front of a work of art on Canyon Road in Santa Fe, the location of many of the city's art galleries. Virtually everything on display costs a small fortune, and the fact that my sister Susan bought nothing to take home during our trip there proves this.  I didn't even inquire about the price of the object behind me, although it would have looked great out on my balcony.  And why did I wait to put this photograph on my blog instead of with the other photographs of Santa Fe back in September?  Because I was afraid readers were getting burned out on photos of Santa Fe and the Southwest.  Much as I got burned out on Southwestern Cuisine after 4 days.  Still am, in fact.  A little bit goes a long, long way. Sopapillas anyone?

The Disappeared

I just finished reading C.J. Box's latest mystery novel, The Disappeared, which once again features Game Warden Joe Pickett and his sidekick Nate Romanowski.  This time Pickett is sent down to Saratoga, Wyoming by the governor to investigate the disappearance of an Englishwoman on vacation at a dude ranch. Like the rest of the books in the series, this is an excellent read, with a number of surprise twists at the end. Not only that, it takes place in Saratoga, a town that I have always wanted to visit and which is located about 2 1/2 hours northwest of Fort Collins, Colorado.  However, after reading this book, I only want to visit in the summer, which I think occurs in the month of August up there.  Be sure to pick up a copy today.

When First Friday Meets Dia De Los Muertos...

Last night the First Friday Art Walk took place here in Denver along Santa Fe Drive, and this month, it was all about the inaugural Dia de los Muertos Celebration and Parade.  Santa Fe Drive was closed down for the parade, which was a lot of fun to watch.  Everyone was dressed in their finest Catrina attire and seemed to be enjoying themselves very much.  Afterwards, a group decided to put on an impromptu dance presentation (as seen in the above photo) in front of the Museo De Las Americas, which sponsored the event.  A large crowd formed to watch them, to the frustration of the police, who wanted to reopen the street to traffic.  Eventually a Colorado Barricades truck  pushed everyone to the side, to the jeers and boos of the crowd, and traffic resumed.

Meanwhile, inside the Museo de los Muertos, they were having a costume contest, and I was able to nose my way up to the front to get a few photographs.  Most, if not all, of the participants were Hispanic, which seems pretty reasonable since Dia de Muertos is a Mexican tradition and the Santa Fe Arts District is in fact still an Hispanic neighborhood.  I suspect - but do not know for sure - that there is a high percentage of home ownership in this neighborhood. Otherwise I would think the hipsters would have taken over the area by now.  Sadly, last night I noticed a number of art galleries that are now permanently closed.  John Fielders' Photography Gallery closed months ago and nothing has ever opened in its' place.  The Art District, a very large gallery and one of the most popular, also closed down a few months ago.  Are there too many lookers and not enough buyers?  If I am any example, hell yes. In any case, the woman in the photo on the left seemed pretty shy, and moved back into the crowd right away after posing for the judges.  The official photographer asked her to come back so she could get a photograph, and I was able to get this photo at the same time.

I think the trio in the photograph on the right were in the contest too, and when someone asked to take their photo, I piggybacked onto this shot, too.  They were drinking wine and having a good time, as was everyone else in the place.  I must say, there was a very large crowd there, as there was at all the other galleries, too. One of these galleries was having a grand opening, with a free buffet table and lots of places to sit down.  There was a couple painting a mural on the wall, and there was even a DJ spinning tunes (at a very high volume, naturally).  The place was wall to wall with hipsters, of course.  I walked in, could barely move through the room, and quickly walked out again, which is saying something when free food is available.  Oh well, perhaps the buffet table will still be there next month, but with fewer hipsters.

The Day Of The Dead

In addition to being All Souls's Day, today is also the Day of the Dead (or Dia de Muertos in Spanish), a very popular Mexican holiday. As with All Saints' Day, the holiday was once a far more ancient festival, celebrated by the Aztecs at the beginning of each summer, and then moved to November 2nd to coincide with the Christian holiday. It is a time for people to remember friends and family who have passed on and to visit their graves with flowers, candles, and even the departed ones favorite foods.  Here in Denver it seems like just another excuse to dress up in costume and party. And in fact, there will be a Dia de los Muertos Celebration and Parade through Denver's Santa Fe Arts District during tonight's First Friday Art Walk. The article in the newspaper said to wear your best Catrina attire, which I assume is what the fellow in the photograph on the left is doing.  Unfortunately, all my Catrina attire is at the cleaners, but maybe I'll go anyway.

All Saints Day

Today is All Saints Day, also known as All Hallow's Day, and tomorrow is All Souls' Day.   This is the time when families traditionally visit cemeteries to lay flowers and candles on the graves of deceased loved ones. It is believed that All Saints' Day was chosen to be November 1st to coincide with the Celtic festival of the dead (Samhain), in order to persuade pagans to convert to Christianity.  This was also the reason an early pope chose December 25th to celebrate Christ's birth, since it coincides with the Winter Solstice,  the major pagan holiday of the year.  Historians actually believe Christ was born in the springtime. After all, shepherds don't tend to their flocks in the middle of winter.

To celebrate this holiday, I drove out to Riverside Cemetery, Denver's oldest, founded in 1876.  Originally, Denver's cemetery was located where Cheesman Park and the Denver Botanic Gardens stand today.  Back at the end of the 19th century, it was decided that Denver needed this cemetery for parkland, and it hired someone to move the bodies interred there to Riverside and Fairmount Cemeteries.  To save money, the contractor decided to dismember the corpses and combine them in fewer coffins to save money.  Eventually the project became such a fiasco the city decided to stop it, leaving many bodies still buried or in pieces at Cheesman Park and the Botanic Gardens.  It is rumored that there are a LOT of angry spirits hanging out in the area.  Definitely don't go there at night.

In any case, I personally find all this a bit creepy, although I must admit there are a lot of interesting Victorian monuments at Riverside, not to mention some pretty scary looking crypts. These days the area around Riverside has gone from countryside to heavy industrial, and so it is no longer a popular spot to be laid to rest.  Now that the State of Colorado is rebuilding Interstate 70 a few miles away, it not very easy to get to, either - lots of detours through a maze of industrial sites.  And I must report that I did not see a single ghost during my visit, only one couple walking around the grounds besides me.  I do have to wonder why they were wearing Victorian clothing, however, and why it appeared that you could see right through them. No doubt a trick of the light.