Chopped Locks

Two days ago I woke up thinking: "I wonder what I'd look like with short hair?"  I was in the perfect mood to try it. I didn't care what the stylist did, or how much she cut, it just needed to be drastically different.

So I chopped it. And I'm still alive. I haven't cried. I haven't gone shopping for extensions. And I haven't mourned those lost locks.  I'd say that's a good forecast so far. 

Endangered Eavesdropping

I can't believe I said that!

On the light rail today this guy behind me started freaking me out.  This is what I overheard from his phonecall:

"I'd only be in jail for 5 days and then I'll be out.  It's a place to stay with a bed.....I don't give a &*^%$$, we just got to get rid of them.....They've %&**# shot people before.......I know some guys who #@!!*owe me a favor...........I'll be in Cali for a while after......"

How's that to get your imagination running? I sat there trying to figure out what to do.  Was this guy about to commit a murder or did I misunderstand? Is this something you report to the cops?  Should I follow him and see what he does and then call the cops?  I decided that wasn't the wisest of choices and opted to sit tight and endure his foul mouth.  Thankfully, he hung up and a minute later he was sitting across the isle from me.

He struck up a conversation with someone and mentioned he'd been sober for 6 months.  "So I don't get drunk. But it's cool, I smoke weed".

Two people hesitantly congratulated him while I blurted out: "Well that's not much better."

Then the lightrail stopped and EVERYONE in my area left. Well, except for Mr. Covered-in-Tattoos-Potiential-Murderer.  He looked at me, stood up, and sat right in front of me.

Crap.

I have been trying this new thing where I'm not super worried about possibly hurting people's feelings anymore.  It has been rather empowering.  I am starting to say exactly what I think without apology or sugar-coating.  So, Instead of thinking that I might have offended him, I decided to ask him more questions. To heck with minding my own business!

I told him what I was thinking about his phone call, and asked if he was planning a murder.  Then I gave him a little advice on not killing people.  We talked about drugs and addiction; and I gave him a piece of my mind about that as well.  And then we started talking.  He shared his desire to get rid of all his tats and become a police officer. I mentioned that blood on his hands wouldn't work well with that dream.  (Funny how they don't think through all the details.  Kids, don't do drugs. It really makes you stupid).  And then our conversation ended with his cheerful "see ya later" as he hopped of the light-rail.

I'm still scratching my head at that whole conversation.  That guy went from a heebie-jeebie giver, to a thought-deprived idiot, to a guy I just wanted to help.  I NEVER thought I would actually have a conversation with the man cursing like a sailor behind me.  I'm glad he didn't stab me. And I admit it felt great to say exactly what i thought.  This may become a new hobby of mine. 

Losing Snow

I got a text message today from my older brother. He was the "bearer" of bad news so-to-say. Snow had died. My Snow. My best and most constant childhood companion.

I can't help but feel I ought to shed a tear and write some kind of memoir in his behalf.

Klondike and Snow were household names growing up. In 1995, Ulu, a very pregnant Polar Bear, gave birth to twin cubs. She promptly abandoned them, and the cubs were left to the care of the Zoo staff.
 

They became instant celebrities. I remember watching the nightly news to hear any updates on my bears. I watched them learn to crawl, fight over a bottle, and go out for their very first walk.
               

And I admit, I was a little obsessed.  I would trade any property on the Denver Monopoly board just to own the Denver Zoo (the cubs had their picture on it).  Unfortunately, my siblings also knew that little fact. And they used it to their advantage in their winning schemes.

As luck would have it, my obsession paid off.  I got my very own Snow for my 8th birthday.  These were a HOT item. Trust me; EVERY kid wanted one.  How could you not like a mini-me of your favorite animal? And just like every child's favorite toy, Snow went everywhere with me.  You should be impressed with how white his fur coat still is.
 

 

Snow was my guard against all my scary night imaginings; including Captain Hook, snake infested hallways, the red-dotted shapeshifter, Edward Scissor-Hands, and a fat white bald guy. And since I'm still alive today I have to congratulate Snow on a job well done. Thanks Snow. You were the best.  And every time I come home, you're still ready for active duty.

But to my dear Original Snow, I hope you're happy up there. You've had a great 17 years goin for you. So in behalf of every 90's childhood in Denver, we sure love you! And for the record, your mini-me and I are still rockin it!

Old Daddy Greybeard.....Do You Dare???

 

While out in a field

this game you will play,

It scared my ancestors

way back in the day.

 

You must stand alone,

Pitch black all around. 

The task? Make it home 

Without being found.

 

Ol Daddy Greybeard.

will be out for a stroll

Guard yourself well

He's after your soul.

 

Quaking and fearful

This phrase you must yell; 

then gird up your loins

and run like

 

Old Daddy Greybeard. 

without tooth or tongue

comes mumbling and grumbling

pray, carry me home

 

PS: for optimum visitation, must repeat three to five times. Participants invite Daddy Greybeard at their own risk.  No soul refunds.