Dear Sewards:
You know that note I was going to leave behind for your in our kitchen? The one that explains all the place to go to eat in the valley? Well here goes--for all the world to see.
Continue Reading Add comment December 20th, 2007
I remember one particular morning, only a few days classes ended, I bought a pink carnation for a French girl named Jasmina from the flower vendor outside this station. She stripped the leaves from the stem and broke it off to a pencil length and tucked it behind her right ear, pulling her thick amber hair away from her face so everyone could see her smile. The vendor kept his cart on the triangular court outside the entrance. He had carnations, marigolds, chrysanthemums, peonies, roses and a variety of other flowers so numerous that a stroll past Gloucester Road station was a veritable riot of colors and fragrances. Jasmina and I would walk slowly by the flower cart on the way to morning classes because the fragrances and colors were especially vivid in the crisp morning air.
Continue Reading 2 comments December 15th, 2007
A hill descends into St. Johns, Arizona, Route 180, on the eastern end of the state. Little did I know, I was descending into hell. My traveling companions John, Mike, and Kevin were ahead because I had stopped to fix a flat tire.
Continue Reading Add comment December 12th, 2007
ASPEN, COLORADO (Post Time News)—There’s no debate over the need for more office space for both Pitkin County and City of Aspen employees.
But if such a building were to be built downtown on the Zupancis-Galena (Z-G) property owned by the City, taxpayers can expect to endure years of Main Street construction, more traffic at the entrance to Aspen, and a bill for the new building approaching “$50 million to $60 million”—a cost at least $13 million more than building an equivalent structure on land owned by Pitkin County at the Aspen Airport Business Center (ABC).
Continue Reading 5 comments December 10th, 2007
Today was my 1st day on the mountain as I am sure it was for most of the people on the hill. Perfect! It was awesome.
The mountain was packed and the lines were long but it was worth the wait to get some runs in. What a way to start off World Cup week. I am sure the ladies will be excited to see all of this lovely snow.
Continue Reading Add comment December 2nd, 2007
Inside, the room looks like a scene from a black and white, 1930s movie—Casablanca maybe. The carpet’s aqua and mauve fern shapes have faded into its slate gray background. A triangular path connects the double-entry doors, front desk, and elevator. The carpet may well have been put down during the 1930s. In each corner, an aqua saucer-like light fixture hangs from the ceiling by a dusty white tube. None of the lights is on, but each dangles over a sofa, two or three easy chairs, and a coffee table arranged in conversation groupings. On either side of the lobby, tarnished brass tubes suspend lazily rotating ceiling fans that do little to dispel the stagnant feel of indoor midday heat. Wallpaper with thin blue and white vertical stripes wainscots the walls, but not around the elevator shaft. It is chalk white, like the balance of the walls and the ceiling. I follow the carpet path to the front desk and wait for the clerk to finish a phone conversation.
Continue Reading Add comment December 1st, 2007
Sure, it was my idea, as it usually always is. It turned out very well, incredibly well, actually. I couldn't have asked for more. I had this incredible lake to my right, and a serious vertical ski slope a hundred yards in front of me as I soaked in the hot tub on our third floor balcony. This was about as close to Heaven on earth as i could summise.
First of all, my first name is indeed Bobby. The girls always loved that name. My mother, as screwed up as she is, is probably the only person who ever actually called me Bobby. Personally, I hated that name. I thought it too feminine, too gayish, too, ... well not worthy of a guy as comfortable on a horse as I was running over defensive backs. Yet, as I come to grips with turning 40 next month, I am also coming to grips with much more. Honestly? I like the name Bobby. Kind of sexy isn't it? Hah.
Continue Reading Add comment November 30th, 2007
Each year, at the height of Aspen’s ski season, the Aspen Music Festival and School presents a stellar line-up of classical music’s top artists as part of its winter Artist Recital Series in Harris Concert Hall, giving this tiny mountain town a unique opportunity to see, and hear, the very same artists that appear at the world’s most prestigious venues.
The Series opens February 12 with Aspen favorites cellist David Finckel and pianist Wu Han, presenting a rich program of works by Schubert, Webern, Beethoven and Brahms. Finckel, also a member of the acclaimed Emerson String Quartet, and Wu Han rank among the most esteemed and influential classical musicians in the world today. Their duo performances have garnered superlatives from the press, public and presenters alike.
Continue Reading Add comment November 29th, 2007
T. S. Eliot used to ride this elevator on his way to work each morning. The offices of Faber & Faber were just off the northwest corner of Russel Square, if I recall correctly. Russel Square should be easy to find, and there should be some benches on which I can sit and gain my bearings, but I’m not sure. Either memory doesn’t serve, or fatigue is taking its toll.
After about a half-minute, the elevator slows to a crawl, and with a jolt, it stops. The steward cranks an old brass handle, and the leaved inner-doors fold open with a quick staccato clap. Then the outer-doors slide open. The two sets of doors make an interesting contrast between old and new.
Continue Reading Add comment November 24th, 2007
I remember the day we went to Wimbledon—I’d never seen a grass tennis court before, and I haven’t seen one since. I look around for another poster of a familiar place and find an advertisement for “The London Dungeon—the world’s only medieval horror museum”—blood-red letters on black, with a blood-red skull to the right of the text. The dungeon’s not that scary—it’s kind of like a wax museum. They’ve draped a few stuffed bodies from rafters and packed wooden cages with Norwegian wharf rats—supposedly the species responsible for the Black Plague. I don’t think I’ll make it back.
Continue Reading Add comment November 17th, 2007
