The Quest For Wildlife In Colorado Continues...

OK. I have to admit that finding wildlife in Colorado is not my strong suit. I have been searching for moose in this state, without success, for years, even though an article in NOCO Magazine says that moose are now so prevalent in this state that they have become a danger to Colorado residents.  In the 39 years I have lived here, I have yet to see a bear, even though they are featured almost nightly on the local news foraging through garbage and hanging out in trees in many Denver suburbs.  And so the best I can do this week is a photograph of a squirrel having lunch in Fort Collin's City Park.  But in my defense, squirrels are technically wildlife. And this squirrel could very well have charged me if I wasn't careful. After all, everyone remembers that killer rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, right?

The White Sox Are In The Playoffs!

My Southside heros, the Chicago White Sox, are in the playoffs for the first time in many years, and today start a three game wildcard series against the Oakland A's. The Chicago Cubs, the city's Northside baseball club, also made the playoffs. I watched those two teams face each other in the final three games of the season on MLB.com this past weekend.  The games were held at Guaranteed Rate Field, which has been home to the White Sox ever since they tore down Comiskey Park, a disgraceful act that I will not rant about - at least not now. In any case, the White Sox were blown out in the first game by a score of 12 to nothing, won the second game 9 to 5, and were down 10 to 1 Sunday before coming back in the 8th inning and almost winning the game. I was hoping to use the excuse of watching that first playoff game as the reason for not tuning in to the first debate between Joe Biden and Donald Trump. However, it is an afternoon game, and so I will now have to think up a different excuse. Being captured by aliens? Very plausible. Especially these days.

Watching Tottenham Play Newcastle With Mark

My friend Mark (seen in the above photograph on the right) and I took a virtual trip to Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London yesterday afternoon to watch the Tottenham Hotspurs play Newcastle United. The Hotspurs led by a score of 1 to nothing until the final minutes of the game, when Newcastle tied it up with a penalty kick, which is how it ended. The last time Mark and I watched those two teams play was with the Colorado Hot Spurs, the local Tottenham fan club, at Esters Neighborhood Pub here in Denver. Mark is a Newcastle fan, and proudly wore his Newcastle jersey to the pub that day. There are usually about 80 Hot Spurs fans attending those games, but I am happy to report that there were no ugly incidents. If it were me, they probably would have beat me senseless. And by the way, A1A sponsors Tottenham, which is why it is featured on the jersey I am wearing in the photo. And as all Floridians and many tourists know, A1A is the Florida State highway that runs along the Atlantic ocean from Key West to the Florida Georgia line. No doubt it sponsors Tottenham because so many Brits must move to Florida to escape their Godawful weather.

Remembering Elburn Illinois

My sister Susan recently asked me if I had any photographs of her and her late husband George's first home, an old farmhouse located in the little town of Elburn, Illinois. After George got a job as a salesman with Wesco, the industrial supply branch of Westinghouse Electric, they bought a house in Elburn, about 10 miles west of Geneva, Illinois, which itself is about 30 miles west of downtown Chicago. The photo on the left not only features that house, but also my mother Mary and father Nelson posing in front of it. At that time, Elburn was a small farm town, and the next door neighbors kept chickens and a rooster, which to Susan's delight crowed every morning at dawn. Elburn also had a slaughterhouse, and when the wind was right, it made the neighborhood quite fragrant. Susan was very proud of that house, and was so obsessed with keeping it clean that she made my father fry bacon for breakfast in the unheated utility room, which was quite nippy during the winter. She would also tend to vacuum up crumbs under the dining room table while my father was still sitting there. He would simply kick at it, and tell her to go away. Very little fazed him. George's father Elmer also visited Susan and George there, and told them that the house was "really far out." And I don't think he was using that old 1960s expression, either. As I understand it, the town is now just another suburb of Chicago, and the farmland between Elburn and Geneva is now nothing but suburban tract homes. Progress.

Squeeze Me

I just finished reading Squeeze Me, Carl Hiassen's latest farcical Florida adventure. Hiassen is a columnist for the Miami Herald, and a native Floridian. For many years, he has railed against developers and politicians who have allowed so much of the state to be paved over, and many of his books focus on that theme. This time the story centers around the society crowd in Palm Beach, and features a truly out of control president and his first lady, who own and often stay at an exclusive club there. Sounds like a pretty farfetched idea to me, but I digress. The trouble starts at a nearby mansion that is hosting a charity event, where a wealthy society matron takes walk on the grounds and is eaten by a giant python. This horrendous event is covered up, but an illegal immigrant is accused by the president of murdering the woman, who was a member of a local fan club supporting the president. Pretty soon other pythons show up, too, and it soon becomes clear it is not just coincidence. This is a fun read, and I definitely recommend it. However, I get the feeling that Hiassen is not much of a fan of the current president. Go figure.

A Mellow Afternoon In Washington Park

I took the above photograph at Denver's Washington Park the other day as I was coming home from a long bike ride.  All was serene, unlike last spring, when the pandemic forced everything to close, and most of the population of Denver started hanging out there. Happily, these days, the weekday crowd is back to mothers with strollers and retirees getting their daily exercise.  The Washington Park Boathouse can be seen in the background of this photo. This historic structure is owned by the City and County of Denver, which rents it out for various events. I have suggested to my friends Wally and Linda that they recommend the place to their son Peter and fiancee Holly for their wedding reception next summer, since it is an open air facility and will help keep wedding guests from dropping dead from the coronavirus, assuming Covid-19 is still an issue next year. Plus, since I live only a short distance away, it will be much easier for me to crash the event. Do people still crash weddings? That's what I thought. The lure of an open bar is still very strong, especially these days.

Early Fall At The Zoo Part II

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, I went to the Denver Zoo this past Tuesday to take a few photographs. Since it was pretty hot and sunny, most of the animals were snoozing in the shade. One exception was the jaguar, who was in a shady spot on top of an outside shelter, but was gazing right at me. This creature always looks me right in the eye whenever I take it's photograph. Now those are the kind of animals the Denver Zoo should have more of. And by the way, what ever happened to petting zoos? I'd like to thank that jaguar in person.

On the other hand, those damn lions, including the two lion cubs, were sound asleep. Tobias, the father of those two cubs, can be seen in the photo on the right, dead to the world, no doubt until suppertime. Hopefully, once the weather turns cooler, they will be a bit more active. This is exactly why the zoo needs to have an intern go into those cages with a big stick and get them all moving around. I keep suggesting it, but zoo officials just ignore me. How insulting.

I also have a complaint - surprise - about the gorillas at the Denver Zoo. Not too long ago, a baby gorilla was born there, and not too much later they moved the entire family to a different zoo, long before I was finished taking photographs of it. They still have some gorillas around, such as the silverback in the photograph on the left, but it is just not the same.  Granted, this silverback does look like it has a lot of piss and vinegar, which always makes for good photos, but it just does not have the cuteness factor of that baby. Bringing up a recurrent theme of mine, I wonder how much money you would have to pay a zoo intern to go into that particular compound and coax that gorilla into being a bit more lively? The photographic result, I have to say, would be priceless.

Strangely enough, almost all the elephants at the Toyota Elephant Passage were huddled together Tuesday afternoon, as seen in the photo on the right, which is the first time I have ever witnessed something like that. Most of the time, they are wandering around by themselves, lost in their own thoughts (is it dinner time yet?), and so I had to wonder, what were they planning? Storming the gates and making their escape? Now that would make a great photograph, especially if you were standing in front of them when they charged. And would I really do that if I had the chance? I'll take the fifth on that one.

Early Fall At The Zoo

I went to the Denver Zoo yesterday to take a few photographs, hoping that it would either be an overcast or cooler day, so that the animals would be out and about, and not lying far away in the shade. Unfortunately, it turned out to be both hot and sunny, which made the day a lot more challenging. I took the photograph on the left of the baby orangutan inside it's air conditioned compound - hoping, with no luck - to find food in that yellow bowl. This baby is in constant motion, climbing up and down and all around, and so I always find it difficult to get a good shot, especially with the limited light inside. I suspect I need to invest in some better photographic equipment, but - follow me closely here - that would take money. Perhaps I should set up a "go fund me" web page. That should work.

Happily, the baby zebra was out and about, although it is hard to tell it is still a baby unless you compare it with an adult. In any case, for some reason, it seemed to be licking the wire surrounding it's compound, as seen in the photograph on the right. Just before I took this photo, I was listening to a zoo volunteer talking to a group and telling them how smart giraffes are. I have a sneaking suspicion you can't say the same thing about zebras.

As for the mandrills, they were all outside, but the baby mandrill and it's mother were sitting in the shade in the far corner of their compound, and for some reason the baby clung to it's mother the entire time I was there. I came back during a second loop around the zoo, and they were still in the same position, as seen in the photograph on the left. What is the poor thing afraid of? Zoo visitors? Very likely. After all, the Denver Zoo got rid of all their peacocks, which have been there practically since the zoo was founded. And why? Because zoo visitors - mainly children whose parent's are evidently unable or unwilling to control them - couldn't resist chasing them around the grounds. Why didn't they just get rid of the children instead? And once again, I realize that I am sounding more and more like an old curmudgeon. Which everyone who knows me will verify is not true. I think.

The First Day Of Fall

Today is the first day of fall, and this past Sunday afternoon I decided to drive up the Mount Evans Scenic Bypass to Echo Lake, located about an hour west of Denver, to see if the colors had started to change yet. And as you can see in the photo on the left, they definitely have. It seems pretty early for the color change, but the weather people say that it is due to the severe drought conditions.  Plus, Echo Lake is located at an elevation of 10,600 feet, which also has a lot to do with it. It was even jacket weather up there, although once I started hiking the Echo Lake trail, I got pretty warm pretty fast.

On the way back down the mountain, I stopped and took the photograph on the right, which shows that the colors were changing at lower altitudes, too. Heading back to Idaho Springs and the interstate back to Denver, I took notice of all the houses and cabins that lined the road after leaving the national forest. All were pretty modest. Some looked nice, and some not so much, many of them places that I would not enjoy spending the winter. Since there was a "private property" sign on the fence seen in the photo, I decided to skip driving down the road to take a look at their house. Years ago, I took this same drive with my mother Mary. I thought I was giving her a treat, but after a while she asked me when we were finally going to get out of all this horrible wilderness. Coming from Chicago, I think she much preferred cities and sidewalks to the great outdoors. As my father Nelson once said during a trip to Colorado, "if you've seen one mountain, you've seen them all."

Back In The Saddle Again!

This past weekend, I decided to go biking for the first time in about 6 weeks. I had a biking accident at the beginning of August, with major dental implications, and decided to take a break from riding for a while. I finally decided it was time to venture out once again, and had a really nice time, biking from my condo near the University of Denver to Sloan's Lake and back. I am looking at my accident as a warning - it could have been my brain that hit that steel grate, after all. And, as you can see in the photo on the left, I am now wearing a helmet when I ride. It turns out that I might not be immortal after all.

Along the way on my ride, I visited Larimer Square (seen in the photo on the right), which is currently closed to traffic in order to allow more outside space for restaurants, and found that there were a fair number of people there. Everyone seems to be okay with eating at restaurants here in Colorado, as long as they can be outside. The nice weather should last for another couple of months, but after that, one has to wonder if these restaurants will still attract all that many customers. And survive over the winter.

Another place that seems to be doing well is the Briar Common Brewery. Back in March, right after all restaurants were closed down except for takeout, I was walking past this brew pub and noticed a sign saying that all their beer was on sale. I went inside, and bought two crowlers, which before that day I had never heard of (they are sealed, 32 ounce cans of beer poured from the tap). I was the only customer in the place, and I wondered how in the world they were going to survive. But survive they did, and as I biked past I could see that people were once again hanging out on their rooftop patio, as seen in the photo on the left. Good for them.

More South Side Chicago Nostalgia

Today I am featuring a couple of photographs from the South Side Brainerd neighborhood of Chicago, where I grew up. The one on the left shows me on my tricycle, posing with my Grandfather Hoyt on the sidewalk in front of our house. I have always enjoyed bicycling, even at a young age, although after a recent bike accident and resulting dental issues, I have realized that everything does have a price. Perhaps wearing a helmet actually does make sense. But I digress. What strikes me most about this photograph is the car in the background. It looks ancient to me - which perhaps means that I am ancient, too. The mind boggles.

The photograph on the right is of my mother Mary, sitting on the railing of our house at 9314 South Aberdeen Street. My mother just loved that place, and hated to leave it even to go on vacation. I suspect one of the reasons for this was because after World War II, my father Nelson came home from Okinawa and he, my mother, and sister Susan lived with my mother's parents for a while (Susan is not sure if it was one year or two), until they bought the house on Aberdeen Street. I think my mother was just very happy to finally have a place of their own. Susan, on the other hand, loved living with our grandparents. However, I have heard stories that make it sound like she was quite a handful when she was young, making life exciting for my Grandmother and Grandfather Spillard, especially her fondness for walking around the neighborhood with her friend Janet without either of them wearing a stitch of clothing. Pretending that she was locked in the bathroom, forcing my grandfather to get a ladder and attempt to rescue her, was also quite a family legend, too. Like I said, quite a handful. 

When Old Midnight Comes Along

I just finished When Old Midnight Comes Along, Loren Estleman's latest Amos Walker private detective mystery. The novels take place in Detroit, and are written in an old fashioned, hardboiled style. So hardboiled, I sometimes don't understand what some expressions mean. However, Estleman writes a good mystery, and this one is no exception. This time, Walker is hired by a client to investigate his wife's disappearance 7 years earlier. The client wants to remarry, assumes his missing wife is dead, and wants Walker to prove it. As usual, the case is much more complicated that it first appears, and includes crooked cops, blackmail, and ex-gangbangers. I heartily recommend it if you like fast-paced detective novels, not to mention Detroit, which is right across the river from Canada. What could be better?

Another Chicago Flashback

I took the above photograph of Daley Plaza and it's famous Picasso statue, located just adjacent to the Richard J. Daley Center, back in 1971. The Daley Center houses offices and courtrooms for the Cook County Circuit Courts, and several times I have reported for jury duty there when I lived in Chicago. One time, I was picked to serve on a vote fraud case (it was Chicago, after all). The jury could not reach a decision, and so we were sequestered overnight at the Holiday Inn of Skid Row. I have happy memories of looking at the stares of the other guests as we got off the sheriff's bus, no doubt wondering if they wanted to stay in the same hotel with 12 obviously depraved prisoners. Another time, I almost wound up in The Blue's Brothers movie while walking across Daley Plaza. It was early one Sunday morning, and I was minding my own business when someone started screaming at me to get off the set. I guess they didn't want any locals in the movie, the SOBs. For God's sake, I am a Chicagoan! Damn those Hollywood types.

Denver Is Not Paris, And Other Sad Facts Of Life

Don't get me wrong - Denver is a very nice city, with lots of parks and bike trails, a vibrant downtown, and many pleasant neighborhoods. However, given a choice, I would much rather be in Paris. My sister Susan and I visited there last year, and it is a marvelous place to walk and just hang out. However, actually living there would be problematic for all but the wealthy. Aziz, a former University of Denver colleague, once lived there, but had to have about 6 roommates to afford it. He told me because of that, he much preferred Denver. I took the photo on the left, by the way, on the Ile Saint-Louis, probably one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Paris. On an episode of Rick Steves' Europe, a tour guide was taking Rick around the island, and said that if he could afford to live there, he definitely would. And who in their right mind wouldn't?

I took the photograph on the right at a small neighborhood park not far from Rue Cler, a market street near where our hotel was located. This is one of the nicest neighborhoods in Paris. Rue Cler is pedestrian only, and filled with a variety of shops and inviting cafes. What a pleasure to be able to live on this street, and be able to walk out of your apartment each day to do your daily shopping, and have a drink in one the sidewalk cafes afterwards. My sister tells me she would like to visit Rue Cler again on her 80th birthday, which is still several years away. Of course, her birthday is in January, and so I imagine that it might be a bit nippy drinking wine out in the elements. However, on the plus side, the museums would definitely be less crowded. Upsides and downsides, like so much of life.

Hanging Out At Qdoba And Bonnie Brae With Stuart

I spent Tuesday afternoon with my friend Stuart at Qdoba Mexican Eats for an early dinner and Bonnie Brae Ice Cream - a famous Denver landmark - for dessert. As we were leaving Bonnie Brae, I took the above photograph of Stuart, looking like he was about to knock off a 7-Eleven. Of course, thanks to the coronavirus, you could say that about almost everyone these days. I think it would be especially unnerving to work at a bank during this pandemic, since everybody who comes into the place looks like a suspicious character. Perhaps tellers should get hazard pay, too. Just a thought.

The September Mutt Of The Month

I took the above photograph of the September Mutt of the Month outside the front entrance of South Mesa Veterinary Hospital up in Fort Collins, where my sister Susan, her dog Blackberry, and I were waiting for the vet to finish a routine follow-up examine on her other dog, Tutu, who recently had a tooth removed. Due to the coronavirus, the vets prefer to have people wait outside while they look at the animals, which is okay with me, since I can still photograph the dogs going in and out, such as my friend in the photo. Just as an FYI, veterinarians charge a fortune these days, even more than regular doctors. And people are so emotionally attached to their pets, they will pay almost anything to keep them healthy. How much is too much to save your animal's life? Still another good reason not to own a pet.

Watching Korean Baseball With Mark

I went over to my friend Mark's house yesterday afternoon to watch a prerecorded Korean League baseball game between the KIA Tigers and Samsung Lions. The games take place very early in the morning here in the US, and are broadcast on ESPN by announcers also watching the action on TV. Before the game, we walked over to pick up lunch at a fast food chain called Freddy's, which is known for it's steakburgers. I took the photograph on the left of Mark while we had lunch in his backyard. And how was the food? As far as I can tell, steakburgers are just hamburgers by a different name. They were OK. High praise from me.

And how was the baseball game? The KIA Tigers beat the Samsung Lions by a score of 6 to nothing, and it was not even as close a game as it sounds. And yes, Korean baseball teams are all owned by corporations, and they are identified by their corporate names instead of their home city, which I personally think is beyond weird. Also weird is the fact that the Denver Police were parked right out in front of Mark's place for part of the afternoon, and he tells me they have done so several other times, as well. Are Mark and his brother the subject of a stakeout? Mark insists they have done nothing wrong. Are the cops there just to consume donuts and check their e-mail? Next time I think Mark should just go across the street and demand answers. What could go wrong?

Street Music

I just finished reading Street Music, Timothy Hallinan's final book in his Poke Rafferty adventure series. These novels features Poke Rafferty, a travel writer living in Bangkok, Thailand, who, with his wife Rose - a former bar girl - adopt a young child named Miaow, who was abandoned on the streets by her mother at the age of 5. Rafferty always winds up getting involved in all kinds of trouble, and this time is no exception. After 10 years, Miaow's mother, Hon, a street person herself, reappears, forced by a gangster to try and extort money from Rafferty. It is an exciting story, although there is a long section on Hon's life, focusing on why she abandoned Miaow, that is pretty damned depressing. Rafferty did the same thing in another book, where he had an extensive section on his wife Rose's difficult life before meeting him. Both of these episodes describe what life is like in rural northeast Thailand, and how young girls from there often wind up in Bangkok - either voluntarily or sold by their families for cash - where they are victimized and exploited. Rafferty clearly paints a portrait of a fascinating, but not very nice city. But still, I strongly recommend this book, as well as the rest of the series. The underlying story of the family that was created out of such adversity is truly heartwarming.

Burgers And Beers With Wally At Spanky's

I got together yesterday afternoon with Wally - my friend and former University of Denver Bookstore co-worker - for burgers and beers at Spanky's Urban Roadhouse. This place is just to the west of the DU campus, and fittingly, we were there the day before classes started for the fall quarter. Of course, that means classes were beginning on a Saturday - definitely unheard of at DU - and so naturally there were very few students around. No self-respecting DU student would ever go to class on a Saturday. I'm not even sure they will be there on Monday, either. In any case, Wally (seen in the photograph above) is doing well and this month is planning to visit a friend who owns a ranch near Red Lodge, Wyoming, which is located close to Yellowstone National Park. While there, they plan to drive to nearby Cooke City, where Ernest Hemingway spent five summers during the 1930s, hunting and fishing and hanging out with the locals. Wally tells me that several bars that Hemingway frequented up there are still around, and they plan to visit them all. Sounds like a plan to me. Have a great time, Wally!

La Fiesta De Santa Fe

This year, because of the coronavirus, La Fiesta de Santa Fe, traditionally held the weekend after Labor Day, will look a lot different. Not surprisingly, all public events have been canceled, including the arts and crafts festival in the Santa Fe Plaza and the Desfile de la Fiesta (aka the Historical/Hysterical parade). I took the photograph on the left of that parade when my sister Susan and I attended the fiesta back in 2018.  It was great fun visiting that beautiful and historic city, and I definitely want to go back for a long weekend. Unfortunately, New Mexico currently requires people (from the majority of the US) entering the state to self-quarantine for 14 days, which would make for a long, long stay at the Motel 6.

I took the photograph on the right on Sunday night, the last day of the 2018 festival. People were dancing in the streets in front of the Palace of the Governors, which was built sometime between 1610 and 1618. By that time, most of the tourists had left for home, and it was mainly locals in the plaza, making for a much less crowded atmosphere. As I recall, we had dinner that night at Maria's New Mexican Kitchen, which is the go-to place in Santa Fe for good, reasonably priced meals. I have to say, however, that after days of eating New Mexican cuisine, it was good to get home and eat something completely different for a change.

And what about this year? As I said, all public events have been canceled, but since the City Council of Santa Fe declared on September 16, 1712 that a fiesta must take place annually, some events will still be held, all of them religious in nature and requiring advance reservations. I myself will wait until next year, when hopefully this damnable virus will be history. And by the way, I took the photograph on the left under the eaves of the Palace of the Governors, showing spectators looking out at the festivities on the plaza, with Native Americans from the local pueblos selling their crafts and jewelry behind them, as they have done for many decades. Such a fascinating place - who can resist visiting, especially if you are just a 6 hour drive away, as we lucky Denverites are?

A Visit To The Snowy Range

Last Monday, my sister Susan, her dogs Tutu and Blackberry, and I drove from Fort Collins up to the Snowy Range, located in the Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest, just west of Laramie, Wyoming. Fort Collins was covered in smoke from the nearby Cameron Peak wildfire, so much so that the city seemed to be in either perpetual dusk or the middle of a total eclipse. It was good to get away and see some sunshine and blue sky for a while. Wyoming is very cow intensive, and between Laramie and the start of the mountains was nothing but rangeland infested with cattle. We were predicted to have snow and below freezing temperatures the next day, and Susan told me she hoped that all those thousands and thousands of cattle would be soon heading to their heated barns. She being an animal lover, I felt bad telling her that cattle stay out in the elements all year long, only leaving when sent to the slaughterhouse. In any case, we stopped at Brooklyn Lake, seen in the photograph above, where we took a short walk, and then headed back to Fort Collins, past all those cattle ranches. Wyoming's not called the Cowboy State for nothing. I probably don't have to tell you this, but DON'T move there.

The Zoo Part II

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, I visited what to me seemed like a packed Denver Zoo this past Sunday to take a few photographs. Some of the animals were inside to avoid the 97 degree heat, but most were out and about, especially the monkeys, one of which can be seen looking pretty transfixed in the photograph on the left. One of the other zoo guests was talking to it, and he or she really seemed to be relating to that woman. The zoo guest said she wanted to take the monkey out of it's cage and play, and that monkey seemed pretty up for it. Good luck making that happen, lady.

I also visited the baby mandrill, who seems to be as feisty as ever, running around like hell on wheels despite the heat. While I was there, the mandrills were herded inside, and a zoo employee went into the outside compound, threw treats all around, and then let the mandrills back out. I must say, that baby mandrill definitely got it's fair share, and more. Don't let that haunted look fool you. It's all an act. That little thing is as cunning as it comes.

Labor Day Weekend At The Zoo

I went to the Denver Zoo this past Sunday, and despite the need for a reserved time and limits on the number of zoo visitors, the place seemed packed. There were lines to see a lot of the animals, especially at the gorilla house, where all the orangutans were inside, preferring air conditioning to the 97 degree temperatures on the outside. Surprisingly, there were no lines to see the twin lion cubs Sunday. The first time I visited their compound, only one was outside, and sound asleep in the shade. On my second circumnavigation of the zoo, it was still in the exact same position, but at least it's eyes were open, and so I was able to snap the photograph on the left.

Happily, the tigers were much more lively and willing to have their photograph taken, despite the heat. I snapped the photograph on the right my second time around the zoo, the tiger smiling (I think) down on me from an upper perch in The Edge, which is what the tiger exhibit is called. Is it thinking "I like you," or "could this be dinner?" Either way, as long as it poses for the camera, I am good with it.

The Unofficial Last Day Of Summer

Today is Labor Day, the unofficial last day of summer.  Especially for people like me, who grew up in Chicago and had to return to school the very next day. To me, the last day of school each year was the happiest day of my life, and I just dreaded returning to the classroom on that horrible Tuesday morning. It was hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, my family and I had been vacationing up in Ontario, along with my Uncle Bill's family. My Uncle Bill was my mother's brother, and he and his family lived in Cleveland. Our family would drive to Canada from Chicago, and they would drive up from there. The first resort the two families stayed at was a really nice place on the Lake of Bays, called Britannia. When it became prohibitively expensive, they went to a resort called Lumina, on the same lake and which is actually still around. That is where the above photograph was taken, sometime in the mid 1950s. From left to right in the back row of the photograph is a person I don't know, then my Uncle Bill, and then myself, being held by my father Nelson. Sitting down in the front row are my cousin Linda, mother Mary, cousin Judy, Aunt Elsie, and my sister Susan. I had to crop this photograph quite a bit to better show everyone. The photographer seems to have taken this photo from quite a distance. I wonder what he or she was afraid of? Most likely my sister Susan. And I mean that with all due respect.

The 2020 Kentucky Derby

Yesterday the 2020 Kentucky Derby took place at Churchill Downs, in Louisville, Kentucky. Traditionally, this race takes place on the first Saturday of May, and was an event my family always watched on television, often inviting friends and relatives over to take part in a Kentucky Derby betting pool, each person putting in a few dollars and drawing the name of a horse or two out of a hat in an attempt to win the pot. This year, Authentic led the race from start to finish to beat heavily favored Tiz the Law. I myself went for a walk through downtown Denver yesterday afternoon to take advantage of the 100 degree temperatures, before a snowstorm (Yes! A snowstorm!) moves into the area on Tuesday. I got home the exact same time the race started, and was able to watch most of it live. Sadly, I did not have a bet on the winner. And no, I did not teleport myself to Churchill Downs for the race. Once again, the above photograph is thanks to the magic of Photoshop. And these days, it is the most magic I think we can hope for.

The Walk Down 17th Street

I decided to once again take the bus up University Boulevard to the Tattered Cover Bookstore - where I used to work as the bookkeeper - and from there walk downtown to Denver's Union Station and take the light rail train home. Ever since the coronavirus took hold, people have been saying that taking public transportation is a death sentence, which I found a bit off-putting. However, since I noticed that there are virtually no passengers anymore - I wonder why? - I decided to chance it. Since it has been 5 months since I last took this walk, there were a lot of changes. For one, a huge apartment building that has been under construction is now completed, and for the first time - possibly because of the new tenants there - I have seen customers actually sitting on the patio of Waffle Brothers, located right across the street. I also noticed a lot of other patios filled, too. The Millennials and Gen Xers are back in party mode!

People are even bringing their pets along again, as seen in the photograph on the right. For many years, 17th Street has been known as restaurant row, and virtually all of these places have patios where customers sit, eat, and people watch. Recently, the area has been gentrified - for better or worse - with hipsters moving into the neighborhood and new apartment buildings being built the entire length of the street. Ironically, just two blocks to the south, on Colfax, the streets are filled with homeless people. Each group sticks to their own street - their paths never seem to cross. What an amazing - and sad - contrast.

Big Trouble For Minor League Baseball

I just finished reading an article in the June issue of Sports Illustrated about the state of minor league baseball, and it is not good. Due to the coronavirus, the minor leagues are closed down this summer, and the revenue stream has stopped. How many teams will survive? This is important, considering how much these baseball clubs mean to the cities they play in, not to mention to all their faithful fans. Will major league baseball step up and help these clubs survive? Considering how the owners and players behaved while negotiating their 60 game season this year, I personally don't hold out much hope of them being charitable and giving up a single dollar. But I'm a cynic and an old curmudgeon these days, and so I could be wrong. But I doubt it. Goodbye Rocky Mountain Vibes!

The Night Train To Milan

When my sister Susan and I were in Europe last year, we took an overnight train trip from Paris to Florence, which was quite the adventure. The train was divided into 6 person compartments, and the seats folded into berths where you could sleep - if you could, that is. It was hot as hell in there, and it was decided that we should open the windows. However, if you did that, the sound of the train was very loud, and so we wound up dealing with the heat. One of the passengers had a cold I was worried about catching, and the wife of an American couple recounted the horror of having to watch an old Italian guy take off and put on his pants during the trip, being as she was on the lower berth. I don't think anybody slept - except me, of course - and everyone agreed that next time they would fly. I took the above photograph as we got off the train in Milan, and a few minutes later watched our connecting train to Florence pull out of the station. Those trains really do run on time, damn that Mussolini. You can never pay too much for fun like that, as we cheapskates like to say.

Walking Through A Vibrant College Neighborhood

I had a few hours to kill up in Fort Collins Monday afternoon, and decided to walk around the area across the street from Colorado State University. Now that CSU students are back on campus, this area - located around College and Laurel Streets - is hopping, with restaurants and cafes doing a very good business.  I was especially taken with the alley in the photograph above, which is now a pedestrian only walkway with retail businesses as well as green space. Sadly, I noticed that the Rams Bookstore, at 130 West Laurel, has closed after serving the community for over 50 years. It was an independent operation, but carried textbooks, school supplies, and CSU apparel and gifts. Like the University of Denver Bookstore, where I worked for almost 30 years, the textbook business has taken quite a hit because of the internet, and operations like this now struggle to survive. Ordering over the internet may be cheaper and easier, but because of this, we are losing something very special.

The Warsaw Protocol

I just finished reading The Warsaw Protocol, Steve Berry's latest Cotton Malone spy novel. A while back, I put in hold requests at the Denver Public Library for 10 new books by some of my favorite authors, and 4 of them recently turned up at the same time, requiring me to pick up the pace of my reading, which is normally pretty pokey. Which is why I finished the Warsaw Protocol at record speed. This time Malone finds himself dragged into an auction, attended by representatives of 6 nations, offering blackmail material on the Polish president, who is refusing to allow an American missile base to be located in Poland. If the United States gets this material, it can force the Polish president to allow those missiles, putting Poland in Russia's cross-hairs. I enjoyed this book very much, and found the ending especially exciting. In some of his recent books, Berry has let his conservative viewpoints come through, which I have found a bit off-putting, and so was surprised to find a harsh narrative describing a thinly veiled Trump administration. I strongly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys reading international thrillers. Just as long as you are not a Trump supporter, of course. And by the way, today is the 81st anniversary of Germany's invasion of Poland, which was the start of World War II. How timely is that?