Yes, I’ve been slacking. Partially due to the great Mac meltdown of 2010 that occured the day I got into Denver last week and partially because the technology fail forced me to remember that unplugging and being fully absorbed in the moment without one hand feverishly plugging away at the iphone or keyboard is sometimes really nice.

Unfortunately, for those of you anxiously awaiting an update on the great wedding dating experiment, I got nothin. I got into town and quickly realized that catching up with and hanging out with old friends is something I’ll take any day over playing dating roulette with the single folks at a wedding.

What I did confirm in the last week is that baseball games and amusement parks are prime breeding grounds for dousche beacons. Where do these folks come from??

We took in an afternoon baseball game at Coors Field on Sunday. The plan was to grab lunch and a few beers, hit the game, then find some trouble for the evening. …and that is what we did, but there were a few curve balls along the way. First, we went to a favorite downtown Denver drinking establishment, the Falling Rock Tap House. I kept pointing to beers I was going to order and Erik kept cautioning me against them because of their high alcohol content. After all, it would be a long day (I opted not to brag about my marathon drinking abilities, as I have learned that this doesn’t necessarily impress people…and I also learned that back at high altitudes, my abilities are severely comprimised). Ultimately Brie and I let a friend from the bar choose our beers and ironically he brought us the beer on tap with the highest alcohol content. That set us off at a good clip.

Ruphie Beer

At the game we took our places in the coveted seats along the third-base line and settled in for some beer and baseball fun…along with people watching. On 4th of July there are always some extra special outfits.

I will be the first to admit… there were probably some people that were “people watching” us too. Afterall, we are pretty freaking cool… that and Andy likes to yell things like, “Win this one for America, Helton!” (He was the first one out of the gate that day, if you know what I mean).

Happy Fourth

After the 7th inning stretch, everyone starts to get a little antsy. It’s when they stop serving beer, so you just hope for a quick two innings to maintain the happy feeling. Little did we know that this game would go on as many innings sans beer as with the tasty beveridge. We had the cute kids in front of us to entertain us for about 10 minutes, but the game ended up being the longest game in the history of Coors field. Yes, we are talking about sitting in a baseball stadium for 5 hours and 24 minutes. I can drive from Austin to Houston and back in that amount of time. Thank God we started with the Ruphie beer, so we were able to ride it out longer than usual. Brie and I finally bailed at the 14th inning to drink Jameson while the guys saw the last inning through. I’m pretty sure our departure is what finally pushed the Rockies to put up a W in the 15th.

The kid we briefly adopted in the 10th inning

 I could go into detail on all the other Denver adventures, but in the interest of being brief and with a somewhat “what happens off the grid, stays off the grid” aire, I’ll just say they included:

  • me agreeing to be shot in the air by a sling shot while strapped inside a giant metal hamster ball
  • impromtu homemade toga making contest
  • a gorilla suit
  • three unfinished games of yahtzee
  • a pedicure that might last until my next birthday
  • watching two rich Asian dudes suck down a magnum of sake and 3 big bottles of champagne
  • several fantastic meals (I didn’t even know I liked brussel sprouts)
  • and so as not to disappoint you with a whole week without incident, I did stick my head into an operating ceiling fan (not under the influence). Only a tiny cut resulted. Could have been worse. Could have lost a head or been swooped up with the nastiest of hair tangles.

Not too shabby for a trip that started out with me missing a plane (don’t ask me how I feel about the Southwest boarding process) and running through Pheonix with 7 bloody toes.

The Hamster Ball

 Am now back in soggy Austin, playing the new records I brought back from Twist and Shout and unsuccessfully attempting to complete the Mac data recovery process (and my own data recovery process).

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