Courtesy of Kevin Howdeshell, kevincredible.com
A brand new batch of Colorado ‘whine’ gets brewed around the Rockies each fall. Equal parts tourist-overload, “I’m-a-local” grandstanding and barroom bitching, it seems to hit the saturation point sometime around September, when the lingering effects of the summer heat and the stark reality of what a crappy baseball team Denver has can make even the most upstanding mountain person un-cork a blubbering bottle of Mile High Merl-ooooooh.
So for all those poor-me’s out there who are having such a bad time in the place where the living is so great, this episode of Elwayville is dedicated to decanting some of Coloradoans biggest seasonal complaints. As always, we’d love to hear your own suggestions and scintillating insight at ElevationOutdoors.com.
Texans
Everybody loves to complain about rude New Yorkers and saucer-eyed Red Sox fans, knowing full well that what would chap those East Coaster’s hides the most is if they knew that Boston and New York seem like the exact same place to most Colorado folks. But foremost in any list of Denver diatribes are the white SUV driving hordes from the great state of Texas. Because they’re so loud, and so large, because of that George Bush bomb they dropped on the world for eight disastrous years, and especially because our tourist economy is so dependent on their dollars (financially, when Texas gets punched in the nose, Colorado gets a nosebleed), Texans present an easy target. Why? Because when someone asks a Coloradoan what they are, they just point at the big kid with the gaper gap sunburn, Starter jacket and snowboard boots on the wrong feet and say, “I’ll tell you what I ain’t.”
Traffic
Here is one of the mysteries of modern life: how are you in your car in a traffic jam, yet not actively contributing to the jamming itself? Is this an out-of-automobile experience? When you are in your car, you are traffic. People who complain about this (especially on I-70!) are really trying to tell you how long they have lived here, because that was, like, before traffic. Be sure to ask them why they don’t ride a bike.
Bikes
Speaking of bikes. What’s up with the gas-guzzling backlash against cyclists, bike lanes and bike sharing, as if exercise and self-reliance were key to some sort of socialist plot? It all reminds me of those creepy guys in high school who always had to make such a big deal about how much they hated cats. I don’t know why someone—or some thing—enjoying its independence freaks people out like that. Just drive the speed limit, son, and share the road, and everybody (even those little kitties) will be just alright.
Sports
Can we talk? I’m still pissed off about the Josh McDaniels Experience. Talk about taking crazy pills. He dumped all our stars (except Champ Bailey), beamed in Tim Tebow (which was pretty cool), then squirmed his way back to the Patriots (absolutely tripling the hate), leaving us with whatever this Peyton Manning dream of hired-gun superstar pigskin slingers can create. Add in the fact that Carmelo Anthony was a ball-hogging point hound (yeah, I freakin’ miss him) who couldn’t wait to get out of Cowtown, the annual question of when and if the Avs will ever get back to the playoffs, and the continuing backslide of the Rockies, and you’ve got a town just waiting for any sort of sporting success to celebrate. At least the snow is going to be great!
The Weather
Seriously, complaining about the weather is like complaining about the drink you just ordered. You knew when you walked into the place—i.e., the state—exactly what you were going to get. But just in case you lost the Weather Briefing package you should have received when you first crossed the border, here are the call-outs:
Summer: It is hot.
Winter: It snows a lot (or not).
Spring/Fall: Intermittent spells of snow and heat.
Summer/Winter Anomalies: It may get really cold or really hot.
If You Don’t Like the Weather: Wait an hour, and you’ll get something different.
Snow Reports
Snow reports are a sore subject for avid skiers and riders—especially those who prefer fresh tracks. That’s because too many times they’ve blown off work or the big Sunday brunch thanks to a big report only to get to the chairs and find a bunch of windblown dust on crust. On the other hand, there have been a lot of great days when what was supposed to be two or three inches rode like seven or eight. And I would argue that any time you find yourself complaining about the amount of measurable precipitation you received, you might be starting to miss the point.
D.I.A
For people flying through Denver, D.I.A. does beat the heck out of other hub city airports like Chicago O’Hare and Washington Dulles. But the parking for locals is absurd, and I’ve personally been suspicious of the baggage transfer system since they first opened the place. Still, the Wolfgang Puck restaurant in the B Terminal, and the new direct service to Iceland are both pretty sweet!
(Insert name of mountain town here)
There are people in Denver who don’t like people in Colorado Springs who don’t like people in Boulder who don’t like people in Aspen who don’t like people in Grand Junction because they are too conservative, liberal, rich, lazy, paranoid or just too different. And there are locals in a lot of towns who have wasted their breath talking about the locals somewhere else. But as this summer showed, from the fires to the senseless shooting, we sure can come together when it matters. It’s cool like that. •
