BOOO and BRRRR

I'm thinkin' that's Casper and friends having a conference on our deck plotting fearful events for "All Hallows Eve!"

BOOOO!


BRRRRR!


Officially we picked up 20 inches of snow, some areas nearby stacked up almost four feet worth of what ski areas call "white gold."


I GUESS it's newsworthy. I mean it is NOT Balloon Boy!

But the National Weather Service says it is the biggest October snow event here in a decade.
Made it a little tough to soak up vitamin D on the deck.

Kudos to the economically strapped U.S. Postal Service. Somehow, at least in our neighborhood, they held true (neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow) to their motto.

"Arf, arf....arf...growl....bark...arf....woof."

Translation:

"You want to loosen the reins back there. I'm freezing my ____up here. I can't even feel my paws. I hope they're still there. I mean, come on, at least you have boots on."

"Sorry big guy. I'm moving as fast as I can!"

"Hey, look at the babes over there!"

"Oh, yeah. I hear ya!"

"I get the short one."

"Deal. What happened to your sore paws and foul mood?"

"Woof!"

Here's one that got away. I'm walking through this winter wonder place when I espy an isolated swing set. My camera is at home.

An early teen boy is gravitationally and centrifically swinging into a parallel posture with the upper support beam.

Then he releases his grasp, slingshotting his heft into the sky to land where fate guides him. Fate is a deep snowdrift where he lands, bounces sore and wet. But you know what? He is smiling and he is proud.

More often than not, risk leads to reward.

This is my pet park bench. It sits in the middle of a five acre park, attached to and associated with both nothing and everything. I wish I had the discipline to get a shot of it from the same spot every single day for a year. It has so many, many stories to tell.

It is a big tease.

"Come sit on me if you dare!," says the bench.

If you live in this metropolitan area, this will come as no surprise. The rest of you might be amazed to know that these tons of new snow have almost all melted two days later. Yep, the golf courses are back in business. It is our little secret and it makes no difference at all that I'm sharing it with you. Why? Because unless you live Here? You think I'm fibbin', don't you?

"Excuse me, I need to go mow the lawn, get the candy ready for the ghouls and..."

"Yeah, rake the leaves. BAH! HUMBUG!"

Deciduous Deceit

"If ever I would LEAVE you......



Every SNOWFALL has a unique benefit distinctively aimed at the individual.

Sure the ski areas are all hyped...'cause they can now start seriously hyping their product. (Now you can put your "rock"skis and snowboards away and start using the good ones.)

I just saw my good friend Michelle Griego doing a live shot whilst screaming down (about 3 mph) a hill on a sled she stole from some kid in a park. (Is BULLY a gender specific term?)

(Her daughter Amaya will have a comment I'm sure.)

Kids and students who clearly haven't done their homework are delirious about school closures. The list goes on.

For Me? Well I've been talking about the annual October, November exfoliation of all the deciduous trees in the Northern Hemisphere?

I've also discussed my annual reticence to rake the little "fellas" (leaves) up once they've hit the turf. Some of you may remember the old ad campaign for a hair dye? It went something like this:

"Does She, or Doesn't She (dye her hair implied)?

Well, here is my personal snow storm ad slogan.

"Did he, or Didn't he (rake the leaves implied)?

Depending on the rate of decomposition, we may never know.

"GO DECOMP!"

I've got another question for you. Please explain this to me should it be within your framework of understanding. It is that time of year when charities are hitting us up big time, knowing we'll be looking for year end tax deductions. So here is a sign I read along side an avenue yesterday.

"DONATE YOUR VEHICLE NOW!"

free towing

"Wow, what a deal, huh?"

Just because you don't see a bunch of trash bags full of leaves out front tomorrow (trash day), doesn't mean I didn't take them to the landfill myself in the back seat of my Camry.

......It wouldn't be in Springtime! "

Same ol', same ol'!

I'm pretty much a recidivist (repeat offender) on this Fall leaf raking issue. Now outside of your suspicion that I'm just lazy, I will come up with yet another angle on "NO LEAF RAKING" syndrome.

Actually looking for justification for my inaction on leaf removal is a process I'm quite used to performing.

I had a reputation as a reporter as being someone, good or bad, who could turn almost anything into story. And so I, among a few others, became SEASON man. "First Snow? Send Paul!" "First Crocus? Send Paul!" "First Rain? Send Paul!" And yeah, "First Fall Leaf? Send Paul!"

So I got used to working with Artists who'd travel here from Seattle, and New Orleans, and other home bases just to capture the changing of the Aspen. And the only drawback they voice to their appreciation of our bounty is the one many of us express.

"There are TOO MANY people here to get a clear view!"

Take a look at Fall travel brochures. People are paying tons of money to wander through Maine, and Vermont, and New Hampshire just to be embraced by the leaves.

Check out a Fall Wedding sometime. Bridesmaid's colors? Rust, yellow, orange, and beige. Am I right, here?

But here we are on our tree lined urban and suburban streets, and the minute the first leaf hits the turf, what do we do? We start looking for the rake, don't we?

If we were a little bit smarter we would invite travelers to cruise our Aspen Leaf Avenues and Ways in October and November. We would set up little toll booths to tax those who want to share our bounty. And you know what? Were we to leave the leaf alone, in the Spring it might save us a few bucks at the nursery looking for mulch.

And yet, as always, while I'll likely be last, I'll succumb to the pressure and bag the poor little guys up, to be sent to a landfill to become METHANE.

(Maybe that is why Wolf Blitzer couldn't distinguish a "Hot Air" balloon, from a "Helium" balloon. He was thinking Methane, wasn't he?)

And with that clever transition I want to share a fun story with you. I had written a very extensive blog posting the day after the Balloon Boy hoax was exposed. It was all going to be shared under the title, "Well, Well, Well."

WELL....as it turns out blogger, or blogspot error, the d__ thing got erased. I, with angst aboard, was about to re-create my treatise when an odd thing happened.

I started hearing from many of you with responses to the title, "WELL, WELL, WELL" that said for instance, "Uh Huh!", "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah," "Got That Right!," "Might Have Guessed!"

It was a tough reminder that we often waste words. less really can be MORE. I did want to say that in my religion what the Heene parents did with and to their children is an unforgivable sin. I think they should be made to hover for life in a "Hot Air" balloon filled with methane.

SUBJECT SWITCH

I like choice. I like that in this country we have more of that commodity than most others. But I think we need to tone it down a bit, don't you? And you may be surprised that I'm not talking about "PC," versus "MAC." I'm not talking about "Dish" versus" "Direct" TV, or "Cable" versus "Satellite." No, I'm talking about a recent rare trip through Mac Donalds' drive thru. This time I'm picking up a quick evil non-vegan breakfast for me and Peggy.

"May I help you sir!"

"Yeah, I'd like an Egg Mac Muffin, and a Sausage Egg Mac Muffin!

"That's an Egg Mac Muffin, and a Sausage Egg Mac Muffin. Would like EGG with those sir?"

I'm sorry. I don't get it. Maybe if I went and raked a few leaves.

Well,well,well...

Beautiful Balloon

"Would you like to fly in my beautiful balloon?"

Unless you get your news from rabbit ears and the weekly bulletin in the Nebraska sand hills, you know about Balloon Boy. It was one of those rare days when I truly wished I was still out there chasing breaking news. What fun!

Of course I can say that because it has a quasi happy ending. We won't have to wait six months to publish our dark humor. I say quasi in the present tense 'cause this story is far from over. It really pushes some great memory sensors for me.

One is the rapidity with which everyone wants in on the act when there is not only drama, but REAL LIVE MOVING PICTURES to boot. And every time some TV station wants to budget cut their Chopper?

Ask those stations in town who didn't have access to flying saucer video how it was working for them. ( I can pretty much guarantee there were a few chopper budget board meetings this morning.)

There are other memories I can only smile at 'cause I'm not there anymore. Here's one! I think the number one rule in journalism, never admitted publicly?

GET THE STORY FIRST EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO SPECULATE!

Boy, oh, boy was that going on yesterday. If you were channel and network surfing, that balloon was headed in every direction on the compass, at speeds from a slow crawl to supersonic, landing in three different counties, one of which was 150 miles off, near a lake or a reservoir with the same name.

I felt sorry for the two CNN guys brought on to aid Wolf Blitzer dissect the story. They were chosen 'cause they both lived and worked here once. Unfortunately, as is quite often the case, they were subject to the information they were handed. With electronic graphics they set science and aeronautic technology back at least a century.

Oh, and despite numerous attempts, I hope someone counted them, Wolf Blitzer could still not understand the difference between a "Hot Air" and a "Helium" balloon.

Another fun practice popped up. How quickly anchors can find the moral high ground, and call for immediate severe discipline.

"I certainly hope that boy is severely punished."

"Why don't those parents know exactly where their children are and what they are doing at all times?"

And then, of course they bring in shrinks (not Todd or Kristi) to bolster their proselytizing and rush to judgement.

"Tell me Dr. Know It All, isn't this a teaching opportunity for the parents and children. Shouldn't the punishment be severe?"

"Thanks for asking that question Suzy Q. It certainly is a teaching opportunity. And an impression must be made on the child that this was NOT appropriate behavior."

Yeah, we'll get right on that. My friend, Jeff Stroh and I were discussing that issue. Anybody with a brain bigger than a pea knows the kid is totally home free. Jeff calls it the "gratefulness quotient." The level of punishment will always depend on the level of how grateful your parents are to find you alive. The only teaching going on will be the kid trying to sort out the insane behavior of all the adults around him.


And don't tell me there are more than three people on the planet who haven't benefited from the "gratefulness quotient."

Here's a moment of mine to illustrate.

My dad was a fireman, and at the same time I was five or six years old? Dad was an engineer (drove the fire truck).

He'd purchased this huge army tent and set it up in our backyard to see if it would be practical for camping. Well Jimmy Oliver (also five or six) from down the street found a cigarette lighter. I found a couple of bricks. Conversation:

Jimmy: "Let's light the tent?"

Paul: "I'll put it out with the two bricks."

Well, that worked for about six lightings and then? Poof! Conflagration! House threatened. Slight burn. Hiding under bed.

The fire station is a block away, and Dad still has to drive the truck to the scene, his house, and guide all his fire buddies into the yard to save the day.

It was one of those times when I was pretty sure Dad was going to end my life for being stupid. But he never said a word. In retrospect I know he knew I had already learned all the lessons I needed to know about fire.

Regardless of how this balloon story winds up, I'm pretty sure little FALCON will get the message.

Yet another one of my memory buttons was pushed during this ordeal. It is amazing how much better the journalism gets as you get closer to home. I think all the local TV news stations were credible once they caught up with response time. The further away the news operation the less important accuracy becomes. Wolf Blitzer probably didn't lose a single ratings point by not knowing that HELIUM and HOT AIR are not both on the periodic table of elements.

Oh, here is a fun illustration. The building of Denver International Airport was one of my beats for a long time. It was full of controversy, some of it deserved. But it was also open season for East Coast news outlets who would air or publish anything negative regardless of the source. My favorite was the urban myth that the airport's tower was LEANING ELEVEN DEGREES. DON'T YOU THINK AT LEAST SOMEBODY WOULD HAVE NOTICED?

Now here's another observation. Hand wringing, guilt, blame, finger pointing typically doesn't start for several days. This story seems to be a little ahead of the blame game. Already calculators are screaming trying to figure out the man hours, the personnel, costs of TV choppers and overtime for photographers and reporters, and the danger the first second and third responders faced.

But you know we really don't know the whole story yet, do we? And so even if little Falcon had never been anywhere near that balloon, when it loosed itself from it's mooring?

It would be ROSWELL TWO the minute anyone spotted that odd shaped craft. Instead of police and local rescue crews, we'd be deploying F-16s out of Buckley. The North American Defense Command would be airborne in seconds, President Obama would be rushed aboard Air Force One. The shrinks on TV would be speculating on the intentions of the invading ALIENS.

So, come on folks, we got some excitement in our lives, and we can thank little Falcon Heene, safe and sound, for keeping it all in perspective.

"The world's a nicer place in my beautiful balloon

It wears a nicer face in my beautiful balloon."

THE FIFTH DIMENSION

Revelation Week

First I have a revelation for my sister Theda. She wonders where I took Peggy on our anniversary. (Theda asks that question because she shares our anniversary with her birthday.)


Well I've been fascinated with the great variety of ways we are tightening our belts in this economy. But that doesn't mean romance must suffer. You'll note above that I went out my way to prepare a special anniversary breakfast for my beloved.


(In case you don't recognize it, that is a poached egg crammed into a heart shaped cutout in a piece of whole grain toast.)


And, hey, that was just the beginning. The nice thing about living in Colorado in the Fall is that it is loaded with romantic destinations for anniversaries. AND, this is a beautiful time of year in the Rockies with the changing of the Aspen. BUT, in a tight economy I decided to take Peggy in the direction less traveled by, EAST.






As you can see, in Colorado there is beauty in all directions. About a hundred miles EAST of Denver is the town of "Limon." I did tell Theda "Limon" is where we traveled to celebrate our anniversary. Theda writes she's never heard of "Limon" and is going to do some research.



Well, for Theda's sake, Limon is a prairie town of, I'm guessing here, about 5 thousand people? It is distinguished by three things I know of.

I (and every other Colorado journalist) spent four days in Limon in June of 1990 when the town was hit by a tornado. Downtown Limon was pretty much wiped out. It was nice to see a good portion of it rebuilt.



(At the same time it was sad to see so many businesses closed. No cars on the streets, almost a ghost town? And on a Saturday? The economy?)

Limon is also noted as a place thousands of motorists visit over night every winter. Not, for the skiing, however. It is where Interstate 70 quite often gets shut down from bitterly cold, high wind snow storms. (Snow drifts can get up to ten feet high.)



Finally, Limon is noted for it's truck stop, only good spot between Kansas and Denver to get a good 'ol, cholesteral packin', trans fat totin', "all ya can eat," Chicken Fried Steak! You've gotta agree that's just about the most romantic meal a man could offer up to 'is wife in a tight economy. Eh?

Wave to Peggy. (She had a huge plate of mashed potatoes with cream gravy. I had the "all you can eat" "deep fat fried" chicken special. MMMMM, good.)

Here's some relieving news about Limon? No one was on the street and all the businesses were closed, right? Well, turns out it was Limon High School's Homecoming Day. All five thousand (?) residents were on the North side of town watching the game. ( I'm guessing the South side of town is now about 5 feet higher. Think about it!)

Enough, already, about Limon revelations.

Today I decided to sketch what I am declaring to be the first maple leaf to hit the ground in our front yard.

As I sketched the little devil, I was struck by a couple of revelations. First the network structure is incredibly intricate. Peggy says, "Why. You mean because of all those little veins?"

"Well, YEAH! They remind me of a map of a drainage basin, nature copying itself almost microscopically."

The other revelation is how powerful shadows are. If they want to block something out? They block it out. And fall shadows are so BIG! And they are masters at softening lines.

Moving on, I've got no illustrations for this next revelation and you'll soon know why. Even though, since you're reading this, we presumably speak the same language? Nuance can certainly alter our communication intentions.

BACKGROUND:

Our pharmacist, Stanley shares our age and senses of moral justice and humor. We seldom get home from the pharmacy without laughing.

A few weeks ago Stanley notices the owner of his building has allotted most of the parking lot to a new tenant, making it a tough commute from car to counter for Stan's employees and customers. So we share some banter about parking in those spots anyway, just to see if they "have the guts" to tow us.

Now jump back a couple of months when my Primary Care guy determines I need a little extra testosterone in my blood.

Jump forward now. Today I'm at the pharmacy. I'm behind a lady who has been patiently (heh, heh) waiting for her prescription to be filled. She looks like she's had a rough day. In addition to Stanley, there are three women, including his daughter, working behind the counter.

Jump back. So I know, just to be ornery, I've parked today in one of those designated "threatening to tow me" parking spaces?

Jump forward. I know I can't get out of the pharmacy without a little fun (little did I know) banter with Stan. SO I SAY VERY LOUDLY, SO THAT EVERYONE CAN HEAR....?

"You know Stan, this testosterone is forcing me to PARK illegally."

Stan says, "Yeah it IS one of the side affects."

So the woman waiting? She gets this incredibly disgusted expression on her face. The woman behind the counter in front of me gasps, and slams her hand over her mouth.

The two other women turn away trying to hide and squelch their guffaws.

You know is wasn't until I was a block away from home before I GOT THE DOUBLE ENTENDRE?

WHAT A REVELATION!

Put a Lid On It!

Too often I've "taken the road" most traveled by to excuse my own absence from this milieu.

"Well, Everybody, I'm Back!"

And then I go on with a list of flimsy excuses for not blogging.

(It's a good thing no one is paying me for daily postings by the word.)

Well once again I'm going to "whine," and then move on to what I promise will be my comfort zone, "tongue in cheek" musing.

I had hoped my next appearance here would involve resolution of my roofing experience. Well, it is clear that it may not occur in my life time. Just let me warn you. If you've had a weather issue that MAY have impacted your roof?

GIRD YOUR LOINS! The ROOFERS are COMING!

From the moment they arrive the truth meter will seldom rise above ZERO.

And I thought when I checked out my Roofer with the Better Business Bureau, and explored the company's business history and longevity in the market, I'd be okay?

NOT! They've NOT followed through on MUCH of what they promised on either paper or with handshakes. And for some reason the BBB isn't aware of that practice.

And the insurance company, which I calculate kicked in about 10 thousand dollars more than the going rate for the job, has NO interest in investigating. When I suggested they might want to read my BLOG? The response was, "Oh, we're not allowed to do that!"

HUH?

And the mortgage holder sends out a document that requires my signature saying the work is satisfactory? I DID NOT SIGN IT! And when I call to let them know I didn't sign it? That mortgage holder says over the phone....VERBATIM...

" I don't know why we send those notices out. We never act on them."

Now a county building inspector did come out with the contractor to go over my complaints. (He'd approved the work a few weeks earlier.) Let me paraphrase his comment that will FOREVER ring in my ear.

"It was a hot day when I inspected your roof. I weigh 235 pounds. There was no way I was going to actually go up there to take a look. I could have slipped."

I'm pretty sure he totally missed the message when I replied, "I weigh 245 pounds and didn't go up there either."

I didn't need to. My camera and I saw all we needed to see from the street.

With the inspector still there, the contractor is saying, "we can't do THIS, but we can do THIS, and THIS and THIS. We'll get that done this afternoon."

Well that was about a month ago, and THIS and THIS, and THIS remain on the contractor's BACK BURNER. Well, let's be appropriately skeptical. He has absolutely no intention of doing THIS and THIS and THIS. He is waiting for me to give up. And I will! But it will not be because I don't think I have a case. Just pictures and paper work alone would give me a leg up in court. Than why not sue them?

Reason one: I am not a litigious person. I don't believe in prolonged angst. Bitterly is a horrible way to exist.

Reason two: I have better and more upbeat topics to occupy my muse.

Reason three: Absolutely EVERY person I've talked to in my neighborhood, and every other hail infested neighborhood, has a tale of woe to match or top mine. And we've all had different contractors. That is why I've not named names.

So I'm going to "PUT A LID" on this issue, and get happy again. And you heed my advice.

A Jock Strap will NOT GET THE JOB DONE!

(I've just gone over all of this with Peggy and she concurs with my description of the tale. I'm not sure yet how she stands on the resolution.)