April 30th...

Today is April 30th, the anniversary of the fall of Saigon and the end of the Vietnam War back on this date in 1975.  I remember watching this war on the evening news starting in 1964, when I was in the 6th grade at Fort Dearborn Grammar School in the Brainerd neighborhood of Chicago, and no way did any of us realize that the war would go on as long as it did.  I remember years later when I was attending IIT (the Illinois Institute of Technology) walking to the bookstore and opening up the Chicago Daily News (one of the evening papers in Chicago) to see what my number was in the 1972 draft lottery.  My number was over 300, thank God, and I didn't have to go to Vietnam, but many thousands did and died there.  I remember listening to the fall of Saigon in a cottage in Jensen Beach, Florida, on a trip to see if my parents wanted to move to Stuart, where my Uncle Bill and Aunt Elsie had moved.  They did move there the following year, but I digress.  That day, exactly 44 years ago, was the true end of the war, which resulted in over 58,000 American soldiers lost, not to mention the thousands of Vietnamese soldiers and civilians killed on both sides. All for nothing. A true tragedy.

Watching The White Sox Play The Tigers With Mark

I invited my friend Mark (who works at the University of Denver's library - strangely called the Anderson Academic Commons) over to my condo yesterday to watch the Chicago White Sox (my South Side heros) play the Detroit Tigers.  Mark is a big fan of the Tigers, since his father grew up in Michigan's Upper Peninsula (which has about the same climate as Siberia, but with much more snow). During the top of the 9th inning the White Sox were leading 4 to 1, and you could just see the fans at Comiskey Park (or whatever the hell they call it these days) holding their collective breath, hoping beyond hope that the Sox would actually win the game. But win they did. Can a World Series appearance be far behind?

The Platte River Rowing Club

The temperatures are getting into the upper 70s and lower 80s here in Denver these days, and that means biking weather.  I try to walk the neighborhoods when the weather is cold or it is raining, but feel I need to get out on the bicycle when the temperature gets warmer.  Therefore, I went for a ride through the RiNo and LoHi neighborhoods this past week, and took the above photograph of the Platte River Rowing Club. It is located (Surprise!) on the Platte River, and is currently, according to Google, an "historic" office building (with space available).  The only other reference I found was a visit to the place by Princess Alexandra, a member of the British Royal Family, back in 1984.  I was living in Denver at the time, but can't remember any mention of the event.  And so I ask: why is the building historic? Why was it visited by a member of the British Royal Family?  And does this have anything to do with the death of Princess Diana?  One thing I do know.  The place seems to have nothing to do with rowing.

The G Line!

G Line! It's The G Line! We'll have a Yaba-Daba-Do Good Time! That is my personal ode to the opening of Denver's newest Light Rail, with all apologies due to the Flintstones Cartoon People.  And this is all because yesterday, after a two year delay, the G Line to Old Town Arvada and Wheat Ridge (suburbs just to the northwest of Denver), finally opened.  It was delayed because there was a software glitch that kept the crossing gates down longer than mandated, sparking fears from the Federal Department of Transportation that people would get impatient, go around the gates, and get splattered.  Evidently they don't believe  in letting Darwin's Theory of Evolution take its course.

In any case, I made it a point to take advantage of the hoopla and ride the train out to Old Town Arvada and take a few (by which I mean a lot) of photographs.  Arvada is a lot like the town of Littleton, which I have also featured on this blog.  Both were settled by farmers in the 1860s.  The actual town of Arvada was started in 1870, pretty similar to Littleton, and it grew to be a fairly good sized suburb of Denver, with a very quaint, historic downtown, consisting of a lot of bars, restaurants, boutiques, and brew pubs. What's not to like, especially with trains taking you there every 15 minutes?  Life here in paradise has gotten even better.

More Chicago Nostalgia

I received the April Chicago Magazine the other day (have you received yours yet?) and must say it was a particularly interesting issue.  I especially like the ads, which tell me almost as much about the city's trendiest new neighborhoods as the articles.  As soon as you open the magazine this month, there is a two page ad (the photo from which can be seen above) for NEMA, a recently completed 76 story luxury apartment building on the corner of 12th and Indiana (I actually thought NEMA was some sinister psychiatric hospital in an old Disney movie, but I could be wrong).  In any case, the ad brought back a lot of memories, because the photograph in the magazine shows 1130 South Michigan (the triangular building 4th from the right of the tallest in the photo, which is NEMA).  And 1130 South Michigan is where my sister Susan and brother-in-law George lived for a number of years, and just loved it.

Susan had a studio apartment on the 40th floor, and George had a studio there, too.  That is where they met. When they got married, they moved into a one bedroom with a view of South Michigan Avenue and the lakefront.  I took the photograph on the right around 1970 during one of our visits to that apartment.  From left to right it shows my mother Mary, brother-in-law George, sister Susan, and father Nelson.  From the looks in the photograph, I would say my mother and sister were having issues that evening, but who knows after this long? I brought the magazine up to Fort Collins the other day to show Susan, and she was very surprised at how small 1130 South Michigan looks in the photograph.

Susan thought she was living on top of the world on the 40th floor, but NEMA dwarfs it these days.  I checked out rental rates there, and found you could rent a studio (I am going with the upper range since I assume they are on the highest floors) for $2,000 and a one bedroom for $2,600.  As for a two bedroom unit, don't even go there.   I took the photograph on the left out the window of Susan and George's apartment probably the same time I took the previous photograph.  The neighborhood has obviously change a LOT since then. No more giant Pepsi sign that gives you the time and temperature 24/7.  And I suspect the Hotel Crillon (seen on the right in the photograph on South Michigan Avenue) is no longer there renting rooms for $2.25 a night.  Just a hunch.

Springtime In Wash Park

The temperature reached 75 degrees here in Denver this past Friday, and I biked to the Lower Downtown (LoDo) neighborhood and back to take advantage of the great weather. My route - as usual - took me through Denver's Washington Park both coming and going, and I snapped the photograph above on my way back to my condo.  I have to admit I often take for granted living where I do, and don't fully appreciate how lucky.  And contrary to previous reports, people are still moving here in record numbers, despite the rising cost of living in this city.  As someone recently explained to me, many companies are moving their operations here, and bringing along their high-paid employees, who can afford Denver's ever increasing rents and home prices.  Good news for the economy, bad news for locals who don't own their own homes. Obviously, living in paradise is not perfect.

A Daily Double

Yesterday I had to stay home all day while workers  installed a new radiator in my condo.  The place was built in 1967 (seriously, does that sound old for a building to you?), and so parts were not available to fix the old unit. Hence, while they installed the new one, I sat and read in my den as the installation team worked in the living room.  In that time, I actually started and finished Tuesdays With Morrie, an inspirational book about the meaning of life that was on the bestseller list for 4 years at the end of the last century.  I just knew I would get to it some day, and now I have.  A good book to read if you are one of the few that hasn't.

Tuesdays With Morrie was about a sociology professor at Brandeis University who was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), facing death within months, and a former student who commuted from Detroit to Boston every Tuesday to once again hear his old professor's wisdom and positive outlook while facing the end of his life. The book truly makes you think about what is important in life and how to live while you are still alive.  After I finished the book, the workers were still trying to install the unit (many problems, naturally), and so I wound up finishing reading Clownfish Blues, still another Tim Dorsey novel about Serge, a Florida serial killer with a heart of gold (who prefers to be called a sequential killer, since he doesn't kill unless the person truly deserves it). In the book, when a Miami police detective asks a pizza delivery man if he noticed anything unusual going on in a motel room where he delivered pizza, he replied "not really. The thin one had a beauty contestant sash on him, the chubby one was wearing a panda head, and the dude tied up in the chair wore an orange safety cone on this head." The detective asked if all this seemed normal to him, and the pizza guy replied that the detective must be new to Miami.  Does this seem really funny to you, too, or have I just gone round the bend?

The Squirrel Conundrum

I took my sister Susan's dog Blackberry for a walk up in Fort Collins the other day, and we  happened upon a squirrel, which immediately fled up a tree and absolutely captivated Blackberry's attention.  The squirrel jumped back and forth between trees, and Blackberry ran from one tree to another, tracking it's every move. And what would Blackberry do if she actually caught the damn thing?  If history is any guide, she would pretend she didn't see it, and then run off in the opposite direction.  Not a brave dog, but a sweet one.

Showing The Colors

The temperatures are getting into the 70s and 80s here in Denver these days, which means it is time for biking.  This past Friday afternoon I rode from my condo across the street from the University of Denver to downtown and from there to the River North neighborhood, surveying the scene around there. One thing I noticed is that people start the weekend pretty early up there. Are they all independently wealthy, or are the companies they work for especially lenient? I suspect I will never know.  All I do know is that these days, while biking, I need to cover up my head, since I seem to have a little less hair than I used to.  And if I need to do that, why not wear the cap of my favorite team, the Chicago White Sox. It is time to shed our dirty south side guilt, and take pride in our team.  No matter how much they stink.  So there.

Happy Easter!

Today is Easter Sunday, and therefore I am featuring several photographs taken at our home in the south side Brainerd neighborhood of Chicago back on Easter Sunday in 1957, when I was a young and very charming 4 year old.  The photo on the left is of my father Nelson and mother Mary taking a break from cooking that Easter dinner. My sister Susan remembers how my father Nelson would get up early on Easter and hide chocolate Easter eggs, which we would all look for later in the morning.  Both our dog Irma and my father would usually be the big winners in this contest, especially since my father was the one who hid these eggs in the first place.

My mother just loved that house in Brainerd, and hated leaving it even to go on vacation.  The photograph on the right shows her setting the dinner table that long ago Easter Sunday.  You can just see in that photograph how much pride she took in our home. For all of you with families that can still get together for these special holidays, I truly hope you have a wonderful time. Happy Easter Everyone!

The Lower Highlands

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, I visited the River North neighborhood this past Tuesday, and Wednesday decided to walk around the Lower Highlands neighborhood (LoHi). This is one of Denver's oldest neighborhoods, just across the Platte River from downtown Denver, and was once a mostly Hispanic neighborhood.  It is now the most trendy area in the city, and new apartment complexes and condos are going up all over the place.  Unlike the River North neighborhood, it was always a residential neighborhood, and therefore has many beautiful Victorian homes.  As long as I had the time, I decided to visit Avanti, a very popular food hall, and found it was still hopping even in the middle of the afternoon. The last time I was there, I paid $7.00 for a single beer, and am still suffering from that shock. The view from the rooftop is great, but not that great, thank you very much. At least for non-hipsters.

River North

The River North neighborhood (RiNo) is a former industrial district just north of downtown Denver that is being transformed into an arts, retail, and residential area.  The other day I decided to take a walk through the western, most recently developed part of this area to see what is happening over there.  I parked my car along upper Larimer Street (hipster central) and walked from there.  To get to Brighton Boulevard - the main drag for this western segment of the district - you have to cross a pedestrian bridge over a large railroad yard, and I must say, although there are a lot of new apartments, condos, brewpubs, and even a new hotel and food hall called The Source over there, the area is still pretty gritty, and virtually treeless.  However, kitty corner from the pedestrian bridge is a 19th century building fronting the railroad tracks, with a business on the first level and apartments on the second.  I took the above photograph of the entrance to the back garden of this building, and feel this place is the nicest part of the Brighton Boulevard area.  Modern apartment buildings in a treeless industrial area just do not appeal to me, even if they are just a few minutes from downtown.

The April Mutt Of The Month

I took the photograph of this month's mutt of the month at the Golden City Brewery beer garden this past Sunday.  There were a number of dogs enjoying the pleasant afternoon there, although I didn't see any of them drinking beer.  I assume there must be some sort of regulation against that.  There was also a boxer sitting right behind me, so close that it's tail was constantly hitting me in the back.  What I have to put up with just to have a beer.

More About Golden

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, my friend Stuart and I spent part of Sunday afternoon in Golden, Colorado, hiking a few trails and afterwards having dinner and beers, including at the beer garden at the Golden City Brewery (Golden's second largest brewery).  As I have said before, Golden is a really nice old town, and was Colorado's first state capitol, until some shifty politicians got it moved to Denver. Since the legislature in Golden met above a bar (now called the Capitol Grill), I would think that would have been a much more handy location for them, but what do I know about politics?  One thing we did notice was a shop in the downtown area called Spinster Sisters.  Is that politically correct?  It is definitely something to investigate.

The Trail Head Taphouse

My friend Stuart (pictured above) and I visited the Trail Head Taphouse in downtown Golden, Colorado this past Sunday for cubano sandwiches and beer.  It had a pretty good crowd for a Sunday afternoon, and I must say the food is pretty good.  Before we had dinner, we hiked the trails along Clear Creek (from which Coors beer is made, I might add), and afterwards went to the beer garden at the Golden City Brewery (which bills itself as the second largest brewery in Golden) for a nightcap.  The place was hopping, filled with happy Golden residents (and their dogs), as well as Colorado School of Mines students enjoying the warm evening.  You can't beat fun at the old beer garden, I always say.  At least I am saying it now, anyway.

April 15th!

Today is April 15th, the deadline for mailing in income taxes, and since once again I owe money to the government this year, I waited until today to send them out.  It has been a very long time since I actually got a refund, and so unlike a lot of other people who have gotten sizable refunds in the past and this year have to pay, I am not shocked.  I am just happy to contribute to the finely running system of government we have operating these days.  Perhaps my taxes will pay for the gas to bus asylum seeking immigrants to sanctuary cities.  One can only hope.

Getting Together With The DU Bookstore Gang

Last night I got together with my friends and former University of Denver Bookstore employees (and their spouses).  It has been a number of months since our last get-together, and so it was fun to find out what everyone has been up to. Darrel - the former Accounts Payable Manager of the store - and his wife Linda (the couple on the left in the above photograph) recently returned from a month long vacation in Arizona and California.  Valarie - the former Operations Manager of the store - and her husband Jake (the couple in the middle) recently returned from a trip to Hawaii. Chris - the former Accounts Payable Assistant at the store - and her husband Jim (on the right in the photo) are both still working, and have not taken any trips recently, although Chris will be soon retiring from her job with one of the University of Denver's science departments, leaving Jim the only one of the group who will be still working. Thanks for paying all those social security taxes to support the rest of us, Jim! We appreciate it.

The Pope Of Palm Beach

I recently finished reading The Pope of Palm Beach, a Serge A. Storms novel by Tim Dorsey.  This series features Serge, a serial killer with a heart of gold, and his drug-addled friend Coleman, who roam the State of Florida to see it's wonders and to avenge the evil deeds of the many low-life criminals who live in that state.  In the Pope of Palm Beach, they begin a literary tour of Florida, starting in Key West and then driving up the coast to Rivera Beach, Serge's (and Tim Dorsey's) hometown.  There they find one of Serge's favorite authors, who has been hiding out for years after he and his mentor, a surfer named Darby Pope, ran afoul of the mafia.  For a long time I read this series (usually advanced reading copies) as soon as they came out, but stopped reading them a number of years ago.  I finally decided to start back again beginning with the newest and going backwards until I come to the last book in the series I have read.  This particular story features a part of Florida I know well, and includes a dramatic finale at Trapper Nelson's old campsite in Loxahatchee State Park, which I have visited and enjoyed.  If you like reading Carl Hiaasen's wacky Florida crime novels and are looking for something even weirder, be sure to give this series a try.

Best Friends

My mother Mary met Peggy Caitlin when, as children,  they were both living in an apartment building in the south side Brainerd neighborhood of Chicago, right along the Rock Island Railroad tracks.  Peggy's father was the janitor, and once worked in the coal mines of southern Illinois, until he was injured, and the family moved to Chicago, where he took whatever jobs he could get.  Both Peggy and my mother went to Calumet High School, also located on the south side of Chicago, and remained friends for the rest of their lives. The photograph on the left shows my mother (on the left) and Peggy (on the right)  posing in downtown Chicago, most likely around 1937 on LaSalle Street, where my mother worked at an insurance company before she was married.

Peggy moved to Connecticut after getting married, but they still kept in touch, and for many years would get together at a summer home owned by a mutual friend on Cape Cod, located in the town of Chatam. The photo on the right shows Peggy (on the left) and my mother Mary (on the right) posing on the patio of that house, enjoying good times in the latter part of their lives. We should all be so lucky. Sadly, both Peggy and my mother are gone now, as well as that summer cottage, which was sold and no doubt torn down to build a year-round McMansion. I wonder if they call them that back east, or perhaps something more elegant?

This Storm Was NOT The Bomb

Denver and the rest of Eastern Colorado experienced a snowstorm yesterday that was predicted to be another "bomb cyclone," a major blizzard that hit the city last month and resulted in hundreds of motorists being stranded and needing rescue, as well as leaving 400,000 people without power. Airlines canceled hundreds of flights in advance of yesterday's storm, and many offices and businesses closed at 12 noon. As it turned out, the storm was greatly over-hyped, and the weather forecaster's predictions ("We are all going to die") did not come true. Sadly, all city and state offices also closed at noon, throwing many homeless people (who hang out in the library to keep warm during the winter) out into the storm, which was not a major blizzard but still pretty miserable. By the way, I took the photograph on the left at what I believe was the height of the storm from out of the window of my condo, in between working on my taxes and watching the Chicago White Sox game on MLB.com.

And I have to say, watching that baseball game, it looked pretty damn wet and cold in Chicago, too. Which is probably why the White Sox lost to the Tampa Bay Rays 9 to 1. The White Sox  are not used to such miserable conditions, unlike those Tampa Bay Rays.  And if you believe that...  But I digress.  Once the sun set, the snow started accumulating on the ground, and from all reports, the roads were beginning to ice up.  But seriously, why would you be out on the roads anyway? No doubt it was all those Californians who have moved here lately, and still think they are in LA.

"The Bright Lights Of Lakewood"

I drove out to beautiful, exotic Lakewood yesterday evening to have dinner and beers with my friend Stuart (seen in the above photo) at the Old Chicago Taproom.  We were able to snag an upstairs table where we were able to both look out over the rooftops of Lakewood and also watch the Colorado Rockies lose their 5th game in a row, this time to the Atlanta Braves. The Rockies have yet to win a game this year at Denver's Coors Field.  Is that a bad sign or what?  And so we turned our full attention to the view of Lakewood from the rooftop patio, from which I was not able to spot a single person out on the street, despite the fact it was such a balmy evening.  No doubt people there are afraid they will get trapped and killed when they roll the sidewalks up each evening.

Back To The Littleton Historical Museum

I decided to head back to the Littleton Historical Museum to walk around and take a few photographs last week. The museum itself is very interesting, with lots of exhibits about the history of the area, but what I like best is walking around the grounds, where they have an 1860s homestead farm and an 1890s urban farm on the grounds, as well as a variety of farm animals.  The farm animals are very friendly, and all seem to want to be petted, although it is expressly forbidden (I did it anyway - call me a rebel without a cause).  Afterwards, I toured downtown Littleton itself, a nice old town (it was incorporated in 1890) with a lot of character, as opposed to some of the ugly, characterless suburbs that have grown up around Denver (and I won't even mention Aurora and Lakewood as examples, just to be nice).

A Trip To Coors Field With Mark

I went with my friend Mark (seen in the photograph on the left) to watch the Colorado Rockies play the Los Angeles Dodgers last night at Coors Field here in Denver.  It was a nice evening, but the Rockies looked just horrible, making little league kind of errors and generally just stinking up the field.  They lost by a score of 12 to 6, and the game wasn't nearly as close as the score indicates.  I can understand why Mark was far more interested in talking about cricket instead of baseball during the evening.

The Dodgers are a very good team, of course - they have lots of money to spend, and were the National League Champions last year.  However, the Rockies are 3 and 7 this year, and have yet to win a game at Coors Field, which indicates that they have more problems than just facing a good team such as the Dodgers.  And speaking of the Dodgers, they can be seen in the photograph on the right figuring out their next moves during the game.

It was a nice evening however, fairly warm for April here in Denver, and we definitely got our money's worth, since the game lasted 4 hours. It takes a long time to rack up a combined 18 runs, especially at Coors Field.  And is this just a bump in the road for the Rockies? Will they come back strong as the season goes on?  Beats me.  I also can't help but note that the Chicago White Sox, my south side heros, are currently 3 and 5, and the Chicago Cubs are 2 and 7.  In other words, all the teams I follow are doing poorly.  Could it be me? Am I a jinx? Probably.

Masonville

I take my sister Susan to the Fort Collins library once or twice a week, and while waiting for her, I pick up some of the free local papers to read, such as The Senior Voice, which is published monthly and has a lot of articles about the history of Northern Colorado (referred to as NoCo, of course). The April issue features an article about the town of Masonville, just a little to the southwest of Fort Collins up in the foothills, which was settled by ranchers in the 1860s.  A man named James Mason arrived in 1885, started a ranch, and then opened the Masonville General Store in 1896, which is still open to this day.  After I read the article, and since we had some time to spare, we drove up there to check it out.  I took the photograph on the left of what is now called the Masonville Mercantile, and showed it to my sister.  She demanded to know why that "intrusive face" was in the picture? Enough said.

The Masonville area is still mainly made up of ranches, and there are a lot of Hereford cattle up there, as well as herds of deer.  But no moose, damn it to hell.  There also seems to be a number of new homes in the area these days, not doubt people who commute to Fort Collins, but who want to live in a mountain environment.  Good luck to them in the wintertime, I say.  In front of the general store is a fairly large size park, with a number of historical artifacts, including the coffin on a wagon seen in the photograph on the right.  On the coffin it says " Here Lies Less More, He Robbed the Masonville Store, died from two slugs from a .44, No  Less, No More." Personally, I don't believe a body is in there. Although there was an attempt to rob the store that was foiled by a clerk with a shotgun, it was never known if one of the robbers was hit.  Plus, it all rhymes too perfectly.

As I was about to drive away, my sister asked if I had taken a photograph of the horse statues, which I had not.  I got out of the car and took the photograph on the left, which also shows a bit of what the countryside looks  like.  It is nice to know that there are still areas like this which keep the traditions of the west alive, and are only a short drive from urban areas, where we are all about modern living, what with traffic, cell phones, computers, Amazon, Donald Trump, etc. etc. It is much too rural a lifestyle for me, but it is nice to be able to visit.  My only suggestion is that the city fathers, if that's what they call them out there, add a few herds of moose.

Opening Day 2019...

Yesterday was the home opener for both the Colorado Rockies here in Denver and the Chicago White Sox, my south side heros, back in Chicago. As I did last year, I elected not to attend the Rockies game, and used that money instead for a subscription to MLB.com so that I can watch every White Sox (and in a pinch, Chicago Cubs) game this season.  And yesterday I did just that.  I took the light rail train down to Coors Field, walked around the neighborhood soaking up the party atmosphere, then went home and watched the end of the White Sox game on my computer, and later that night the Cubs game.  The Rockies lost big time, by the way, as did the Cubs, but the White Sox won a very exciting contest back at Comiskey Park, or wherever they play these days.

As can be seen from the photographs, a lot of people anted up over a hundred - perhaps even hundreds - of dollars to attend this game, although I did hear a few people say they could not afford to go, and were just walking around the area for the fun of it.  What I found truly amazing was the size of the crowd in the streets and on the rooftop bars after the game started. Last year it was 27 degrees in Denver at the time of the first pitch, but this year it was 70 degrees, and the millennials were in full party mode.  To them it wasn't about baseball. It was just another holiday to celebrate at the bars in Lower Downtown Denver (LoDo), just like on St. Patrick's Day, Halloween, or the installation of a new pope, etc.

Happy Opening Day!

Today is Opening Day, the day the Colorado Rockies play their first baseball game of the season at Coors Field here in Denver.  I intend to head downtown this afternoon to enjoy the party atmosphere outside the park, but since I refuse to pay $120 for a seat that will cost $20 tomorrow, won't attend the game. The Chicago White Sox, my south side heros, postponed their game yesterday, and will have Opening Day today, too.   In honor of that, I am featuring the above photograph of, from left to right, legendary Chicago White Sox player Shoeless Joe Jackson, former team owner Bill Veeck, and Chicago White Sox television broadcaster Harry Caray, posing in front of the Comiskey Park scoreboard (I took the photos of the scoreboard and Harry back in 1980, by the way).  The north side Chicago Cubs (who have started the year 1 and 5 - not a good sign) will have their Opening Day Monday. Enjoy the season everybody!

It's April - Can Summer Be Far Behind?

After a fairly intense winter, spring has arrived, and everyone is anxiously awaiting summer.  I myself have always loved summer, and distinctly remember sitting in my classroom in early June at Fort Dearborn Grammar School - in the south side Brainerd neighborhood of Chicago - waiting for the end of school.  And summer means vacation time, which for our family meant 2 weeks at a resort in Canada.  Before I was born, my family and my Uncle Bill's (my mother's brother) family would go to a resort called Britannia, located on the Lake of Bays in Ontario. When it got too pricey, they next went to a place called Lumina in the same area, where the picture on the left was taken back in 1955. It is one of only two photographs taken of the whole family at the same time that I can find.  What's the deal with that?  In any case, from left to right are me, at my charming best, my father Nelson, my sister Susan, and my mother Mary, enjoying the Canadian sunshine, which as I recall sometimes never materialized at all during the trip. And amazingly enough, of the three Ontario resorts our family vacationed at - Britannia and Lumina on the Lake of Bays and Torpitt Lodge on Sparrow Lake - Lumina actually still exists. You can fact-check me on this by going to their website at https://luminaresort.com/.  And if you decide to visit, be sure to bring your umbrella, just in case.

Moose Musings...

I picked up the latest copy of Fort Collins Magazine the other day, and the main story was about the resurgence of the moose population here in Colorado.  The article implies that moose are thriving in this state, so much so that it is causing major problems. Reading this article, you get the impression that people are encountering moose on every street corner, and Colorado residents are in danger of being attacked by hostile mooses 24/7.  Which I find very curious, since I have traveled all over this state looking for just one single damn moose I could photograph, and coming up empty every time.  I personally believe that there are no moose here at all - it is just a con job by the state tourism board.  And if you google moose in Colorado on the internet, you find plenty of people who have also never seen a live moose in this state.  Trust me, it's all a crock.

Watching Soccer With the Colorado Hotspurs

My friend Mark (seen in the photograph above) and I went to Esters Neighborhood Pub this past Sunday morning to watch a soccer match between the Tottenham Hotspurs and Liverpool.  The game started at a fairly reasonably hour (9:30 A.M. Denver time)  and so we had no problem meeting up with the local Tottenham fan club.  They are a friendly group, very welcoming to everyone (unless you root for the opposing team, of course), and I am always amazed at how many people show up to watch these games. The remaining contests will be starting at 5:30 A.M. here in Colorado, and I must confess that I have no intention of showing up at that hour to watch a soccer game, or for that matter a baseball game, either.  And by the way, Liverpool won 2 to 1, a crushing blow to the fans at Esters.  Cheer up, guys - it's just a soccer game, after all.

The Arts District

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, I decided to visit a few more art galleries this past Saturday to take advantage of the final weekend of Denver's Month of Photography, despite the fact that it was cold as hell outside.  One of places I visited was the Michael Warren Gallery, located on Santa Fe Boulevard in the heart of Denver's Arts District.  On the way to that art gallery and on the way back, I took a number of photographs that can be seen in the above collage.  I think it shows what a very colorful neighborhood this has become, and how the arts - every kind of art -  has impacted and enhanced this area. Is that a great thing or what?