Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Protest as Foreplay

WSF is taking off down a twisted line of thought. You have been warned.

One aspect of public protests, especially violent ones, that hasn’t been mentioned is sex. Let me go back in time to explain.

During the Vietnam War, I was a college student using the GI Bill, and part of a group of veterans who’s point of view was, “Go all in or get the hell out”. No micromanagement by bean counters safely tucked away in Washington, D.C. who made damn sure their sons weren’t drafted. We made most of the antiwar demonstrations.

We quickly learned the young lasses got turned on by the demonstrations. The after demonstration parties were often epic. A few hours of, “Hell no we won’t go” shouting and glaring at the police loosened inhibitions.

You can take it to the bank the current protesters leave the protests and go off and screw themselves silly. One hell of a motivator for getting involved. Issues? Who cares! I want to get laid.

Oh, WSF, you are such a cynic. True, I was born a cynic.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Respect??? Why?

A police officer showing disdain for traffic rules makes it difficult to respect other police officers.

What follows is a turn by turn description of the operation of a police motorcycle I observed today.

Today, at Denver International Airport, about 1255, turned left on East 75th Ave from Undergrove St. and headed west.  East 75th serves the airfreight and general aviation side of DIA. The speed limit is 45 mph. Soon I had a Denver Police Department officer on a motorcycle behind me. I wasn’t concerned because I had the cruise control set to the speed limit.  Didn’t stop him from following me way to close. Then, just past DHL, he crossed a double yellow line and blew past me. As he turned North on Jackson Gap Road he didn’t use his turn signals. Jackson Gap at that point has two lanes Northbound as it goes under Pena Blvd. He zipped over to the right lane. When the light turned green he accelerated and moved over to the left and the left turn lane to Westbound Pena Blvd. Again, no turn signal. He then flew Westbound on Pena across four lanes and pulled into a favorite honey hole across from the cell phone lot. 

I don’t think any case could be made that he was on an emergency run.

This officer may have a commission card and a badge but is, to me, just a fucking revenue generator along with the other five officers working within a four mile radius of the West side of DIA. YMMV

Am I anti-police? Hell no. I have  the greatest respect for peace officers. Not so much for cops.

Sunday, August 13, 2017


Thank you, but no thank you. Way too old to put in eighteen hour days, day after day. My response to a recent phone call.

From 2002-2005 my employer, Steve Lance, went from a successful used truck and new stock and utility trailer dealership to starting from scratch four Kia dealerships. Along the way several more used car lots were added.

Steve is an intense former professional bull rider from Medicine Lodge, KS who has made and lost millions of dollars.  He decided we should conduct off site sales around Colorado. After the first, not real successful sale, he and his General Manager, Greg Miller, dragooned me for the job of organizing and supervising the program. My first requested title, “Chief Cat Herder” was rejected and I became the “Roadshow Wrangler”.

 Over the next three years we held sixty sales in twenty six different Colorado locales.

The phone call was from someone in the industry asking if I have an interest in doing it again. Not the first call of this nature I’ve received, and it is flattering, but my response is always, “Thanks but no thanks”.

A typical sale. This one in Trinidad, CO.

The motor home used as a mobile office.

My youngest with his first new car. He wasn’t pleased to have his picture taken. He bought it on his own with no help from me other than getting a smoking deal.

As an aside, Steve Lance had his name prominently displayed everywhere. It wasn’t ego. As he explained to me, if someone was dissatisfied, he wanted them to know who to talk to. His constant directive to me was, “Do it right, do it legal, and don’t cut corners”. 
Maybe that was one reason 30-40% of our customers had bought from us in the past.

That whole offsite sales business was a high point in my business life. That said, I don’t want to do it again.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

The (P)regressive's Long March?

A favorite site for Colorado specific political opinions has a new posting regarding the rebranding of the ‘Democrat” Party.

Mentioned at the end was Ken Salazar.

This is an individual ruined, in my opinion, by the deep government Washington, D.C. swamp.

He comes from humble Southern Colorado Hispanic roots. A hard working family that bootstrapped their way out of poverty while remaining humble, his wife was still owning and operating a drive in restaurant in a Denver suburb when he was elected U.S. Senator.

In Washington he shared an apartment with his brother, a one term Congressman who traveled his district in a personally flown 1966 Cessna 182 that was no cosmetic prize.

Obama made him a cabinet appointee. In the aftermath, he went over to the dark side.

I’m still pissed I not only voted for him, I was a campaign volunteer. 


The last stand of the Jeb!s?

Sunday, August 6, 2017


A remarkable young lady shared a bit of her life with me and her courage impressed me.

While waiting for the chaos that is the Air General Airfreight Agency operation at DIA, struck up a conversation with a young lady waiting to ship a hamster. She was wearing a leg brace and I remarked on it. She had several obvious finger bruises on her exposed arms.

She explained she has brittle bone disease. The bruises were from her caregivers. She was going back to her parents in Atlanta.  The caregivers were arrested. One had active warrants. Seems the agency providing the caregivers hadn’t done their due diligence.

What struck me was her voice and demeanor. Not the slightest trace of self pity. Just a calm and friendly way of speaking as if discussing nothing more earth shattering than the weather.

The hamster was in an obviously new carrier with a small attached water bottle. Most people in her situation wouldn’t concern themselves with a small rodent. My guess is that she had assumed responsibility for the hamster’s life and well being and wasn’t going to abandon it.

As I drove away I felt humbled. What a courageous person dealing with a terrible situation! Medically conditions be damned, some young man is missing a grand opportunity if he doesn’t court and marry that young woman.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Nostalgia Roads

The North Park, CO hay fields of my callow youth. Looks like they only have half cut and it is already August. tsk, tsk

 A pass my forefathers used extensively. As few days before going into the Army, I saddled a horse at my parent's 'ranch' in Steamboat Springs and rode over to my relatives ranch in the header picture. Damn horse stepped on my left foot, broke my little toe, and I went through basic training with a broken toe.

Several years later my youngest badly sprained an ankle in basic training. Sucked it up and moved on to medic school.

The town of Steamboat Springs from Buffalo Pass in the left center. Look for the ski jumping hill. Both my sister and I are Steamboat Springs High School graduates.

Hahns Peak. Large dappled grey draft horse caught my eye. I like draft horses. 
 Then I saw the hoofs. Pisses me off to see a neglected animal. None of the horses in the corral looked like they are fed properly.

Wet winter followed by a good rain year has left the Hog Park Reservoir near Encampment, WY full on the first day of August. Very unusual.
Lots of beetle killed pine but the spruce are started to fill in. Cycle of life.

Back to the grind. I was surprised to see zero moose, elk, or deer on the trip. A pronghorn along side the highway outside of Encampment did raise the pulse rate as he couldn't decide if crossing the highway in front of me was necessary. Usually pronghorn show better judgement. As the saying goes, a miss is as good as a mile.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Back On Grid

My mother passed away recently. Dementia and Alzheimer had put her in a near vegetative state for several years but her tough constitution kept her hanging on. We had her cremated. Monday we placed her remains in an aspen grove in view of Hahns Peak (CO), a place with special meaning to her, and us.

Just a small gathering. My sister, niece, her daughter, and her husband.

Now it is back to work.

Hahns Peak was an area of mining activity in the late 1890-1930 era. While not as big as other mineral strikes in Colorado history, up until 1916 it was a county seat. One set of great grandparents traveled by wagon for three days to see a judge in Hahns Peak and get married. Family lore says the couple would remark,

"When we started, we didn't need to get married. By the time we got there, we did".

Cynics in the family, including me, think the trip needed to start about a month earlier.