Watch the Skies

It wouldn't be a trip back to Colorado without sky shots.




What a great state. Seeya next time, Colorado.

A Few Of My Favorite Things (Boulder Style)

Depart tomorrow, to my chagrin. It's been a fantastic trip.

Just a few of my favorite things about Boulder:

La Estrellita Chili



As I've mentioned before, I love green chili, but suck at making it. As I apparently haven't mentioned before, finding good green chili in Atlanta is more-or-less impossible. I've yet to find any, store-bought or restaurant. So I cast my net homeward.

La Estrellita used to be my favorite Boulder restaurant, before closing its location out here, which dimmed my enthusiasm. The old location's been cursed since -- it was a nightclub, then a library-themed pub, and now it's this:



(A ghost sign on the side is visible back here, sixth pic down.) Thankfully, while it's not running in Boulder, La Estrellita still has locations elsewhere and its chili is still available in King Soopers grocery stores. A couple jars of this and cooking at home improves a lot.

On the chili front, I also must praise the Village Coffee Shop, which has been around Boulder forever but I've been to about twice. Dad and I went this morning for their breakfast burrito and I hereby pronounce it legendary. Sadly, their green chili isn't for sale in jars, so that's one more reason to move back.

The Walnut Brewery


Previously wrote about it here; I've been in a rut for a few years now where I only drink the St. James Red, but the others are (as I recall) fantastic. Pretty good food too.

The Boulder Book Store



My all-time favorite bookstore, I'm always relieved to come back and see it still going strong. It fended off a Borders that went in a bit down Pearl (the Borders later moved), and no matter how many times I tell myself "no more books" I end up dropping $40 at the BBS each time I visit. Added bonus: a cool coffee shop attached to it. If you ever are at the Boulder Book Store and there isn't an old hippie playing acoustic guitar right outside, you get an elusive square in Boulder Bingo. As seen above, I didn't get it.

Juanita's Bumper Stickers



The Book Worm


The Boulder Book Store is my favorite new bookstore, the Book Worm my favorite used place. It's in an unassuming little building off 28th and has one of the best contemporary fiction sections I've seen in a used bookstore. I guess Boulder readers have better taste. Or perhaps worse, since they're getting rid of the stuff I like.

Boulder Public Library


As is probably easy to imagine, I hung out at the library a lot as a kid. Back then, the main library was a large atrium, with the second story above packed with every book known to man. Well, not quite, but I was impressed. Now, it's radically reorganized from my childhood, but I still love it. It's a peaceful place. I realized on this trip that when I read about libraries -- in "Gold Bug Variations," say -- I picture Boulder's. It's appeared in dreams, too.


Not certain, but perhaps I'm not the only person who feels that way. I seem to recall that Stephen King based the description of a library in "It" on the Boulder Public Library building. But I can't find any backing for that on the internet, and I haven't read "It" in 20 years, so perhaps I imagined it.

A couple library memories: spending 12 hours gorging myself on peanuts and apples at a fifth grade sleepover, then going straight to the library with my mother after she picked me up. With my stomach not feeling too great, I made a beeline for the library bathroom, but the lone stall was occupied -- so I threw up copiously in a urinal. As I went at it, a homeless guy strolled out of that stall, and confronted with the image of me with face in urinal, started laughing uproariously.

Also, I checked out a Thomas Boswell baseball book in 1989, and then had it slip into my stuff as we moved to Arizona. When I moved back in 1996, I sheepishly dropped it into the book return. I still feel kinda guilty about that.

* * *


Went to my first Colorado Rapids game while I was out here, and really enjoyed the experience. Perhaps it was the perfect weather, but Dick's Sporting Goods Park, aside from the nightmare of a name, is a good setting. Low-slung stadium with no other large buildings around, so the sky (that sky again) is all you see beyond the stadium. It was a pretty great game, and Rapids defender Kosuke Kimura established himself as a favorite for both me and my sister with insane hustle and the lone goal. The fan base is both laid-back and knowledgeable and the tickets are cheap. If/when I come back, I'll be a regular.

The Post-Pessimist Association and the Mystery of Lost Lake

"Lost Lake" -- sounds like there should have been a Hardy Boys mystery set there. There's no real mystery to it, though, and it's not exactly lost. I mean, I made it there and I'm not Magellan.

Very nice hike, though, particularly after I packed in yesterday's hike up Mount Sanitas on account of pounding heart. This one was a little less straight up and a bit more shaded.

Photos? Why, yes:


The hike's in the Indian Peaks area, near the ghost town of Hessie (really ghostly: I think there's nothing left, other than a sign sayingsomething to the effect of "Hessie was around here once"). The above is the road into (and out of) Hessie. You can see why it didn't really make it as a town.


Ended up wrestling three of 'em.


I thought these trees looked really cool, until I found out that they've been destroyed by pine beetles and are now just husks waiting for a timely lightning strike to send the whole area up in flames. Great.


And flowers! My budding career as a nature photographer is now in effect.


Sure is a pretty state. At this point, attempts at witty commentary end and it's pics only.

Joe It Goes

So vacation, and for once I have stuff to write about, but also a lack of inclination/desire/time. Oh well. A couple hockey things:



I'm glad I was back in Colorado to watch Joe Sakic's retirement ceremony yesterday. The realistic part of me knows it's for the best. The fan in me wanted him to go on forever.

I'm not much for hagiography but it was a pleasure to watch the guy play over the years. At my job (bear with me) there's a couple guys that I've known over the years that simply improve things by their presence; they're calming influences even when they aren't involved. The Elk calls them "visual valium." Sakic was like that -- seeing him on the ice, everything seemed okay.

* * *

Other hockey notes: I was concerned about the lack of news on Tomáš Klouček, but apparently he's signed with Barys Astana for another year, so that's all right. And not sure how this slipped by me, but while HC Kometa Brno failed to earn promotion to the Extraliga this past season, I guess they've been promoted anyhow. They're going in through the back door -- apparently HC Znojmo ran into financial trouble or didn't pay their dues or something like that, so they get bounced down and Kometa moves up, and gets a lot of the good Znojmo players in the process (among them Jiri Dopita, a bust in the NHL but a badass over in the Czech Rep). So perhaps not the preferred method, but hey, Kometa's in the top league! The PPA gets results!

Emotional Archaeology

Two storefronts that had a great impact on me once upon a time, now being used for other purposes:



Back in the '80s, this was Time Warp Comics, site of my first "job" (I was paid in comics -- at age 13 that was all I needed) and most of my adolescent energies. My friend Andy and I were allowed to come in and make sure everything was kept stocked. It may have just been that we were already around all the time on weekends, so why not?

The store held legendary auctions, which were the highlights for me: twelve-hour days, a packed store, really hard-to-find items (pre-internet) up for sale. I got the old Keith Giffen Legion of Super-Heroes poster at one of those. Probably one of the best moments of my early teenage years.

Time Warp moved shortly after I did; after a few subsequent moves, it's apparently still around in north Boulder (and here it is). The Beat Book Shop is now in the space at 1717 Pearl. I'm pretty sure it's been there since Time Warp vacated. I'm not a Kerouac fan but the Beat is one of those places that I'm happy to see living on in Boulder, particularly on Pearl's East End, which is unrecognizable from the late '90s, much less my childhood.



This is the former office of the Boulder Planet, a space that has gone through several changes since the Planet departed this planet: a drum store, a medieval clothing store, and a general store. Since bongos and Renaissance Faires are two of my least favorite things, I'm glad to see it's now something considerably more appropriate: a bar. It wasn't open yet when I walked by yesterday, so I just peeked through the windows. It's all still recognizable -- hey, that's where I sat. That's where so-and-so was. I remember the desk there. Etc. It might be a bit weird to go in and drink in there. Lots of memories and emotions still tied to the place. But I'm glad to see it's being put to more noble purposes. If you're in town, it's George's, so go by and tell them that you read some thing by a guy who worked in the office there once. I'm sure they'll be ecstatic.

* * *

I do read on vacation...

#46 -- "Garden, Ashes" by Danilo Kis

#47 -- "The Year of Living Biblically" by A.J. Jacobs

...and I'll write more about them later.

The Green Hills of Boulder

That's the scene from my parents' back porch, and it's not a normal one in Colorado in July. Over the last decade plus, it's generally been pretty dry here, but this year it's rain, rain, rain and as a result the place is lousy with hues of emerald more frequently associated with Dublin than with Denver.

I've done absolutely nothing other than hang out with the family, read, and drink beer over the past couple days and that's how I like it. Weather's great, wish you were here, and I've got more than a week to go in town. The stress has just melted away.

Summer Doldrums

There was a time, not that long ago, when NHL free agency day was in the top ten days on my yearly calendar. I remember 2001, when I went to bed wondering if Sakic, Forsberg, and Blake would be elsewhere in the morning -- I woke up to find them all re-signed, and figured the Colorado Avalanche had locked up the next four Stanley Cups. Har de har. Even in recent years, I've been rapt. There was 2007, when Smyth and Hannan meant happy times ahead -- again, didn't quite work out as I planned. 2008, the wheels started to come off with the Tucker/Raycroft haul, two players I didn't want to see in a Colorado uniform.

After last year's hockey disaster, I didn't pay too much attention today. I've got a job, y'know. But at least so far, I'm pretty happy -- Craig Anderson is a safe, decent pick that at least won't screw them long-term, and David Koci may be an enforcer, but he's a Czech enforcer so that's plus-one in Gregland. Add in the Thrashers getting Kubina (plus two) and I'm ok with this. Neither team's set to really rock the world next year but at least they aren't making dumb moves.

No word yet on any deal for Tomáš Klouček.

* * *

Head back to Colorado at the end of the week, and thank goodness. It's been six or seven months since I've been, first time off work since returning from surgery, and since it's pretty consistently flirting with 100 degrees here, any chance to get out of Georgia should be seized upon.

#44 -- "Tree of Smoke" by Denis Johnson

#45 -- "Their Heads Are Green and Their Hands Are Blue" by Paul Bowles

Noah lent me a copy of Johnson's "Angels" 15 or so years ago, and I don't remember much about it other than an overwhelming spareness and feeling of desperation and sadness. This is certainly desperate and sad, but very full and rich as well -- "The Quiet American" stretched over the whole of the Vietnam War. A big cast of characters, each one coming to life, and I was engrossed. It rockets up to one of the best reads so far this year.

The Bowles book is a collection of essays about the "non-Christian world" (from the subtitle), primarily North Africa. A bit more light-hearted than "The Sheltering Sky" and there's some very good pieces here, and it made me nostalgic for a world that is largely changed or gone since Bowles traveled it decades back.

Gotta Love North Korea

From here:

Images on APTN television in North Korea showed thousands shouting “Let’s smash,” as a sign showed hands crushing a missile on which “U.S.” was written, the Associated Press reported.

If I got government-sponsored opportunities to shout "Let's smash," I'd be so much more patriotic.

All Tied Up

Nothing personal to anyone here, but if I'm called upon to attend any of your weddings in the near or far future, don't be offended if I show up sans necktie. I went to Nixy's wedding last night and nearly missed it because it took me somewhere around 40 minutes to get the necktie proper. Sounds severe, but consider: I think the last time I wore a necktie was 2004 or 2005. I don't do it often, and last night ensured that it'll be a long time before I do it again. I ended up going to the web and searching for "how to tie a necktie" (with another browser page open, searching for "is it acceptable to not wear a necktie to a wedding"), and after multiple aborted attempts, I finally hit it right with this page. Relache in Seattle, whoever you are, you have my gratitude. The rest of you, if I die and they want me to wear a necktie in the coffin, try to convince them to dress me in something I could conceivably have put on myself while living -- a hockey jersey, or pajamas, or something.

In other news: it's been in the neighborhood of 100 degrees all week here, combining the broiler-pan feel of Arizona with insane, unrelenting humidity. There's no jokes to be made about this. Quite simply, Atlanta's not made for human habitation.

Just Can't Hate Enough

I try to be a better person, and less negative, and then I come across something like this and just feel giddy (sorry, Britt!). I need some perspective in my life.

* * *

#43 -- "The Gathering" by Anne Enright

I've got a really normal, stable, healthy family. It's a miracle that I'm as fucked up as I am; they're close, supportive, sane human beings. So perhaps because of that, reading about dysfunctional families is always kind of uncomfortable for me -- possibly because I'm thinking "there but for the grace of God," possibly because I'm afraid that deep down there's not much of a difference.

The Ski Bum gave this to me a while back, and I put it off for the right time, figuring (Man Booker winner, dysfunctional family) it would be heavy and quite a time commitment. Then I zipped through it in two nights and change. It fairly crackles with tense energy -- it's not a comfortable read but it's a riveting one. When I started it Sunday, I couldn't put it down until I was on the point of unconsciousness.

It's stark and it's sad, and it's not light-hearted in the least, but it's a great book. I may have to start going through the Man Booker winners. Looking at a list, I've read a few already, and there's a couple more waiting on the shelf.