In his second installment of travels with the Sunlight Ski Team, Post blogger Mitch Mulhall laments Julia Mancuso's unfortunate turn at the base of Ruthie's.
Aspen Mountain and Snowmass received over six inches of snow and conditions are improving for the Women's World Cup course on Aspen Mountain. Robert Randolph and the Family Band play at the base of Aspen Mountain on Saturday at 7 p.m. followed by a fireworks extravaganza over Aspen Mountain.
I used to think nothing Marilyn Marks could do would ever shock because I know her and her kind so well.
But Marilyn Marks shocked me today to the bone when I learned she has been contacting our Aspen Post bloggers—and spreading the rumor to at least one blogger that my engagement was in trouble because of the “stress” of working with Post Time News to do stories for Factual Aspen Investigative Reporting (FAIR).
At long last, Marilyn, have you no decency? Is there nothing to which you won’t stoop?
On Sunday, at a ceremony marking the 70th anniversary of Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass), German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, warned against complacency in the fight against antisemitism.
On the night of November 9th, 1938, Nazis savagely attacked, raped, and murdered Jews, smashed the windows of their Synagogues, businesses, homes and even orphanages, and then ransacked and torched them. The next morning, during an orgy of unimaginable violence, tens of thousands of Jews were deported to concentration camps.
Nazis announced that the horrors were inflicted in honor of the birthday of German Monk, Martin Luther, admired by Hitler for his malignant hatred of Jews. Born November 10th, 1483, Luther advocated (as did many others) practices that waxed and waned for hundreds of years before and after his lifetime: eliminating Jewish liberties, confiscating their property, destroying their homes, and burning their synagogues.
addiction: the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma. (dictionary.com)
We've discovered many things in this world that can alter a person's emotional state or excitement level. Most of which fall under the category of...drug. Uppers, downers, street drugs, legal drugs, prescription, you name it. We're constantly surround by them. Even drug-free addictions like shopping, tv, eating, and exercise cause debt, eye-strain, weight-gain, and joint-pain.
For the past few weeks, however, I've re-discovered a truly healthy drug free high. An addiction who's side effects only include an increase in your vocabulary.
The words I said to myself upon the ascension of Alaskan Governor Sarah Pallin were she’s too good to be true.
Hockey mom. Moose-stew maker. Hunter-fisher. Jogger. Motther. Wife. Governor. Right to lifer. Quintessential conservative.
Did we mention Republican John McCain’s veep candidate has a 17-year-old daughter pregnant out of wedlock and a hubbie with a driving-under-the-influence conviction under his belt?
The Con Man finds out about auditions for Aspen Community Theatre's production of "Chicago" from director-choreographer Marisa Post, then turns his attention to Barack Obama's acceptance speech.
I know You’re busy but hey—there’s no way You could be more busy than me. I had to take my first trip on a Gulfstream IV today just to make it in time for my big appointment. You know the one: your pal John McCain picked me to be his running mate—me, a nobody from Nowhere USA who nobody knows but You.
Now I know you’ve been working overtime for me and mine, not just by giving me the Vice Presidential nomination, but also by making my big days the same day as my 20th anniversary and John McCain’s 72nd birthday. But there is something that’s been bothering me ever since I left Dayton—and no, it’s not how Cindy McCain broke her arm or why she always wears those awful colors that show up her husband.
On Aug. 26, 1920, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, guaranteeing women the right to vote, was declared in effect.
My husband and I had an argument just this morning concerning whether activism really works to effect change and whether it really even matters. As an activist myself, I’m personally invested in the belief that it does work and it does matter. My husband is of the opposite opinion. In these all too frequent arguments (usually spurred by the publication of one of my letters to the editor) I often cite the women’s suffrage movement along with the civil rights movement as examples of how grassroots activism leads to changes in social attitudes and government policy.
The Con Man welcomes the premier rock 'n' roll photographer Lynn Goldsmith, then segues into a discussion of Thomas Friedman, and a visit by the Cancer Babes from the Pathfinders survivors group.
Just today, I heard somewhere on one of the news channels that doctors are advocating that kids as young as 7 start taking cholesterol-reducing meds and that parents should start getting their kid's cholesterol levels checked by the age of 2!
I took care of my disabled mom during the last 10 years of her life. Her main problems were arthritis and heart disease. While doing my duty as a caretaker, I did a lot of research on how to help her. I found the "Life Extension Foundation" to be my most valuable resource on different nutritional remedies and the latest research on various illnesses and/or longevity. I/we were using things like shark cartilage, melatonin and glucosamine long before the general public even knew such things existed.
There is something about the name Cape Foulweather that fascinates me. My mind races with thoughts ranging from the history of the area and wanting to know the facts, to images of a full length feature film of mystery and suspense starring Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino and Jack Nicholson. I wish there was an actual town of Cape Foulweather. I would consider renting a house there while I wait to purchase my sloop or ketch.
The name itself, Cape Foulweather, doesn’t bring the idea of a warm sunny day to the average tourist. The truth is that Captain James Cook discovered and named the Point in 1778 when he first sighted the mainland of North America on the Oregon Coast, and one of the sudden fierce storms, which greeted his arrival, almost put an end to his historical expedition. Captain Cook never set foot on land at Cape Foulweather and couldn’t wait for the storm to pass so he could set sail again and leave this area. I have just the opposite draw to Cape Foulweather, even if there are winds up to 100 mph a few times each year.
I leaped at the opportunity to sail to the Point after we scrapped the idea of our Wednesday Night Regatta in Yaquina Bay in Newport, Oregon when there wasn’t even the slightest hope of a breeze strong enough to fill the sails for us to race. We placed our bets on the wind currents out at sea, as unpredictable as they always are, once we left the bay under power and raised the sails heading north a few miles to Cape Foulweather. The sea was as flat as I have ever seen it. Barely a ripple slapped against the boat. We were under power while we tried to catch some wind. Finally a whisper of wind became just strong enough for us to cut the engine and use full sails. It was slow going and unusually quiet. Seagulls were passing us the way a Lamborghini zips past a Geo Metro with an 8 watt blow dryer motor.
It was a short trip, even at our slow pace, but it was enough time spent on the sea to remind me that I don’t really care much about regattas and racing as much as I do spending quiet time in reverie on the sailboat. Since 1965 I have had my share of fast cars. But that’s another story for another blog. Boats are in a different category for me when it comes to speed and purpose.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’m older, wiser, and no longer in a hurry for my days to pass by quickly. Time seems to stand still when I’m sailing. I forget that there is already an influx of tourist traffic on Hwy 101. I don’t think about how long it takes me to drive home from Newport to Lincoln City. The sun doesn’t set until after 9pm here in the Pacific Northwest. It isn’t dark until well after 10pm, so my days are longer and my nights are very short. I don’t get much sleep and I can use all the siesta time kicking back on the boat, listening to a sail flap when it loses its wind now and then, and I have to do some quick tacking to avoid turning the engine back on.
One of my co-workers who has been sailing for over 25 years here told me he became a little bored with sailing. He said, “What can you do? You leave the bay, you go straight for a little while, then you either turn left or turn right. There’s nowhere to go.” I reminded him that it’s not the destination that matters. It’s the journey. Even if that journey only takes you a few miles to the left or the right. It’s a journey filled with valuable time that rejuvenates the heart and soul of expatriated Woody Creek dreamers like me.
There is something about the name Cape Foulweather that fascinates me. My mind races with thoughts ranging from the history of the area and wanting to know the facts, to images of a full length feature film of mystery and suspense starring Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino and Jack Nicholson. I wish there was an actual town of Cape Foulweather. I would consider renting a house there while I wait to purchase my sloop or ketch.
I leaped at the opportunity to sail to the Point after we scrapped the idea of our Wednesday Night Regatta in Yaquina Bay in Newport, Oregon when there wasn’t even the slightest hope of a breeze strong enough to fill the sails for us to race. We placed our bets on the wind currents out at sea, as unpredictable as they always are, once we left the bay under power and raised the sails heading north a few miles to Cape Foulweather. The sea was as flat as I have ever seen it. Barely a ripple slapped against the boat. We were under power while we tried to catch some wind. Finally a whisper of wind became just strong enough for us to cut the engine and use full sails. It was slow going and unusually quiet. Seagulls were passing us the way a Lamborghini zips past a Geo Metro with an 8 watt blow dryer motor.
