Not everybody’s feeling the love here

The town’s all abuzz, in one way or another:  the Democratic National Convention is coming to town next month. The City fathers and mothers have been gearing up for this for months now. And if their plans work out, I swear that each and every convention delegate will have his/her every step in Denver dogged by a passel of smiling volunteers who want to imprint on their altitude-impaired brain the mantra that “Denver is wonderful; I will spend a lot of money here and go home and tell everyone that Denver is wonderful and they need to come and spend all their money here” help them enjoy their stay.

Of course, there has been constant chatter about the Terrific Economic Benefits that will fall into the laps of all kinds of local businesses. Along with official assurances that downtown will not be essentially shut down by all the security arrangements that are, sadly, necessary for such an event in the 21st Century. Sure it won’t.

Then we have the constant media buzz starring pre-disgruntled pre-protesters who are pre-suing to be sure they get their First Amendment rights and of course all the attendant publicity which is part of their First Amendment rights. Just yesterday a bunch of self-proclaimed anarchists promised they would go away and not protest if Denver spent its $50 million federal grant for security for social programs which would be funny if not so utterly stupid but then the spokesguy for the anarchists got media attention which is the whole point isn’t it?

I don’t plan to leave town during convention week because of work and other commitments. The one potentially cool thing about all of it is that Barack Obama will give his acceptance speech not in the Pepsi Center where the convention will be held, but outdoors in our big fancy football stadium, on the anniversary of Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. Hope we don’t get one of those late summer evening thunderstorms although if it’s timed right it could actually add to the occasion.

Out at the Big Top for my volunteer stint last Sunday, I saw these T-shirts in a shop. I’m not exactly “allergic” to the uproar, but neither have I chugged the Chamber of Commerce Kool-aid about the event. I’m a somewhat interested observer who hopes to give the actual event – and the horrible traffic tie-ups it is going to cause – as wide a berth as I can under the circumstances.

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Random walk through my so-called mind on Saturday morning

Thought for the day from an email, attributed to Helen Keller:

No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars or sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit.

I am going to be optimistic that my puppy will someday be out of this stage of constantly finding things to chew on and EAT. Strange and inappropriate and possibly dangerous things.

Did you know that if you get 5 to 10 ml of hydrogen peroxide into a Shih Tzu puppy he will throw up whatever he just ate? I learned that a few weeks ago.  

My uncle is 89 years old today. Will I live that long? And if I do will I still have the quality of life that he does? Coolness doesn’t age, says the birthday card I found to give him this evening.

I wish we weren’t having such hot weather. Silly me  It’s the end of July in Denver, what do I expect? But I can’t get out on the lanai and use the citrus-based mastic remover in such high temps, because of basic comfort considerations and the instructions on the container. [Two weeks ago I finally tore out the aged crummy green indoor/outdoor carpeting and it left old dried adhesive crud on the concrete floor. I want to clean and then paint the floor, and finally turn the enclosed lanai into an outdoor living space instead of a dump for junk  Pictures may be posted of the project.]

I’ve been busy offline:  puppy-walking, working, volunteering at the Big Top, and now I’m on the board of our condo HOA. Maybe I should just mothball this blog.

Drama queens aren’t as entertaining when encountered in real life as one might think. 

Last night I finally ordered a couple of night stands. Well they are called file cabinets but they are walnut and the right size and have drawers so that an inquisitive puppy can’t grab stuff off the shabby wicker set of shelves (from the old Pier 1 clearance center, I think it was intended as a plant stand?) that’s now serving as my main nightstand.  And anyway isn’t it about time my bedroom wasn’t such a mess of oddball leftover and improvised furniture pieces?

Upside of living as a cliff dweller [in this condo building which is "high rise" style with doors opening onto interior hallways, elevators, underground parking]:  neighbors who take in your UPS packages from the lobby when it’s 7 pm on Friday and you obviously haven’t gotten home yet, and leave you a voice mail that they did it.  

I hope this package is my yoga toes thingie, and now it’s not too early to go down to Wanda’s and get it. Yay!

It really sucks that the toes on my right foot are just not quite right after my 2005-2006 orthopedic saga [broke right ankle June 05, broke 5th metatarsal in right foot April 2006]. But I won’t give up on trying to make them better if I can.

The teevee weather folks are saying that we’ve had a near-record string of days hotter than 90 degrees.  

Thank goodness for air conditioning.

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Wowzer

My amazon Kindle has been a constant companion for the last six days.  In airports, on airplanes, in my hotel room, at home, at a couple of restaurants when I ate alone, and in the doctor’s waiting room yesterday. I’ve read three books on it – all mysteries, my favorite kind of escape from reality.

I’m still mainly using the Kindle to read books. I still haven’t figured out using it to read my email although it’s supposed to be possible, but I have used it for a little web browsing.  

As an e-book reader it’s a winner. After a little use it really has seemed to “disappear” and I’m just focused on the words on the page. Yes, the page. Not the screen. It seems that natural now.

The “wowzer” is not only about the Kindle. It’s about the book I just finished reading on it: I Shall Not Want, by Julia Spencer-Fleming. It’s the sixth in her police procedural series with soap opera overtones (it’s also been called “strongly character-driven”) featuring rugged Russ Van Alstyne (police chief in small Millers Kill, NY), the unconventional Rev. Clare Fergusson (local Episcopal priest and military helicopter pilot), and the elephant in the living room which is their deep attraction to each other. This book rocked and rolled. I forgive a few too-convenient plot twists, because besides some fast and furious scenes of violent confrontations, it had me literally laughing out loud toward the end, and finally sniffing with a few sentimental tears.

There’s an afterword in which the author briefly describes her evolution as a writer. Starting with science fiction, then moving into romance, then finally realizing what she was really doing (whodunits with strong characters). She writes:

I’ve come to believe that the work chooses the writer, and not the other way around. We’re not creators so much as we are dowsers, wandering over the literary landscape until our forked twigs twitch. We dig, and in the digging discover if our wells are sweet or bitter, rock or clay. I thought I was going to be a science fiction writer. I would have liked to write romance. But it turns out that what I’m really good at? Is killing people and hiding the bodies.

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