Closet is Clean!

I finally got my closet cleaned up and I no longer feel like Indiana Jones walking into the Temple of Doom when I go after clothes in the morning. Now, I have a ton of clothes to press, hang some pictures, find a table and chairs and my apartment will be complete! Go Indy!

Ciao! FEMA Director Resigns

Just in! FEMA director Michael So and So Drop the Ball resigned today. Granted, the response to Hurricane Katrina was awful, but the nation must move forward in a positive manner, helping out the affected areas as much as possible. So think about what one can do to help out and get going. But for you Michael, don't let the door hit ya on the ass on the way out.

I Heart Loveland!

I picked up my first pass for the upcoming snowboard season this weekend: The Loveland Frequent User Card! Quite the great deal, so check out their website, http://www.skiloveland.com, and get in on the action!

I started snowboarding a few winters ago and cut my teeth at Loveland, beating the hell out of myself learning to ride and have been back a few times (I have beat the hell out of myself year in and year out, but not always at Loveland). Loveland is often overlooked or looked at quickly as you head to the larger summit resorts, but overall, Loveland is a great place to ride, a laid back, no pretense atmosphere and great terrain. So slap your "I heart loveland" bumper sticker on you're massive SUV and check it out.

--jim

Hell and the ATM Machine: A Memoir

I remember summers ago, probably the summer of 2000 or 2001, James and I were at an ATM machine (I use to call ATM’s ATM machines and caught all kinds of hell for the redundancy of such a saying). It was a drive through ATM and we were like the fourth car back and the car at the ATM was taking FOREVER. James eventually loses his cool and starts honking. Anyway, the car at the ATM finishes (like after 10 minutes), whips around and pulls up to the car in front of us and starts berating that car for honking at him, whereas James was the guilty party (of course, James and I just sank in our seats).

I thought of this story a few nights ago when I was at a Wells Fargo ATM. I walked into the enclosed ATM at the entry of the Wells Fargo building as the drive through ATM looked like it had a real long line and there were only two people at the in-doors ATM, one using the ATM and the other filling out a deposit envelope. I thought I was good to go, but soon realized the wait would be long, really, really long. The guy filling out his deposit envelope looked like he had trouble reading the checks he was to deposit, kept scribbling out one thing on the deposit envelope and writing something else, cursing to himself and other disturbing things. I found myself backing away from him as he continued to scribble on the envelope (I’m surprised he didn’t cut off his ear and deposit it. Was that Van Gogh?) Eventually, this guy gets his turn and I swear, watching him trying to use the ATM was like watching our president trying to articulate a four syllable word: painful. Eventually he gets it figured out and leaves, allowing me the 30 seconds I need to deposit a check.

I hate ATM’s, but only when there is a line in front of me, because god’s punishment to me is that I must stand behind the most challenged of bank users while waiting for the ATM. I almost feel guilty if I use the ATM for more than two minutes, but there are people that I swear stand in front of the ATM for 10-15 minutes. Is there a secret screen I don’t know about or a new feature to check your email? My hell will be filled with ATM’s, people who try to walk in the elevator as you are walking out and people who stand in the walking part of those moving walkways at airports.

I’m outta here like a fat kid in dodge ball—jim

Git er' Done, Tex!!

What did it take, like 5 or 6 days for the Natl' Guard to roll into New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina? I don't care what your rational is, that is pathetic. I did hear Bush on the radio a few mornings ago talking about sending choppers' asap. Wow, choppers', git er' done there, tex!

Tom Petty, Why Won't You Sing "Waiting for Tonight?"

Last night I caught my second Tom Petty show in as many nights (the first show Tuesday night was fantastic, but Wednesday stands out) at what has to be one of the best places to catch a concert, Red Rocks. Becky and I headed out at about 7pm, grabbed a couple drinks from the car and started the walk up to the amphitheatre, making it for the Black Crows’s, the opening act, encore. I must say, I didn’t have a huge desire to see the Black Crows, but they put on a pretty good show—lots of energy for sure. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers eventually come on and put on an amazing show. Super great music, some great covers, ripping through I’m Crying by the Animals, getting involved with the audience and such; Petty and the Heartbreakers killed it. I could go into great detail about the show, the music, performance or this or that, but a slight distraction during the concert warrants the attention of the blog today.

There is this mom and what appears to be her kid in the seats next to Becky and me. Note, the mom appears married or at least is wearing a wedding ring. Anyway, show starts, mom is dancing and begins to dance with this unrelated guy (from now on refereed to as strange dude ) next to her kid. Things escalate and the mom and her new guy, the strange dude, wander off, a couple times! Eventually, the kid and the strange dude wander off by themselves, our presumption is that they are going off to get stoned, or then again, maybe not as everyone just smokes in the rows anyway. Ok, so the strange dude comes back MINUS the kid and sits down, clearly out of his mind. The mom gets right in his face and this guy can barely talk, just gesturing that the kid might be “over that way.” Also note Red Rocks has about 10,000 drunk and/or stoned party people going crazy over Tom Petty. Mom, upon the mumblings of son being lost, rockets off in the crowd. Strange dude blows it off and starts dancing with some other random woman (this woman did not appear to have a kid with her, so it was nice to see that strange dude does not discriminate). Eventually, the kid reappears out of the blue, clearly messed up, but mom is still no where to be found. Mom returns with half the Colorado National Guard (In a drunk, stoned tone, “Excuse me officer, I let my son wander off with a complete strange dude, can you help me find him?”) only to find her son back in his seat. Officers all leave, in disgust mind you, mom yells at everyone, then starts dancing again, although you can tell that temporarily losing her son was a buzz kill. The Encore kicks off and here is the icing on the cake, mom leaves with son half way through a blazing performance of American Girl. I wonder if the mom had her son drive her home, hitting up 7-11 for some nachos (because KFC surely would be closed at that hour).

Overall, I can’t even describe the blast at the concert, even with a little family drama. I’m keeping all my Red Rocks parking secrets safe at this point! Oh, and I still have never heard Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers perform my fav song, "Waiting for Tonight!"

An Open Letter to Jimmy John's--I Will Never Leave You!

Dear Jimmy John's,

For years, you have picked me up on a rainy day, helped me celebrate the big occasion, clogged my arteries like I'm drinking melted butter and one can't deny your ability to ruin a nice dress shirt with your fantastic fillings.

I love Jimmy John's and am so excited Denver finally has one--no more driving to Boulder for me! I was first introduced to Jimmy John's during the fall of 1999, my first year of grad school at Purdue University (go Boilers!). The place was actually on the way home from class and I would treat myself to a No. 12, the "Beach Club," nearly every Friday on my way home from class. I'd get home, read the college football preview from USA Today, drink a coke and eat some BBQ chips. If was feeling good about myself, I would allow myself to take a nap, let all that shit I just ate turn to fat, wake up and do homework and read into the AM hours (remember I was in grad school!). I remember one time, a prof had his class over for dinner and drinks--go drinks!--and his wife made this wonderful bread. Eventually, I realized the bread was from Jimmy John's, the same bread they use for their subs, and the wife disguised it as her own. I can't blame her though as their bread is that good.

A quick breakdown on my favorite sub from Jimmy John's, the Beach Club: 381g, or 13.4 oz light, 784 calories, 40g of fat, 72g of carbs, enough sodium to kill a nutritionally deprived child (1478g), 61mg of cholesterol (isn't cholesterol French for goodness?), and on the plus side, 32g of protein. If this doesn't have health and fitness written all over it, I don't know what does. I guess you would have to breed a big mac and whopper, raise their baby on a diet of mayo and bacon and toss that creation in a vat of grease, all wrapped in battered beer crust. Must be served with a diet coke.

I will never leave you Jimmy John's, but will continue my affair with Blimpie's.

--j kennedy

Moonlight Classic--Classic ER Trip!

On Saturday night, Becky, my friends Shad and Liz, and a few others, did the Moonlight Classic bike ride—a 15 mile jaunt through the downtown Denver area. After leaving my friend’s, Deidre O’C’s, awesome BBQ, Becky and I saddled up our bikes and met our other friends by the capital for the beginning of the moonlight classic bike ride, a charity ride covering 15 miles of downtown. We all start OK and are having a blast, checking out all the cool costumes and catching up with each other. A lot of people dressed all fun, all kinds of light arrangements on the bikes and such. Now, the ride is crazy in the sense that about five to six thousand people do it, so you can imagine how hard it might be to ride and concentrate.

Anyway, at University and Bonnie Brae, by the Campus Lounge bar at that intersection, I was riding next to my friend Liz when an out of control rider came off the curb on her bike (mind you, this rider had no helmet on, no lights or anything) and crashed into the side of my bike, smashing me to the ground. I hit my elbow, hip and head real hard. Luckily, Liz nor anyone else went down in the wreck. However, I was way less fortunate. After I came out of my quick blackout from the hard hit to my head (the blackout, by the way was frigging weird—maybe it was the light at the end of the tunnel, yeah right), I looked up to see all my friends and a bunch of others standing over me. Eventually I sat up to reveal a large puddle of blood from where my helmet cut into my head (even though the bindings of the helmet cut into my head, I would probably have to be fed through a straw and wear Depends had I not been wearing a helmet!). Some random guy, a “professionally trained first responder” was trying to be a MASH cast member, but was causing more damage than good and was trying to stick his exposed dirty fingers into my wound. I told him to get away from my head and he stormed off like George Clooney leaving ER for the movies.

An ambulance eventually came, told me I needed to get to an ER for stitches (as I know stitches require shots and needles, my response was to put me head in my hands and utter lots of expletives), but the ambulance workers, who were awesome by the way-I wish I remembered their names, told me that I could get myself there. While in the ambulance, or what I referred to as a “hospital bus” during my head trauma, we arranged transportation to the hospital (thanks Deidre!!) Three hours later, I walked out of the Porter Hospital ER with nine staples holding the 3-4 inch gash on the back of my head closed, a bottle a vicodin, a clear cat-scan and a great appreciation of my friends and bike helmets. The ride, before the crash test dummy sidetrack, was a lot of fun and I am looking forward to trying it again next year, with maybe full body armor on, I could be a knight as my costume!

On a side note, my friend James did a similar ride in St. Louis on Saturday night as well and actually completed the whole deal, which is awesome considering James still has training wheels on his huffy BMX (kidding, James has a big wheel. Ok not kidding, James is kicking ass at biking on a normal bike!).

In light of the whole incident, here are a few things I learned: 1. Your friends are more important and dedicated than you may ever realize. 2. ALWAYS wear a bike helmet, whether doing crazy type rides or scooting along an easy going trail. 3. When riding by a bar with a ton of bikes parked out front during a charity ride, be very careful and move away from traffic. 4. A cat-scan is not that scary. 5. Purdue should win the Big Ten--Go Boilers (see, in blackout land all your wildest dreams come true, it’s like Pedro has become class president!)! 6. Don't let wannabes stick their gross, dirty fingers in your open head wounds and don't take shit from cops flashing their lights in your friend's eyes, to compare them to your dilated eyes!