Here's to 2007

Ah, the blog ideas have come slim lately, obvious from my sporadic posting but it just wouldn't be right to let 2008 dawn without some blog resolutions.
I vow to take on more serious issues in my blog. First up? The economic impact of Leprino Foods bringing their mozzarella plant to Greeley. So much for that awful Greeley stank.
I vow to be more supportive of city of Brighton ideas. A giant bouncy castle at the north end of Main Street? Count me in.
I vow not to question the sincerity of office sympathy cards anymore. Yikes, I didn't know you cared!
I vow not to post any more pictures of people barfing. Sorry that grossed you out, honey.
I vow to make my blog more Mom-friendly. Look for my November shout-out to holiday food and gift festivals.
I vow to make my blog more fire-chief friendly. We're going to start a fire photo of the week section. Even if it means photographing my burning toaster streudel.
I vow to learn how to spell streudel.
I vow to make my blog more boss friendly. No nudie pictures, kids.
I vow to seek out all the videos of laughing German midgets I can find.
I vow to write 100 times on the blackboard that I won't use Camden Farmer's name again.
I will offer more conspiracy theories of Dora the Explorer.
I will post a picture of MacGyver every week along with the proper sequence for building a spaceship out of a diaper box.

Calling all cars

We normally don't do it this way but if you didn't slide off Highway 85 between Brighton and Fort Lupton yesterday, we'd love to hear from you. You, my friend, are one of the few!

This means war

Are you scared to go to the zoo now? Yesterday's San Francisco Zoo tiger rampage on top of the Denver Zoo zoo keeper getting killed earlier this year makes me awful nervous. The animals are pissed about being locked up and they're coming after us. I swear PETA told us this was going to happen. I can't run the risk of my daughter getting slapped by an angry penguin. The answer? Complimentary tranquilizer guns at the gate. Yes, you heard me right, it's time to arm the zoo visitors. If a coked-up elephant is charging for me, I need something other than a souvenir drink cup. Either that or we put all the animals (Yes, I'm talking about you, cute polar bear cub) in Hannibal Lecter-esque contraptions. I think it's also time to get these animals some anger management counseling. Obviously, this animal had some issues. I'm also hearing Tatiana the Tiger left behind some bizarre videos indicating she was motivated by the Columbine killers and that she also was on Ambien.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to you all. See ya next week.

This is a sham

It's a rare double blog day if only to spit some venom at the city of Greeley. I begrudgingly paid my parking ticket yesterday (earned while I covered a trial up there earlier this month). I overstayed my welcome in a two-hour parking spot. Court proceedings are notoriously slow. I don't know how many minutes have ticked off my life clock in the past year waiting for a court hearing to start. Sometimes, a judge will call a 15-minute recess just to sneeze. And courts also work on different time schedules. For an instance, a 15-minute recess is actually a 30-minute recess and a court hearing scheduled to start at 2 p.m., actually starts at 2:45 p.m. So what evil minion in Greeley decided to stick it to people by putting time parking outside the courthouse? Asinine, completely asinine! If the city of Greeley is that hard up for money, call the Monforts and get a loan!

The things we learn

Not all the things you learn as parents are earth-shattering – some you already know but conveniently choose to forget. I had always been warned to steer clear of the Chuck E. Cheese pizza but there I was chowing down yesterday as we celebrated my daughter's second birthday. It was delicious. Then last night, it was Chuck. E's revenge. I get the message – next time I'll give the pizza the ol' Casa Bonita nod. Some lessons we learn as parents are more important. In the Dec. 26 Brighton Standard Blade, we'll share the story of a Brighton family who nearly lost their 3-year-old daughter to a severe cold. As I move up the food chain at MetroWest (now slightly above ferret) I don't get to write as much as I like but I'm glad I got to take this one on. I'm especially excited because my sister, a talented, young photographer, took the photos for the story. It's fun to work with her. She has great vision. The story itself came from a news tip. I can't stress enough how important it is to hear your ideas for news and features. We need to be in your homes (preferably around dinner) to hear your stories – this is your paper.

Hate mail

Brighton is a city on the rise – growing residential areas, big box retailers and the crappiest, smallest most cramped spot for a post office you've ever seen. Why do I need to walk six blocks after I finally find a parking spot all to just buy a stamp. Out of the all things we have now here, why can't we get a big post office? And, despite the hard work of the cashiers, the only time the place doesn't have a line is when they're closed. Arrggh, Brighton so big, yet so small.

Tribute

It's a shame that the week before Christmas brings sad news but we are mourning the loss of a friend today. Brad Bradberry, the former publisher of the Evergreen branch of our newspapers and a former regional manager, died last night following a courageous battle with cancer. Much of what MetroWest is today is a credit to Brad. He took the helm as we transitioned management several years ago and then hand-picked a new management team, including our publisher, Karen Lambert, to lead us in a new direction. It was always a pleasure to have Brad stop by our office. I looked forward to his warm handshake, his encouragement and maybe a little doting about his beloved Georgia Bulldogs. It's a shame he won't get to see his Bulldogs come to Boulder in 2010 to take on the Buffs. Brad touched a lot of lives and many more than mine but it was pleasure to know him and work with him. God bless Brad's family in this difficult time.

Hey, Mr. Wilson

I'm sure many of you sports fan are eagerly awaiting the release of the George Mitchell (pictured right) report today. I'll end the suspense, it will find, among other things, that Mitchell's son, Dennis, is a menace and caused an exorbitant amount of trouble for their next door neighbor, the elderly Mr. Wilson. The report will also find that Dennis had a disturbing and ceaseless lack of interest in girls – repeatedly rejecting the overtures of one Margaret Wade.

Note: In the accuracy of history, I must disclose the name of the character was actually Henry Mitchell, not George, thus invalidating this whole post. But, having found a way to equate Dennis the Menace with not only the steroids investigation but a possible alternative lifestyle, I don't have the heart to remove the post.

Nothing?

Yikes, I thought yesterday's post would garner at least something more than a yawn. Already burnt out on the new bad teacher scandal? Then what was I doing in court today? Are maybe you've just heard it all before. Moving on to more funner stuff, I will have to dig my inflatable Frosty out of the snow today for the second time in three days. Looks like we're in that December weather pattern – pretty frequent snow. I don't mind the snow, I mind the side-streets which are already in mid-winter form. How can we put a man on the moon but we can't plow the road out of my neighborhood?

Somebody's on the naughty list

Hey, kids, it's great to be back after a week of courtroom watching (not Judge Judy) and sick kid watching. And I bet you're just salivating at what I think of the latest scandal at the Brighton Collegiate High School (where we treat kids the old fashioned way). Well, I can't give you much especially since I'll be contributing to our newspaper's coverage of this year's naughty BCHS teacher. Innocent until proven guilty is a fading concept. However, at this rate, we've almost convinced our corporate office to fund a position solely to report on these yearly incidences. I will say this: Once can perhaps be passed off as a bad apple, twice as a coincidence but a possible three times with teachers messing with the merchandise and you have to wonder. This has to stop.

Duty calls

I'm on assignment this week – covering a trial in Greeley. Use this time to get caught up on Christmas shopping.

No greater love

You might have heard about the tragedy yesterday involving a 19-year-old woman who drowned trying to save her dogs from a Buffalo Run Lake. I'm awed by her love for her animals that she would give her own life. Could you do the same? Should you do the same? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Redirect

On the mend after one of my famous 24-hour flu bugs and ready to blog with you again. Except, no great topics are springing to mind today. That usually means I'm going to end up in a 300-word rant about public restrooms. Alas, I will spare you such a grizzly rant about toilets and direct you to http://www.brightonbullhorn.blogspot.com/. Staff writer Adam Goldstein does a really good job of analyzing issues at the city government level and, besides that, there was a bird at City Council the other night!

And they call this news?

Sick of November sweeps yet? Not me. I could sit through a million very special reports from our local TV newscasters. The one I haven't seen yet? A paraplegic, former Olympian, Iraqi War veteran, widower raising three kids who were mistreated by a dentist while their dog was mistakenly euthanized by a former priest defrocked for spreading genital herpes to a Macaw named Timbo who was rescued from a Brazilian rain forest before evil Mogadishuian warlords slashed and burned it to make way for Brangelina's new home. Now, that's a special feature, baby!

Honest Abe

http://www.abevigoda.com/ffb.php

This isn't Baywatch kids

I've always had a problem with swimming pool lifeguards or as I like to think of them, over-zealous snots out to ruin any perceived good time. So, I wasn't surprised when I was able to weave another lifeguard tale into my tapestry of annoyance last week. We took our daughter swimming at a rec center pool I won't name (Margaret W. Carpenter Recreation Center, 11151 Colorado Boulevard Thornton, CO 80233) and I was preparing to take my daughter up the slide to go down with me (something I've done numerous times at the Brighton pool without some pimple-faced brat lifeguard blowing their top. But, as I reached the top of the slide, I was ordered down. I could not take my daughter on the slide because she wasn't eight. That was the official reason – the real reason was I was the victim of the power trip of a 16-year-old (mad at his Dad for not letting him borrow the car). I never seen a pool lifeguard actually save someone – I've read about it but do you believe everything you read in the papers? I have, however, seen more than a few lifeguards in my day quash games of Marco Polo, successfully limit running near the pool and any other "horseplay." The funny part? As you might know, we recently returned from Hawaii and I have to say I felt more at ease with my daughter in the ocean than I did at that rec center pool with an army of pubescent punks enforcing heinous rules. I guess I feel insulted because I'm going to look out for my daughter more than anyone especially when it comes to water. I was amused when I was leaving the pool to see they would be conducting periodic alert drills where they placed a mannequin in the pool and tested lifeguard response times. I'm guessing that mannequin got wrinkles waiting for somebody to come get him, but I bet he didn't make it down the slide.

A bountyhood of thankfulness

As Thanksgiving approaches, a chance to get fat and watch football or, as I call it, Sunday, I'm reminded of all the things I have to be thankful for this year.
First the serious props:
• My family, my amazing wife and my precocious daughter who loves the word no.
• My co-workers. I think I've said it before but it takes a lot more than just the job to keep you in one place for half a decade – these people are like family, one weird, sometimes over-sensitive family.
• My parents, my wife's parents: you all just do so much for us.
And the rest
• I'm thankful to the Colorado Rockies for making October so amazing. Sorry you got bludgeoned by the Red Sox and screwed out of post-season awards.
• I'm thankful for my fantasy hockey team (5-2 and tied for first place.) There are few things I look more forward to especially since I'm winning.
• I'm thankful for the now two fire chiefs who are regular visitors to my blog. I'm moved that people entrusted with our public safety come here to watch me launch a pseudo-strike against management or whine about cheese (future post).
• I'm thankful for O.J. Simpson. That guy has a screw loose and it makes me feel normal.
• I'm thankful for the defiance of former Pakistani prime minister Benazir Bhutto. Who, by the way, is not the sworn enemy of Popeye (Thanks, Steve Smith).
• I'm thankful that the courts decided Britney Spears wasn't suited for taking care of her own kids. Now, if they'd decide the same about K-Fed and hand the kids over to Brangelina.
• I'm thankful for YouTube – geez, the time I waste on there.
I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. See you back here next week.

Here come the juice

The long strike is over and none of my demands have been met but I can't sit silently by and not riff on O.J. – especially after this gem yesterday.
"If I have any disappointment, it's that I wish a jury was here. As always, I rely on the jury system."
O.J. SIMPSON after a justice of the peace refused to dismiss any charges in a 12-count complaint against him and two co-defendants resulting from a Sept. 13 confrontation in a casino hotel room.
Actually, juice, you wish the plans to reincarnate Johhny Cochran were moving along a little faster because it isn't looking good for you.
Ahhh, it's good to be back!

Strike continues

Update: My boss met briefly with me to address my concerns and invited me to review the company financial numbers to see the money generated by my blog. I could be wrong but her willingness to cede that information doesn't seem to bode well for my strike. On the positive side, Jay Leno did stop by my picket line today with doughnuts and wanting to know if I heard any good jokes. I provided him this:
A. Why do you go to bed? Q. Because the bed won't come to you.
He quickly left with the doughnuts.




The strike continues. So far, little response.

Good News

Hey, good news, I'm now part of the technorati universe where the elite get their blogs found, check out my profile at Technorati Profile

To the picket line

Though it has been a tough decision, I have decided to join my Hollywood brethren on the picket lines. My decision comes for many of the same reasons as the WGA. Though my blog is a massive money generator for MetroWest Newspaers (more than two cents in Google ad revenue in less than a year and I did purposely spell newspapers wrong to illustrate my intrinsic value), I have not seen any of these profits. The powers-that-be use this revenue to wine and dine on items such as restroom toilet paper, coffee creamer and the paper we print our newspaper on. I deserve a share of this revenue and, thus, I strike!

Back in my shell

Good afternoon, blogettes. I hope everyone's Monday is going according to plan. Still sifting through hate mail for mocking peanut-allergists. Yes, people are a little nutty. Just kidding, people as always, have been completely supportive of my inability to take on anything serious. They have however questioned that Mr. Peanut's name is actually Peety. If you didn't get a chance to read my tongue-in-cheek column in last week's Blade, well, then you should!

You're a good city, Brighton, Colo.

Dear city of Brighton and baseball stadium supporters,
Pick your chin up off the ground, it's going to be OK. I know you wanted a baseball stadium really bad and you feel like the kid on Christmas morning without that coveted toy. But as my mom used to say, at least I think she used to say, just because you wanted it doesn't mean you really need it.
I know there is peer pressure. Commerce City has a soccer stadium and they want a minor league baseball stadium. Aurora toyed with minor league baseball. Fort Collins wants a team. The new Thornton mayor apparently wants a stadium.
But, Brighton, to use another Mom analogy, "if Commerce City jumped off the bridge, would you jump too?"
Isn't there a little something to be said for uniqueness. After all, Brighton is getting those cookie-cutter big box stores like everywhere else and, mind you, without too much of a fight from this community. We've got a big movie theater and a steadily growing number of chain restaurants. We're going to have a Performing Arts Center in the near future.
So, naturally, the idea of plopping a baseball stadium in the heart of downtown makes perfect sense along with a giant Christmas tree overlooking a beautiful ice skating rink. Right?
So maybe now, is a good time to take stock of what we are as a community. And let's do it while voters are basking in the glow of fighting off another tax. And you're kidding yourself if you think this was solely about some "obscure, election laws" that nobody, according to the mayor, cares about it. The fighting bell rang a long time ago and voters are going to put up their dukes to a new tax any chance they get. These people turned down a new high school once, a high school, I tell you!
But, honestly, what is Brighton? Are we going to be unique community or are we going to be a dumping ground for the best of what every community has to offer?
Maybe we can be a great home even without a home plate.

Live election blog

A recap of the night thus far. No surprises in the Council races, the stadium appears to be in trouble as I long anticipated it would be. The unfortunate part of that is blame will be directed to the Brighton Blade for its exposure of some shoddy campaign practices and city officials will overlook an over-taxed citzenship giving a collective "No." Thanks for spending this time with me.

How does Troy Tulowitski not get a Gold Glove? Are you kidding me. I hate Joe Torre!

We're getting close to the 10 p.m. hour and wrapping this baby up. I hope what the evening has lacked in election results has been made up for with inane facts. I did promise a revelation of Miley Cyrus' favorite ice cream – a promise I can't deliver. Sue me, Dairy Queen.

Following the huge lightning bolt, I feel compelled to apologize to the clerk and recorders of the world. I didn't mean it.

OK, seriously, what does the clerk and recorder do the other 364 days of the year? All year to prepare. Can't we just have some prompt results?

It's been a long night but not long enough for Giada De Laurentiis to have delivered her baby. You think they'll call the kid Alfredo?

Tiffany Hegstrom is getting crushed in the Fort Lupton City Council race. Nobody bought her inexperience is my best quality ploy. It's just hard to convey that on a sign. "Vote me. It's better than ... you." It appears Shannon Crespin will remain Fort Lupton mayor. Now, watch that power go to her head.

Hang on, the servers crashing. I'll call the Rockies!

I didn't get any surge off my last Gene Sears name drop. What if I say Union Pacific is getting a bad rap?

How bad is the election slog? My editor, again not Perry White, now online, looking for dates.

Does anyone know if Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens are still together. That inappopriate pic scandal really rocked their untarnished love.

Is Brighton ready for another big snowstorm? Get that plan dusted off, it's going to be 70 tomorrow.

It is daybreak in Iraq and we still don't have any definite result in the Brighton stadium issue. Another bleak day for the Iraquians indeed.

I keep humming "Who killed Tangerine" by Tears for Fears. That's a catchy little tune!

I got a hit surge early when I mentioned Gene Sears – champion of the people! So we'll do it again! Yea, watch the people come. Next, I'm going to name drop Dick Hartmann.

9:15 p.m. Hollywood Writer's Strike still on!

Do you think Brighton missed the boat by not having John Hicklenhooper appear in their campaign ads. Midas touch, baby, the Midas touch. I'm going to have him campaign for my next raise.

I'm literally out of things to say as another election result-less night wears on. So I'll announce that (S)Miley Cyrus is total BFF's with Ashley Tisdale.

A moment from the levity or, in Dave Copperfield's case, levitation, to give a hand to everyone who ran for local political office this year. We're all so busy, it seems. The fact that some take the time to give back deserves praise. Now, on with the countdown.

A reprieve, that outage isn't until 10 p.m. – I ramble on!

This just in, the Colorado Rockies have raised ticket prices. Changing your mind about that stadium yet and $1 beer nights?

No kidding, a headline on the DenverPost.com, "Denver poised to make marijuana a low priority." For its supporters, it remains a "High Priority."

We're grooving to "The Headliners" right now. Good stuff. "Since you left baby, there hasn't been a cloud in the sky." An ode to how we all live our lives trapped in the eye of the storm.

I thought with all the letters received, Tom Janich had a chance among the angry over-taxed. But it's not looking good for him. Coming up on the 9 p.m. outage, hope I'll catch you on the other side. If not, good night and good luck.

New results from AdCo. Much of the same – 2A (stadium losing) 2B (holy roads) winning. Still a slim margin of votes but I'd be surprised if this doesn't stand up when the stadium is in such a hole.

The Greeley Trib is reporting that Rudy Giulliani will visit their quaint little town. Rudy cruising up 85 through Fort Lupton to Greeley – just as we all have done. Phat.

This comment is left blank in honor of the Hollywood Writer's Strike but big props for the most creative picket signs!

You should have just seen my blog visitors just plummet with the Al Roker comment. Just kidding. He's infertile.

Update: Al Roker – still struggling to conceive!

Congrats to Today Show food correspondent Giada De Laurentiis, plump and pregnant. Yes, it's come to this, I'm actually congratulating the Everyday Italian lady. Abodanza!

Where are the results? Where are the results? BTW, still don't have my Rockies playoff tix!

Apparently, much of the Chatfield High School football team has been struck with some mystery illness just as a playoff game with Mullen nears. Damn that Dave Logan, always look for an edge. It's called mono, kids, stop smooching those cheerleaders!

No new results, I fear we are headed for a very long night. In other news, magician David Copperfield believes he is the victim of extortion. Can't he just make that person disappear?

Does anyone have Garth Brooks' new album yet? Is he going by a different name or is he actually Garth Brooks this time. R.I.P Chris Gaines.

We are ready to declare Anthony's Pizza as best pizza in Brighton. Close second: The Great Wall – Chinese Restaurant.

8:30 p.m. and we are ready to project Barack Obama as the next President of the United States. The Rack, the rack, the rack is on fire. We don't need no water, let the Obama burn! That's a rap song with different words for our older readers (Hi, Grandma, go to bed).

Has anyone heard how the surgery for the girl with eight limbs went? That's frightening stuff. Hello to my wife who is following along the blog, she's reading this instead of a Beverly Hills 90210 rerun!

We are now considering a spirited game of Strip Poker. I already volunteered to be the thimble – wait, different game!

This is the tough part of Election Night – no results. Daryl Meyers desperately wondering if he will sweep to a victory in his unopposed race. I wish I could help. All I can really tell you is that Miley Cyrus' mom wasn't always wild about her horseback riding.

NEWS FLASH: The state patrol is looking for a man who lied to them, then walked out of a hospital in Steamboat Springs in his nightgown. He was wearing nightgown? What possibly could he have been lying about? The thong underneath?

The pizza has arrived so tonight is pretty much a success and I'm tempted to stop blogging. But, I will persevere as we await further results.

My editor is pacing through the newsroom. Election apprehension? No, listening for the pizza man banging on the front door. Perry White he is not!

Just past 8 p.m. and no new batch of results and also no 9News reports of voters trapped in long lines. However, six Grandview High School students did fall through a stage trap door so, obviously, the voting system still needs work.

I'd like to welcome my blog visitors from Phoenix, Arizona and ask, "This can't possibly be interesting to you?"

I just fielded a call from my 2-year-old daughter who expressed some surprise that Val Espinosa-Martinez is losing to Rob Farina and Brighton voters are embracing the pothole tax. Then she barfed.

The Nuggets appear headed to a loss. Go ahead and pack that season up.

Many of you might be surprised to learn that Miley Cyrus' name is actually Destiny Hope Cyrus. But her cheerful disposition caused Billy Ray to nickname her Smiley. The M was later dropped so she would have a killer stage name. I'm considering dropping the K from my name. The pizza is officially AWOL and the police have been called. We think it was delivered to city of Brighton campaign headquarters.

How long before the at-large description is deemed politically incorrect? Big candidates should not be singled out.

I'm also currently winning the Thornton Mayoral race and am fielding concession calls including one for two hot dogs and a beer.

And Tom Janich's Weld County lead has paled as he falls behind to Terry Moore early. Knicks by two with two minutes left. Go Nugs!


Early returns have the Brighton stadium losing 65 percent to 35 percent. And 2B, the pothole debt, is winning. Way too early to read into anything. But clearly, people hate potholes and are disenchanted by the Rockie's World Series debacle.


We're getting our first AdCo results and it appears I will retain my position as Sheriff. Take that, Bob Marley.

It was just pointed out Tom Janich has been winning for over an hour. Call this thing ... quick!

Allow me to play Gene Sears for a moment and ponder how the city council election will play out in Fort Lupton tonight. Obviously, people vote with the issues on their mind. We saw that with Commerce City and NASCAR. Fort Lupton folks are probably looking for leaders to take a rigid stance on the Union Pacific issue. I think Shannon Crespin coasts as mayor tonight but I am high on a Mountain Dew energy drink. I think David Norcross is also headed back to the council. Pizza? M.I.A. However, preparations are being made for its arrival. Spread those napkins, boys.

Does anybody know where the city is partying tonight? I hope it's not Taco Bell like last year. It was really crowded.

Also a moment of silence for Allen Messick and Steve Smith – manning our www.metrowestfyi.com election results. God be with them. Still no pizza, hunger starting to cause delirium.

Not to say, results are flagging but can we pause for a moment of silence to remember the patriarch of the Osmond family? I'm with you in spirit, Marie.

The Nuggets are locked up in a nail-biter with the Knicks, 98-96 in the fourth quarter. And, just so you know, the fight will come at the conclusion of tonight's game so you haven't missed it.

Just so you know, this blog will go down at 9 p.m. for a scheduled outage. I know, the timing is awful, I'll do my best to leave you with some cliffhanger ala. Col. Mustard has emerged from the study.

Those early Tom Janich numbers were courtesy of Weld County. Nothing on the Adams County Web site yet, they like to keep us in suspense. And for those of you who don't know, Miley Cyrus is the daughter of Achy-Breaky phenom Billy Ray Cyrus.

We're half-past 7 p.m. and, as I've come to expect, results are slowly trudging in like workers to the steel mill. Provided the Weld County and Adams County clerk Web sites don't suffer malicious attacks, (Go Rockies) things should pick up soon. We have solved the pizza problem which I thing bodes well for the evening.

You might be surprised to know that Miley Cyrus a.k.a. Hannah Montana also found a way to shine in school activities including cheerleading and dancing!

Tonight's first election controversy comes from within election coverage land where we can't decide not only on what kind of pizza we will get or who will order it. This type of indecision can shape the political landscape.


Welcome to my live election blog. First off, with at least 10 votes in, Tom Janich is beating Terry Moore in the Brighton City Council race. We're going to project just this once that Tom Janich will win that race! Has that ever happened. I'll be here till 10 p.m. tonight or until construction starts on Brighton's new baseball stadium. If the results start to lull, I also have a Triple Threat Teen Magazine so stick around to find out Hannah Montana's fav ice cream!

Roger Ebert would be proud

Took my daughter to her first movie Saturday, compliments of some generously provided movie tickets, and we saw the animated "Bee Movie." I thought it was a heart-warming, tale with plenty of eye-candy for the kids and subtle adult humor for the grown-ups. I actually recommend it for a fun afternoon at the movies. I must be a sucker. Because, while my daughter enjoyed the trailers for new movies as well as the Dreamworks Studio logo at the beginning, her reaction to the movie was tepid at best and, about 35 minutes into the movie, she barfed,barfed, barfed. Yes, you might say her reaction was a little immature compared to most movie critics and maybe even a little more messy. But, given the verbosity of today's critics, I found her review of the movie to be straight to the point. And while I was left cleaning vomit off my shoes, I respected her opinion and really wish we could see such candor from more critics albeit with me at a safe distance. So take it from a 2-year-old, Bee Movie is not worth the nausea. Take that, Ebert!

I wouldn't call it dancing with the stars

It's all you

In honor of Halloween, I'm going to be a mime and shut up! Comment on anything you want. If you need suggestions, can I offer: free tacos, Rocktober depression, Brighton's new multi-purpose "not just a baseball stadium" event center, your favorite Halloween costume or just your general thoughts on this blog and why you are here again today when you should really be working. Happy Halloween!

Yum

Free taco? Delicious. God Bless Taco Bell. God Bless America!

W.W.W.D

NBC Nightly News anchor Brian Williams is slated to host Saturday Night Live on, wait for it, Saturday night. My first thought is this is completely blurring the lines between news and entertainment. It would be like me being a reporter and then trying to maintain a humorous blog. I emphasize "trying." Since I have yet to be successful, I see no conflict. Don't get me wrong. I like Williams a lot – way more than that lousy, no-good, phony Chuck Gibson (Sorry, I lost a bet, on ABC or that slutty, manipulative tease Katie Couric (bad breakup) on the Eyeball network. But like any good time loving girl in the bar, thinking about taking that bloak in the corner home for a romp, I can't help but wonder, "Will I still respect him in the morning>" Will your spoof of Britney Spears' children being abducted by the ghost of Anna Nicole Birkhead-Stern-Leo-Fred-Jack-Smith still be funny on Monday when you're reporting on the crisis in the Middle East, provided we'll even have a newscast with him off, fishing for yucks. I think back to the respected anchors of the past – the patriarchs that inspired me to be in this business or at least comb my hair. I look down at the yellow band on my wrist and wonder, W.W.W.D. (What Would Walter Do?)

A baseball fan reborn

So this is how winter starts.
Until today, it had been with chilly evenings, fallen leaves and one last, luscious tease of Indian summer.
But now, as a child of 28, I know that the cold arrives on a long fly ball to the left field warning track and one, last stinging strikeout.
As I drove home on I-25 from watching the final Rockies game Sunday night, not because I was there or even got a whiff of buying two overpriced, lousy seats, I couldn't help but think I saw a snowflake fall against the fading glow of the lights of Coors Field.
There is and will be much written about the 2007 Colorado Rockies. Hopefully, in time, the totality of their remarkable run will dim criticisms including one pious Denver sports columnist who declared they "choked" on the national stage.
But I will credit the Rockies with forever changing the seasons in this state and, hopefully, I can make the argument without sparing you any more euphemisms built on Rockies and October.
I kept doting on all the things this month that I'd never done before like celebrating my birthday with a Rockies victory and carving pumpkins in anticipation of the big Rockies game, violently smacking my computer monitor in what the Rockies would call a "malicious attack” and wondering how I would reschedule trick-or-treating for my daughter if we got to a game 6.
And then, just like that, it was all over.
Does the air feel a little colder this week? The grass a little less green. I caught myself in a moment of despair thinking about the bleakness of the winter ahead.
And then I understood.
Cubs fans weren't so crazy anymore.
And now the thought of all that shoveling ahead (please not as much as last year) and those dreary days give way to one thought: spring.
Spring training won't just be glorified practice next year. It is now a beacon – a light of hope guiding us through the changing of seasons.
And there are no guarantees of World Series visits every year. With these owners, we'll just pray we have three out fielders.
But, from now, this is how winter really starts. I didn't know what I was missing.

Halftime speech

I know your discouraged about the final score of last night's Rockies game. May I offer some insight? Give the Red Sox all the credit, the best team won today and the final score is the only statistic that matters. The Rockies were outplayed in every phase of the game. The Red Sox simply wanted it more than they did. The young Rox had their chances but they let them slip away and they came up a little short. Who cares about moral victories? They simply caught us on an off night. It just wasn't meant to be. They out-hustled us. They out-muscled us. They out-coached us. We got a wake-up call. We just weren't mentally prepared. We came out flat. We beat ourselves. We only have to look in the mirror. They ate our lunch. This is a bitter pill to swallow, but please eat your lunch first so you don't upset your stomach. I take full responsibility for this loss. We didn't get the job done. Not to take away anything from them, but we didn't play like we're capable of playing. My hat's off to them. I tip my hat to them. You've got to hand it to them and my hat too. The best team won today. We can still hold our heads high.These guys have nothing to be ashamed of. They just made the big plays and we didn't. They stepped up and made the plays. We didn't match their intensity.
Let's win one for the Gipper!

Five years of oops and awes

As I mentioned last week, I'm preparing to mark my five-year anniversary here at the paper. Perhaps, you've received the fliers for the large party happening at the Bella Sera. Perhaps, you'll let my boss know since we kind of need her to pay for it (Thanks, Karen).
When I think back on the last five years, so many memories seem to meld together. Of course, I started here as an education reporter (a tenuous role for someone at this paper) at the time. I learned quickly about the difference between reporter and cheerleader. Because I remember how excited I was for the school district when it looked like they had gotten their new high school in 2003. And how stupid I felt interviewing people about what a great moment it was, when it turned out to be untrue.
And I learned about the dangers of placing opinion in story when I took a slant to the planned Brighton Pavilions and questions about whether the site would work or not. City folk weren't happy (they really never are) and some cast me as being negative. Lesson learned. I tell my stories straight up – each side represented and me quietly in the middle. It's not flashy but I feel better about it.
It served me well when I was temporarily deported to Fort Lupton (just kidding) where there are always two sides to everything. Fort Lupton taught me a lot about my myself as a reporter. It's a tough job being a young kid handling a whole paper, trying to represent so many divergent points. It's devastating when a city official leaves you a message telling you that your story is wrong and people are sick of you not keeping your facts straight. It's gratifying when you were right all along. Thick skin comes quickly in this business, but slowly for self-conscious people like me.
Fort Lupton also gave me the chance to tell the story of Brian – a young autistic boy. It showed me the power we can have sometimes to tell meaningful stories.
Of course, as a notorious critic of my own work, the mistakes stand out. During the 2003 election, I mangled the names of two kind people who invited me in to their home to talk about their opposition to the new high school. Getting a last name wrong is understandable, botching a first name and changing a man into a woman is horrific. I'm sure those people still remember me and don't talk to the media any longer as a result. Just know I'm still mortified and every time I drive by your house, I still give myself an obligatory head slap. People look at me weird now when I ask them to spell their names especially when it's Bill but I don't care.
Being a courts and crime reporter, I'm still walking that fine line between duty and sleazy. I have a hard time chasing ambulances, a harder time calling grieving families and demanding their story immediately (Don't worry, 9News, that's still all you. I want to sleep at night). I remember a few years ago, I eagerly responded to a high school fireworks stand that had been toppled by a microburst in the K-Mart parking lot. I was eagerly snapping pictures as parents tried to clean up the mess when one angry mother yelled, "Can you stop taking pictures so we can clean it up?" It was a good thing I was only 15 feet away or I would have really been a nuisance.
People ask me what's next. Where do I want to go? A big paper, perhaps. I'll be political because it's that time of year. If you would have asked me five years ago if I would still be here, I would have laughed (just on the grounds of the original management.) But, in addition to enjoying the work, I have a family here, albeit a sometimes strange family but I love them all including the dog. Yes, we have a dog, the boss said if we're really good we can have a hamster next.
So as long as I'm here, this is where I want to be. I know, I could run a presidential campaign on the ambiguity of that statement. Hope you've enjoyed the past five years, or however long you've been along, and here's to five more!

Music voting suspended

I have suspended the weekly "pick the song" music voting as we re-evaluate it's usefulness. I can't believe you picked Vanessa Carlton. Yes, the argument could be made that I put it up as an option and, thus, I'm partly to blame. But, as sophisticated readers of my blog, I expect better from you. I expect a high standard from you that in any situation – be it bank robbery, drunken slumber or drug-induced coma – you will never pick Vanessa Carlton for any reason. This, of course, comes a week after you chose bad-mommy Britney to grace this precious bastion of Internet fare. My faith is shaken. I encourage you to spend this week thinking about what good music is and the danger of cluttering the Internet with crap.
Thank you,
Kevin
P.S. I'm really just out of ideas for songs. Don't take it too hard.

Do the Dewcinations

Even though we have a delicious, two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew sitting in our fridge, my wife and I are giving up Mountain Dew – at least at night. I have long been plagued by people lurking in my bedroom when I awake in the middle night after drinking the Dew. Sometimes, I even dive off the bed in a harrowing yet heroic attempt to escape. But, it wasn't until last week, when my wife's own nighttime Dew drinking caused her to attack herself following a wicked (Red Sox suck!), strange dream that we decided maybe it was time to set the Dew aside. We will however continue to put it in the kid's nightly bottle, just kidding. I'd be happy to take any suggestions on what we should drink at night now – I'm guessing I'm going to get a lot of votes for warm milk. Feel free to comment also on what makes Mountain Dew so evil. I thought it just caused impotence and I was always OK with that.

Still waiting

Still waiting for my Rockies tickets, still waiting.

Of all the thoughtless, inconsiderate ...

Believe it or not, sometimes the blog ideas just don't come easily. Luckily, we've skimmed through this week on laughing German midgets and screaming toilets. It's election time around here – a season that brings out the best and the worst of people – which makes it a nice warm-up for the holiday shopping season. Of course, the key issue on the Brighton ballot this year is tax money for a baseball stadium and, since it involves "your hard-earned" money, – it has dissolved into an argument about whether this would be a proper use of taxpayer money. I've said it before in this blog and I'll say it again, if this town can say no to a high school while staring at pictures of children being educated in streets because there's no room in the classrooms than this stadium has no chance. I respect the anti-tax folk of this town – the people who would turn down a crippled children's home if it meant a dollar out of their pocket – way to stick to your morals. But this rabble year after year gets old. Same with the drivel starting now that the Rangeview Library District is pulling a bait and switch with its plans for a Brighton library in downtown. Yes, they told us they would add on to the existing library but if they see a better deal, why not go with that. As long as we still get a library and not a 1 percent share in a chain of Popeye's Chicken restaurants, what's the problem?

Imagine if she would have used it

This story would be really strange to me if it hadn't happened in Scranton, P.A. – fictional home to NBC's "The Office."
Apparently, a Scranton woman who allegedly shouted profanities at her overflowing toilet within earshot of a neighbor was cited for disorderly conduct.
Dawn Herb could face up to 90 days in jail and a fine of up to $300.
"It doesn't make any sense. I was in my house. It's not like I was outside or drunk," Herb told The Times-Tribune of Scranton. "The toilet was overflowing and leaking down into the kitchen and I was yelling (for my daughter) to get the mop."
A few random thoughts:
I hope prosecutors don't bump it up to a felony count of aggravated toilet abuse.
Apparently the toilet is being defended by the I.C.U.P. (International Congregation for United Toilets).
How much street cred will this lady have in prison? What'd you do? I screamed at a toilet. Whoaaa!

My funny uncle

This is exclusive footage from last week's regular staff meeting. We're an easily entertained bunch! Pause my music player to enjoy this. I think it's going to become a regular feature.
Laughing German Midget

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The dead guy

One of my least heralded jobs at the paper and I have a few (not counting the occasional toilet plunge) is taking care of our obituary section. I don't write actual stories or do any additional research but I'm responsible for making sure everybody's story gets in the paper with picture and, hopefully, at a reasonable length. And, after working in Brighton for a while, names jump out at me. This week I noticed Albert Hause, the father of local Grammy-winning music producer Butch Hause who I had the chance to meet a while back, had died. And the name Homer Overholt stuck out because he has family at my church and my guess is his obituary only tells half the story because it sounds like he led an amazing life. And then I see names like 7-year-old Paul "PJ" Stokes and, as a parent, my heart breaks because I can't imagine.
I've been feeling reflective as I come up on five years at the paper and I'm going to spend next week reflecting on some of my best and worst moments (just a few) during my time here.

Ho-ho-holy crap! Already?

Was out at Best Buy the other night and I couldn't help but notice the "over-helposity" of the employees there. In a span of less than five minutes – five different employees asked me if I needed help. I'm always suspicious about this. Especially since I could go to a place like Circuit City and literally have to drag an employee away from their ham and cheese sandwich to assist me. Then I started thinking. Maybe I was confused by the Rockies still playing but the holiday shopping season is very much upon us. That's a little frightening to me. The elbowing, the pushing, the foul words and that's just my Thanksgiving family dinner. Yes, the Christmas decorations will be coming out soon once I deflate the 6-foot inflatable Halloween hearse in my front yard. Sound off, people, are you ready for the holidays yet?

Rock on

There's only one thought on my mind today so we're going to keep it pretty simple:


GO ROCKIES!

And vote for song of the week. Not Britney, please not Britney!

A good vibe

I've been coming to work in downtown Brighton for five years (officially in two weeks) but, I have to tell you, driving here this morning I caught a really good vibe. United Lumber is closing (bummer) but the thought of a cultural center with a library and theater is exciting. They're furiously working on the old Brighton Depot and it should be open soon. There are plans for a downtown minor league baseball stadium on the north end of Main Street. I think that would really be cool. The catch is voters will to have approve it. And I hate to be the buzzkill, especially when I'm the one touting the buzz, but I don't see a town that has to have its arm twisted and be beaten over the head multiples times with a large wooden stick (courtesy of United Lumber) in order to build new schools will sign off on a baseball stadium. Hey, but that's just me, mildly cynical. But, I like the feel of downtown now. I like the fact that people have taken the redevelopment effort in to their own hands rather than waiting for the Western Bar (closed by the way) to be become a beacon of cultural renaissance.

Is your refrigerator running?

By now many of you have heard about the Chicago marathon gone bad over the weekend where hundreds of runners suffered heat exhaustion in unseasonably warm Chicago heat and one person actually died. Here's the recount from one surviving runner.
"I was drenched in sweat, completely soaked, after only mile one, and that is very unusual," said Emily Schuster, 25, a New Yorker who had trained for the event since June. "And then somebody collapsed before the halfway point, before even mile 13, and I thought: 'OK, it must be hot, they must be old.' But then at mile 15, there's a stretch where you turn into the sun and run for several miles, and people started dropping like flies. Older, younger, men, women —every couple of steps you saw someone collapsing with ice on their head."
Clearly horrifying and all on the heels of the Denver marathon. I dare miss the chance to quote a line from my favorite movie "The Fugitive" and I'll gladly beckon the stern voice of United States Marshal Samuel Gerard when I say "It's time to stop running!"
How many more people are we going to lose to marathons? How many more children are going to be dragged down the street by some shirtless Mr. Clean wannabee (see picture). It's time we pass federal mandates banning all running unless, in the words of my wife, "you are being chased." It's just not worth it anymore. I know what you're thinking. Will this trigger some kind of prohibition-type backlash where people are secretly running in their basements? Perhaps. But it is a small price to pay to take runners off the street. I'll also enjoy not feeling lazy anymore. Fast walking will, however, still be allowed.

Go Rox

It's time for another fun week. Desperately, wondering how I keep my baseball fix with the Rockies off till Thursday. Baseball fan or not, you can agree there is something satisfying about seeing the Rockies doing so swell. It reaffirms Denver is a baseball town (we're just terribly fair weather sometimes) and it brings my yearly prediction of the Rockies in the World Series (15 years running) closer to reality. The other option is the Broncos. Yuck. Trust me, no one's rooting harder for the Rox in the World Series than the Broncs. How else do you explain fans quietly leaving the stadium yesterday instead of burning Mike Shannahan in effigy? The Rockies surprising run is definitely keeping the heat off the stumbling, fumbling Donkeys. As for any assertions that the Rocks have usurped the Broncos in popularity, give me a break. Broncos fans will quickly return all forsaken loyalty to the Broncos as soon as Pat Bowlen tells them to.

Time flies

The Hinkley High School class of 1997-98 state championship football team reunites tomorrow night at the school homecoming game. I'd be lying if I said I was part of the team – a girl beat me out for the kicker's job. But I'd also be lying if I said the chance to see this group gather again brings back some nostalgia and with it some awe that it has already been 10 years. I can still remember the celebration on a chilly November day as we (as a school) captured the state championship. This is the unofficial kickoff to our 10 year reunion celebration which will culminate next summer with the awkward showing of children's pictures while my wife knee-caps the girl she thought liked me in high school. I'm anxious to soak in all the events of the next year – savor the fact that for a few minutes maybe I can be a teen again – stuffed in a locker by an angry mob. No matter how many times that happens now, it never feels the same.

Flying the unfriendly skies

I'm not a big fan of flying. Some reasons are uncontrollable – a vivid fear that the plane will suddenly plummet to the ground is near the top. But a lot of people don't like flying now – long waits, canceled flights among theirs. Our trip back from Hawaii was a disaster. Our connecting flight from San Fran to Denver was canceled. So we had to catch a short flight from San Fran to L.A. to then catch a plane to Denver but not before that flight was delayed about a half hour while we waited for an additional FAA-mandated flight attendant. For anyone interested in knowing how many flight attendants it takes to pour a cup of coffee, I now know the answer – no joke. But these are the obvious inconveniences of flying right now. You simply realize the tone of flying right now is all wrong. Flight attendants are surly at best – continuing to believe this is actually their flight and we simply keep hassling them. I actually had a flight attendant ask me to remove the diaper I had just placed in her pristine trash bag because I have to throw that away in the restroom which I can't go to because the fasten seat belt sign is on because the pilot is sky surfing again. I can only assume she was going to rummage through the bag later for nickels and uneaten pretzels. On our flight to Hawaii, when our daughter was wide-awake and in need of entertainment, they showed an in-flight movie about a couple ravaged by time and the grueling decision to place one in a rest home. My daughter lost interest quickly. On the red-eye flight back, when my daughter and 95 percent of the other people on the plane were asleep, they showed "Surf's Up" – a charming, animated tale about a penguin competing in a surfing contest. What am I missing? And it's probably the perennial gripe but you shell out hundreds of dollars for plane tickets and then you have to pitch in five bucks more for a snack box or a crummy turkey sandwich. Why are the airlines struggling? You tell me.

Old people be aware of the grill

I must be back because another car just tried to run over mine in the roundabouts – yea. My week long trip to Maui ended yesterday with a demonstration course in why our airlines are struggling (another day, another long blog.) A wonderful trip, if you're a fan of tropical sun and fail safe 80 degree temperatures. And plenty of time to ponder life's pertinent dilemmas – avoiding awkward hot tub conversations with total strangers, trying to keep old people from burning their hands on my barbecue grill (Seriously, old guy, I'm not going to ask you again. If the kid gets it, why can't you?) and wondering why I didn't get Warren Molina to emcee my wedding. Warren, who ran our luau, is my new blog celebrity (I wish I could find his picture) if for no other reason than the fact that he made no attempt to conceal he wanted to rip off the tea leaves of the hula dancers as personal conquests and half the women in the audience too! All with the smile of a used car salesman. More tidbits from my trip to come (just enough to annoy you) and we'll get pick the song back up soon so we can get rid of Don Ho! And to the hackers (it was an inside job) who invaded my blog with artist's conceptions of my trip, thank you.

KAHULUI, MAUI – This is what happens after a week in Hawaii. I want to come back.

My drink diet of the week

KIHEI, MAUI – Hmmmm. Booze.

My diet this week

KIHEI, MAUI – Hmmmm. Nuts.

Shuffle off to Buffalo – not quite

So, here we go, my last blog post before I head off for a week-long vacation in Maui. Stop booing – I don't make the rules, I only enforce them. I like to think of Maui as the Brighton of the Pacific. This is my second trip to Hawaii – I honestly didn't think I'd be headed back for a second time already. The first time was amazing enough. And, as some of you astutely pointed out – the first trip did result in the birth of our daughter. This time, I think we'll get a puppy! Yes, that is Kate Hudson above in Maui – however my wife already made it clear I'm not supposed to talk to her. Aloha – I'll see you in a couple weeks. Enjoy the tiny bubbles.

Friends don't let friends drive ... blind

This story from Columbiana County, Ohio, where police said a local man, diagnosed as legally blind, died after crashing his all-terrain vehicle.
Chief Deputy Allen Haueter said Hoyle was with two friends behind a home on Steubenville Pike when he asked one of his friends if he could ride his ATV.
But Haueter said Hoyle didn’t have a license to drive, and that he was considered legally blind.
Haueter told NEWS9 the men helped Hoyle onto the ATV anyways and warned him to go slow, but Hoyle didn't listen.
“When the men put Mr. Hoyle on there, he took off, full acceleration,” said Haueter. “And they were screaming at him to hold back and stop, and they couldn't catch up to him. Then he struck a smaller tree and he hit a larger one head-on.
His friends, in addition to being stupid, we're also drunk. I love that they encouraged him to go slow. If this story doesn't convince you its time to take ATVs out of the hands of the blind, I don't know what will.

Lack of prayers hamper player's recovery

FINDLEY FALLS, IDAHO – The hopes of this local town's beloved high school football team's championship hopes rested on the feet of prized running back Justin Gelki.
Now that a nagging case of turf toe has sidelined the one-time, touted college prospect, fans are blaming a lack of prayers for his slow recovery and the team's continued struggles.
"People ain't praying enough," said ardent fan and local barbershop owner Lloyd Wessersmith. "If people would have really put some faith time into this, Justin would have been back for the rivalry game against Windam Lake."
Instead Findley Falls, without the fleet legs of Gelki, lost that game to the Bucktooths 69-2 and dropped to a dismal 0-3 on the season.
Rev. Bradley Booth, minister of Findley Falls First Methodist Church, said prayers have clearly been divided in the community since Hailey Jo Perkins, 7, was diagnosed with leukemia and Merlon Jenkins fell off his roof chasing a stray cat.
"Clearly, people are trying to incorporate all these items into their prayers and it's confusing God," Booth said. "Obviously, he doesn't know what we want."
That presumed confusion brought a resolution from the town board of elders last week banning all prayer requests except those relevant to the football team. Petitions for the cheerleading squad to master the grand pyramid are still allowed.
The family of sick, little Hailey Jo said they would temporarily support the ban.
"Hailey Jo's gonna be sick for a long time," said father Clyde Perkins. "If Justin doesn't return soon, this team will be finished by the first week in October. We can't be selfish. Hailey Jo loves that team."
God has had a history of solid results when the prayer message from the town is unclouded. They are repeating division champs and captured a state championship three years ago. In fact, the team hasn't missed the playoffs since 1996 – which many fans blamed on a tragic student bus crash days before the team was set to play in a crucial late-season game.

Tongue depressed

Greetings, my dedicated tiki torches. A brief hiatus last week when my non-West Nile Virus turned into a strep throat which I was under the impression I was immune from being not seven anymore. A couple days of quarantine and I'm as good as new and ready to share the sad tale of one lonely black man wrongly pursued by the police for a crime he didn't commit. That's right, I'm talking about former police squad detective Nordberg who obviously gets no credit from his amazing recovery after being shot repeatedly by a group of Ricardo Montalblan's goons. Nordberg's life has hit a downward spiral since he left Police Squad but here's one fan hoping he can turn it around and stick it to the man.
In honor of my forthcoming trip to Hawaii, you're all getting in on the action. Pick what popular Hawaiian song you want to hear while your stuck in the office and I'm basking on the beach – working on my six-pack ... of beer. Voting ends early this week – Thursday afternoon – so vote soon.
Am I ever excited about the Broncos and the phoniest 2-0 record in the history of the NFL? It's a shame I'll be at a luau in two weeks when the Indianapolis Colts show them how you actually win a football game – something to do with not cheating the other team on a imaginary timeout. Hey cheaters do win, I'll let New England know and then I'll tell Bill Bellichick to stop filming me nude in the shower.
Good to be back.

Nothing's wrong with me, I'm just a hypochondriac

I'm on the mend from a nasty illness that, presumably came from sleeping with the window open on a chilly Sunday night. Fever, aches, pains, headache and grand finale of vomit – it wasn't a particular fun past few days. I'm not someone who relishes being sick – I can't remember the last time I took a genuine sick day. I have about 180 hours of sick time. Plus, my wife will attest I'm the worst sick person in the world – whining, groaning and all that stuff. Factor in my propensity for hypochondria and I'm a real joy. Imagine my wife's excitement yesterday to hear my self-diagnosis of West Nile Virus. I chalk up my hypochondria to my family (I've got an aunt with a bad case of it). I also blame watching ER too much when I was younger – watching people come in with a stubbed toe or nosebleed and leaving in a hearse because of foot cancer or a brain implosion. When I spiked a high fever last summer in Arkansas and had to be admitted to a hospital, I was reasonably convinced I had lung cancer or some other terrible, deadly illness. But, it appears again this time, I've escaped a devastating diagnosis. Wait, I just coughed, what does that mean?

Remembrance

9-11-01

Let her pick the next president

My brainiac of the week award goes to the woman I just heard talking to a Just Brakes employee in a radio commercial while I was driving to work. Her opener to the conversation: "Hello, I think I need brakes for my car." You think? I know brevity is the soul of wit and you get charged by the second in radio, but you want to go ahead and add new in there or maybe even old .... something. Otherwise, I'm going to need to be in contact with this woman when I'm driving so I know when she's coming up on a stop sign or light. And lady, while you're at, ask them if you can get a windshield, some tires and maybe even an engine!

This is a bad idea

Apparently the staff of the University of Northern Colorado football team hasn't learned their lesson about the dangers of competition. Just a month or so removed from the assault conviction of a former punter who stabbed another punter in the leg - one of the most spirited battles ever at that position – the coach has decided to bench starting quarterback Dominic Breazeale for backup quarterback Mike Vlahogeorge. Nevermind, that their names look like an eye chart but this just doesn't sound good. I think UNC, at least based on recent history, should be more accommodating like little league teams. I'm sure the NCAA won't have any problems if you bend the rules and, honestly after the Hawaii debacle, I don't think it matters – if you have three quarterbacks send them all out there, give all 10 wide receivers a shot at the same time and, for all means, let both punters kick simultaneously. I don't want things to get ugly.

So that makes it okay

So Whoopi Goldberg – great in the movie Ghost which I have never seen and certainly didn't cry at – is a new co-host of The View and she christened her debut yesterday by defending Michael "Bad Doggie" Vick and his recent dogfighting confession. Argggh, I didn't think I could actually miss sweet, loud-mouthed Rosie. Goldberg's argument was based on the fact that dogfighting is a cultural thing.
"It's like cockfighting in Puerto Rico," she said. "There are certain things that are indicative to certain parts of the country."
While this may be true, it's also my understanding that slavery and racism were also, at one point, indicative of the South, does that make them all right?
I get so sick of people trying to justify things – this Nature versus Nurture load of bologna.
You know, when someone gets mugged in New York, I never hear, "That's OK, it's a cultural thing." I also have never heard a murder referred to as a cultural issue."
Dogfighting, killing dogs, animal cruelty, that's all wrong, right? North, south east or west!

The deals are great, but the service sucks

While this does say something sad that people are at the Dollar Store on Labor Day, it's also hilarious. Enjoy!
NORTHGLENN – Police say some shoppers at the Dollar Tree called police Monday evening after discovering there were not any employees in the store.
A sign on the window at the Dollar Tree at West 106th Avenue and North Huron Street said the store was closed for the Labor Day holiday. Northglenn Police say a lock malfunctioned and shoppers who apparently did not see or ignored the sign were able to get in.
"(They) were browsing around, doing their shopping and no one was there to ring 'em up so one concerned lady decided that it didn't look right and called the police and we were able to get ahold of a manager," said Ian Lopez with Northglenn Police.
Shoppers told police approximately 15 people were in the store at the time.
"The lights were on inside, music playing in the background so it looks as if it's business as usual, there's just no employees around," Lopez said.
One newstipper told 9NEWS the cash registers were open and empty but police say it does not appear that anything was stolen.
"Luckily for us, it doesn't look like anything was stolen and it shows that people can be honest and good," Lopez said.
Police were able to get in touch with a manager who came and fixed the lock and closed the store.

The pressure is on

Going into the weekend with a three-way pick the music tie. Somebody be decisive out there! Have a safe and happy Labor Day Weekend!

Here she is ... Miss ... something

But, boy, she sure looks swell.

Tag, you're idiots!

Now, that we've effectively wiped dodgeball out of our schools, (The Columbine shooters were apparently traumatized by dodgeball) now comes word that Tag is being taken out as playtime activity in schools across the country including Colorado Springs. School officials cite the emotional and physical toll being taken on students who feel they are being "singled out" in Tag. Hello, it's Tag! Do you know how effective it is when no one chases each other? Zippo! Zilch. These kind of things just baffle me. School districts pay a lot of lip service to overweight kids and the need for more physical activity, then they pull crap like this. "No, no, no, kids, no Tag. Let's go inside and play virtual tag on the computer where nobody's feelings get hurt and have some potato chips, too." The only thing school district's haven't banned, besides recess all together, is anybody being picked last for a team but I'm sure they're working on it.
BTW, the kid in the picture above is never going to catch that girl the way he is running so he shouldn't be allowed to play Tag anyway. And, if that's the best he can do when it comes to tracking down women, then he should look forward to a life of being single and playing Dungeons and Dragons.
10:25 a.m.
I do like his blue pants though, those are stylish!
10:28 a.m.
And it does appear the said girl is on the verge of a nervous breakdown even at the thought of being chased, albeit by a child with no reasonable chance to catch her. I hope she can find a good therapist.
10:33 a.m.
She could use the therapy just as well to come to terms with that Medusa-type hair – I mean do parents not care anymore.
10:35 a.m.
These kids look like poster children for the "How not to dress your children" warehouse.
10:37 a.m.
I'm gathering that this was a reasonable game of Tag but, at this moment in the photo, the boy has spotted the ice cream truck and the girl has not yet realized it.
10:40 a.m.
I mean he's not even looking in her direction. This boy, we'll call him Francis, is the reason Tag is being banned. School officials just don't want to see kids playing this poorly anymore. In my day, we knew how to play Tag. Hell, sometimes we even tagged the neighbors, that was good times.
10:42 a.m.
Does Francis have some cheap rip-off bowl cut? Because that's just about the worst haircut I've ever seen. I bet his mom cut his hair and she was drunk.
10:45 a.m.
Here's an artist rendition of what Francis may look like now since this picture is clearly from the early 80s.

10:46 a.m.
Ummmm, we just got a call from Francis and he wants us to stop making fun of him. He wants his hair back too!

The study of eww, gross

You can also find this in today's Brighton Blade.
We conduct a lot of worthwhile studies in this country. We look for cures for cancer and Parkinson’s Disease and, amazingly enough, we do most of it by smacking lab rats over the head with wooden mallets.
Some studies shouldn’t be done. Some studies don’t benefit us as a whole.
But, there I was last week, faced with the stunning facts on a recent study of how much old people, pardon me while I dive back into my pre-adolescent years and use the term, “do it.”
The study, conducted by the University of Chicago and published in the New England Journal of Medicine, was based on data collected from 3,005 adults ages 57 to 85 during two-hour face-to-face interviews between July 2005 and March 2006. The findings showed that many are sexually active, as long as their health holds out.
In fact, according to the study, in the preceding 12 months, 73 percent of those ages 57 to 64, 53 percent of those ages 65 to 74 and 26 percent of those ages 75 to 85 said they were sexually active. Among those reporting good or excellent health, 81 percent of men and 51 percent of women said they had been sexually active in the past year compared to just 47 percent of men and 26 percent of women reporting fair or poor health. And ….
La, la, la, la, la, fingers in ears, not listening.
Do old people no longer have any dignity? Do we have to question the “Greatest Generation,” if they’re really still the greatest?
Is it necessary to spend countless amounts of dollars grilling old people on their friskiness?
I assume the researchers had more fortitude than I did in broaching this topic. My approach would have been such:
Researcher: So, Ethel, do you, you know?
Ethel: Huh?
Researcher: At night, do you, well?
Ethel: What?
Researcher: Uhhh, let’s start over.
I found much simpler ways to conduct such fact-finding missions a long time ago. You take yourself, add up your respective number of siblings and you have a quantitative data on how many times your parents did that.
Simple. No mess. Precious minds are spared of hearing lurid details. No creepy data on how many times old people still … eww, yuck. Never mind.
Researchers are heralding this data as a way to correlate sexual activity among older people with health, i.e., if you’re dead then you probably won’t be as sexually active as, say, someone who is undead – good news for frolicsome Zombies.
The study also found physicians are less likely to discuss sex with older patients. Researchers said they “found 38 percent of men and 22 percent of women reported having discussed sex with a physician since the age of 50.” The first time I read that, my mind in a tremendous Freudian slip, left out the word discussed. It briefly made a lot more sense why they weren’t wasting any time gabbing about it.
Maybe, I’m the problem here. Maybe my petulant, immature attitude toward older people and their intimate needs is the reason why the subject is regarded as taboo. Maybe, it’s time I respect that older Americans don’t trade in their libido when they get their AARP card.
And more power to them. Keep doing that as long as you can, talk to your physician about it if you want and I’ll be over here in the corner humming the theme from “Love Boat,” really, really loudly.

Where have you gone, Arby's?

No need for alarm, you can still find Arby's at the southwest corner of Bromley and U.S. Highway 85 in Brighton or in your own neighborhood. What you won't find there is roast beef. That's because, over the past few years, Arby's has steadily changed its menu from a salivating line of roast beef sandwiches (Remember the Big Montana? That would have stopped Dick Cheney's heart if he even sniffed it) to a kinder gentle line of fresh sandwiches, salads and I'm guessing they've got a bucket full of sprouts somewhere in there too. They will make the argument that this is in keeping up with the times – challenging Subway, Quizno's and Uncle Charlie's Artery Clogging Factory (currently franchising in Alabama). This is deeper though, it is a deep running prejudice against overweight people. It is the same reason why trans fat is being selfishly being sucked out our chips, burgers and yogurt. I'm guessing the curly fries will be next – probably replaced by broccoli sticks. I will not stand for this travesty. I hereby announce that I'm boycotting Arby's until they bring back the beef.
BTW, pick the song voting is back in the upper right corner. And, for my older viewers (Hey, Steve and Grandma), "Thanks for the Memories" is a new tune so don't be expecting Bob Hope to be crooning away if you overwhelmingly pick that one.

Here you go, hobbits

Despite one Love Boat hijacking and a write-in vote for Elvis Costello, you picked the song. I worry about your taste but, please, enjoy listening to Spock sing about a hobbit all week. Personally, I think I'll turn down the volume but the customer is never wrong. Look for a new pick the song vote tomorrow.

First impressions important

I'm not one to make a mountain out of a molehill when it comes to first impressions. But, I will say, so far, I've been impressed by new Brighton Fire Chief Mark Bodane. He's seemingly open, honest and not the least bit truculent in talking with the media. And, if that wasn't enough, I will say I was heartened last night when it was his mother who pinned his badge on him at his swearing-in ceremony as his father looked on. One of the first people I talked to about Mark in Illinois when he was hired here described him as a great family man. It seemed to reinforce that. As you may or may not know, Bodane's family has stayed behind in Carol Stream, Ill. as they attempt to sell their home.
Mark has a lot of challenges to deal with in the Brighton Fire District. Fortunately, he has a lot of support. The people of Brighton built this fire department with their own hands and they have a lot of pride in it and making sure it stays successful. Here's to a successful tenure for Mark in Brighton.

Pick the Song

It's up to you – pick the song for next week's blog. Vote early and vote often!

From a distance, it looks like you’re a hypocrite

Yea, nothing makes me happier than a celebrity (especially a tree-hugging environmentalist celebrity) being exposed for the trash littering, tree chopping hypocrites they are. So imagine my glee this morning to find the state of Hawaii is considering fines for noted environmentalist and Compost Queen (throw a pickle on her boy, she’s a done) Bette Midler.
She cut down more than 230 trees around the property she owns on the island of Kauai without a permit. I’m sorry she didn’t chop down the trees, someone did that for her. She just sat inside hemming a hemp sweater. The Board of Land and Natural Resources is recommending $6,500 in fines for Ms. Midler. Chump change, no doubt.
The trees were chopped down to, wait-for-it, make a graded road. According to her attorney, Something-something Graham, she didn’t know she needed a permit. That’s so like an environmentalist to not check before they just go all George Washington on a forest. It’s like a vegetarian getting halfway through a burger and saying, ‘Hey, this tastes like meat.”
"The whole idea with cutting the trees down was with the idea of improving the lot with native species" instead of the nonnative, invasive species that had grown there, Graham said.
Even more sad, Midler isn’t a nonnative, invasive species, like so many celebs who take over beachfront properties, Vail and Telluride, she actually grew up in Hawaii.
I’m guessing this is the fault of all of us non-celebrity peons polluting the environment with aerosol cans and clouding Ms. Midler’s brain. I can imagine her frolicking on her treeless property right now, with a bottle of pesticide, singing, “You made me chop down trees, I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to do it.”

My gun's been took, mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!

Now, just a little more than a month since some crazed lunatic entered the state Capitol with a gun claiming to be the Emperor, comes news that the prized black, 9mm Smith and Wesson pistol belonging to the King has been taken.
That's right. Some crazed fan has taken Elvis's prized weapon from his Graceland estate.
Troubling on so many levels. First off, I think federal law prohibits any Elvis fans, especially those Graceland pilgrimage dorks*, from owning firearms, bow and arrows or even frying pans.
Second, I just guess nothing is sacred anymore. People, this is Elvis' crap, leave it alone or you're going to the soap on the jail shower floor version of "Jailhouse Rock."
Third, Elvis is eventually going to come back since he's not really dead and simply sharing an exotic Pacific Island nursing home with Amelia Earhart (not the KOA traffic reporter), Glenn Miller and Burl Ives. And, when he does come back, there's going to be a lot of crazies and he's going to need that gun. So, whoever took it, just give it back and there won't be any questions asked..... I'm waiting. OK, nobody's leaving this blog till we find out who took it. If that gun turns up on Ebay, somebody's getting a spankin.


* This reference to Elvis fans is not to spread any ill will especially toward Elvis fans who may have recently acquired a working firearm.

Does somebody need a card?

There are two things I dread at work. One is the possibility that one of my beloved co-workers or an FOP (friend of paper) would have some bad luck or illness fall on them. The second is that we will need to commemorate their rough patch with a card. Such was one of those times this morning when we learned an FOP had recently gotten some bad news from the doctor. Bummer right. Within an hour, a card already laced with names and messages of sympathy was on my desk waiting for me to add a John Hancock and a little sad face next to it. Hang on, before you label me cold and heartless if you haven't already – but I hate signing cards like that. I'll offer this gripe because I know this particular FOP might share some of my cynicism. Yes, I feel bad but what can I possibly say in a card to make things better. Nothing. So, if 50 of us sign it, will that make it better no. So, why are we circulating a card? Call me a cynic, but I just don't see it making a big diff. If, I'm wrong, offer your testimony to the power of cards and why they helped you in a dark time. I need to know!

Trashed

Before my daily gripe, I'll let you know I'm already more than a little suspicious that I have three amputee blog readers. But, hey who cares, I offer you a hearty thumbs up. So here's the scuttle. Last week when I got home my local trash service had left a nasty note on one of my containers – listing its many offenses. "Too close to the other container," "Facing the wrong direction," "Smelly," and "Used a derogatory term in regards to the trash truck driver's nationality." It came with a warning that I would need to fix these things. There was no ultimatum like them putting the containers on my roof. I was still perturbed. Especially since every Thursday, I can't pull into my driveway because one of my containers, haphazardly dropped, is blocking my path. But my main question is this. If you can fill out a list of grievances, get out of your now automated truck (big arms to big up trash can) and attach it to my trash can, then why can't you just put the trash cans where they need to be for your enjoyment and leave me alone? Thank you.

Don 't be stupid alone, let us join you

By now, you've probably heard about the Frederick priest busted for doing some nude laps around a high school track earlier this summer.
And if you haven't heard about it, congratulate yourself for avoiding the media horde careening up I-25 and U.S. 85 to find out how something so outrageous could happen. And, for lack of better B-roll fodder, television reporters interviewing the goal posts to find out if this public indecency has shaken their psyche just weeks before the football season begins. This story isn't enough for the imagination. We need some footage of the track because, when you think nude jogging priests, you think as ... phalt.
These are the kind of stories that the media lives for. Not only will they make a good tease for your 10 p.m. news because everybody wants to know more about Father O'Flasher but it is the type of story picked up by news outlets across the country eager to to fill a minute or so on their own news casts even though they don't have a clue where Frederick is.
Let's face it, stupidity sells.
And, all by all accounts, this was just a dumb decision. Of course, the hunt is on now to find out if this was stupidity for stupidity's sake or if this was, even worse, insidious stupidity. We must find out if this kind of thing happened before, if there was some warning we missed. We have to play that “What if” game. If only we would have known, maybe we could have put barbed wire on the track fence or put up flood lights. Well, cover your ears for the latest revelation, kids, it sounds like he bared all in his own shower, too.
Granted, in light of the recent uproar over sexual abuse allegations in the Catholic church, a priest should know better than to do a poor Playboy bunny impersonation near a public education facility, even in the middle of the night.
I always think back to those great car insurance commercials where people are doing things like attacking bee hives with weed wackers (rest assured I tried hard to avoid that word in this piece) and the voice over says, “We all do stupid things.”
I'm not rationalizing what this priest did. Priests should keep their clothes on. Sumo wrestlers should keep their clothes on. I should keep my clothes on.
These stories get big play and the media feeds them to you because they know you'll eat up every bite. But, after all the outrage or laughter (the choice is, of course, yours) subsides, do we stop and wonder why this is a story.
Although a ticket was issued, there was no public safety threat here. He wasn't chasing anyone.
I can only chalk it up to being a nation of people who suffer chronic, low self esteem. On any given day, we commit any number of questionable, bone-headed things. Do they fall into the category of running around a track naked? Probably not. Though in college, it wasn't met with such horror, I think we called it Thursday. Seeing somebody else doing something dumb if not dumber than you is a real morale booster.
Sometimes, I'd like to imagine all of the stupid things I do put in the news or, at least in a sitcom. I really think there is a market for someone almost crashing their car because a bee flew in his window or falling off the toilet to reach an extra roll of toilet paper.
So get your chuckles about a naked priest on a high school track.
But then take the dumbest thing you've ever done and picture it rebroadcast over and over again on TV stations across the country, printed in newspapers and hung up on the office watercooler.
Now, who's laughing?