...Mayor Michael Hancock? He has been able to destroy and/or monetize parks and open space throughout Denver. He has been able to destroy or damage neighborhoods throughout the city with...high rises built right to the curb. He has driven out African-American families who have been in the city for generations with his gentrification efforts and making affordable housing in the city a thing of the past. Driving about Denver has become a chore almost any time of day and parking has become scarcer...
"When we can't afford to strike, that's when we have to strike." ...the 93% of DCTA educators who voted...to strike disagreed. [They disagreed with a district official.] Newly appointed DPS Superintendent Susana Cordova... ...hiring more substitute teachers, arranging to pay subs twice their usual rate, spending $137,000 on lesson plans for those subs - revealed teachers' main concern...how top heavy the DPS payroll was with administrative positions... - Glendale Cherry Creek Chronicle
...new jobs [in Denver] climbed to 100,000, Denver has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the nation, 8,000 new companies were formed, $300 million is committed to affordable housing, and national publications voted Denver as the best place to live, start a career, and raise children. - Denver Urban Spectrum, 3/2019
...I'm meeting...deserters from everywhere. ...I knew I made the right decision... The army...was an experience...insight into a world that I might never have been in... So I felt that I had certain insights. ...I just let my head unravel for a long time, mainly with...grass, lot o' hash, some acid, stuff like that. ...a purging of the inner demon. ...while you're going through all these changes down in the States. ...it was a new life and I was glad.
As far as the States goes... If repression comes, it's going to be horrible - that no matter who comes out on top, people are going to be shot in the streets, thrown in jail, put up against the wall.
...in Paris. ...I went to the Communist Party, and they just kicked me out... This was in the fall of 1967... In December Stokely Carmichael showed up. He was arrested...at the airport and held for a few hours. ...I'd do an interview with Carmichael on TV... Before...I signed an agreement with the French Government not to engage in any political activities. ...we...decided...to...encourage resistance from inside the army. ...writing letters to the "Stars and Stripes" having arguments with the editors... We were publishing... I decided to leave because after the May revolt I didn't trust the French government at all. ...in that riot at the Fort Dix stockade. ...going to prison...for another twenty of thirty years. It didn't happen to him because of all the publicity he got. I'm sure it changed him... ...I came to Canada... We...in June 1969...got a farm...and we had guys, staying there... I like Saskatchewan - the socialist reforms... ...as inflation and unemployment get out of hand, people are turning back to the social democrats...
I don't feel like getting into...the hippie commune thing. I don't see why there has to be a split between...the cultural revolutionaries and the political revolutionaries. ...the majority of the young people are still with the establishment...
There is going to be a revolutionary movement forming up here, getting ready to go back to the U. S. ...the most logical cause is for revolutionaries to grab the American power structure...and...destroy it by whatever means necessary. Che says in revolution one wins or dies. Perhaps that's applicable to the whole world right now, because if we don't have a revolution, we're going to die anyway. - The New Exiles, by R. N. Williams, 1971
Friday. The first day of a new month. I'm sitting behind work before my shift begins. A young woman comes around the corner.. Rather than a crazy, or homeless, or male, she's cute and alert and in sports gear. She sees my plastic grocery bag and mistakes it for a brown paper bag. "Oh, are they giving hood out?" she asks. She realizes it isn't and says she's "so hungry." She asks if I have any extra food, and I apologize that i don't. She bids me farewell. The following morning, I am off this Saturday. A chilly wind transports the occasional snowflake. I'm at the stop for the bus to the supermarket. If i walk a few steps away, I can see one end of my townhome complex. Against one outside wall of someone's home sits a homeless guy having a smoke. I've been sitting on this bench for some minutes, directly across the street from the Mexican place. For the 12 years I've lived here, it's had the same name and sign. This morning, it has a second sign with a second name. On Friday, I was over at the Chinese place after work. At a table were two Caucasian guys and a couple of girls. Both guys had beards, long hair, and wire rimmed glasses. One has his hair in a top knot. The following day, in line with the Hispanic customers is a Caucasian guy in some kind of a bush hat. On Sunday, I'm having breakfast at the Mexican place. It began snowing last night and the morning brings several inches on the ground. And it's 10 degrees F. I watch through the window as a Caucasian couple walks through the freeze and comes in. I don't remember the last Caucasian I saw in here, much less on a 10 degree morning.
Tuesday of the following week. I'm next door to work, at the Greek place. I see a guy behind the counter. I believe that he can be no other then...Mr. Dennis. He doesn't appear to be a guy who would forget to give the kitchen my order. Actually, in his little hat, he appears to me to be bored. At the register is a customer in leather and fur boots, and a fur coat. Her face has major plastic surgery. The skin shines in the light from the ceiling.
It was refreshing to be so clueless. "If your mind is empty...it is open to everything...in the expert's mind...possibilities...are few." ...to sit without trying to achieve results... ...I vowed to let go of time... ...if I pushed against time or tried to race it, I would create...resistance and suffering... - Elevation Outdoors, March, 2019
...we marched into the main arena with huge banners - sort of like the Christian crusaders! ...I spoke to the bishops... The body of bishops was asked to stand if they supported me... I thought we may be on the verge of...civil disobedience in the military... ...other sanctuaries in other cities...continuing to defy the authorities. I would support a socialist party in the U.S. but there isn't any. ...a society should be structured so...each individual...can have a full grasp of what...consciousness means. ...Washington, D.C....the November Moratorium. ...400,000 people...with marines lined up on top of the buildings, soldiers on top of the Treasury Building, and the Commerce Department, and he trucks full of soldiers, and the White House barricaded. When the liberal middle class who now think everything is groovy in the States find out that everything isn't groovy, then it's time for me to go back to the States. - Williams
...the first thing she did was call her friend, Rachel Scot t, to make sure she was okay. But Scott...was the first one killed that day... In the hagiography of Columbine, Scott's story looms large...the basis of several inspirational Christian books published by her parents. ...her friend...knew her in a different context entirely...who made friends across Columbine's elaborate social strata... ...the lives they thought they were going to have had been snatched from them... - Westword, 3/21-27/2019
Friday. Almost the end of another week. There has been more snow this month than all season. Before work I stop into the deathburger homeless central for breakfast. Inside are what one employee refers to as "the riff raff." He asks me to keep my backpack off the table where I'm sitting because, he says, the homeless fill the tables with knapsacks. At a table across from me is a young short skinny guy. It appears from what is visible of his body, that half of it from head to toe is covered in tattoos. When he's not standing and posing in the lobby, he's conversing with another young guy at his table. This one has long hair, a beard, and is missing some teeth. A young woman comes along and gives the tattoo kid a hug. He looks like he belongs in the circus. I'm listening to a guy behind me who just came in. He asks someone else cryptically, "What are you really thinking?" I don't turn around and actually see him. I watch as a female employee slowly comes out from behind the counter. She cautiously approaches the guy behind me. I don't hear what she says to him, but he answers that he "was just about to put one on." I immediately understand that he has no shirt on. He sounds as if he's middle aged. When i watch him leave, he appears to be in his twenties. He has no shirt but wears a sleeveless denim jacket. I watch him outside as he postures and busts out his moves. Just another day at deathburger homeless central. As I'm leaving, I see someone with a rotary metal saw. They're cutting free the empty frame of a bicycle from a bike rack. I deposit a check into my account from my homeowner's insurance company, and I grab a sugar free hot chocolate from the coffee place with two managers who both claim 1) to be named Jeremy and 2) not to know each other, before I head back to grab my bike. After I get to work, I am taking trash and boxes out back to the dumpster. Some yards away, underneath a staircase, is a homeless woman. from a distance, she sounds as if she is apologizing to me either for throwing something away in our dumpster (which is not possible as we are only one of two businesses with a key to the lock) or for for wanting to do so.
Saturday. My turn to work. A cold wind blows on this March morning before Daylight Savings time begins. On my way to work, I'm approaching the bridge over the train yard. A young woman makes her way uphill in front of me. As I pass her, I hear her softly speaking to herself. I decide to hit the downtown supermarket along the way for breakfast. There are tables and seats at a coffee place inside. I think I recognize a young homeless guy at a table across from me. He holds a mirror in his hands and continues to run his finger across an eyebrow. My eyes keep trying to tell me that he's a female. His hair is dyed red. He has a silver chain with large links hanging off his billfold, and on the table is a small cloth bag with skulls on it. The next morning I am on a residential street just across from where I live. I pass a young Caucasian guy in a track suit, running with his dog. I'm headed for the bike shop. Last week I noticed that one of my brakes isn't working. When I get there, I'm greeted by a tall employee with a thinning head of curly hair. He's perhaps a decade my junior. He takes a look at my bike and tells me that one of my brake lines is out of hydraulic fluid. I have disc brakes and never knew the brake lines had hydraulic fluid. As he writes up a work order on the computer, he needs help navigating the software from another employee. He strikes me as someone who is pursuing a natural life. When I leave he tells me to have a peaceful day. I head over to a gas station on the way to work. Inside is a derelict guy in line. The manager is doing some restocking of the shelves. The phone rings, and derelict guy says to the manager, "Phone..." On the second ring, again he says, "Phone..." The manager responds with, "Shut up." It's half a block to work. I turn down the alley to see a guy urinating on a telephone pole. As I pass him he asks me if I have a cigarette. I tell him I don't smoke. He replies, "Well, that's a good thing." I think I hear a west coast accent. I sit outside work behind a big truck. As he walks through the alley, he doesn't see me again until he comes around the truck. When he does, he asks me if I'm the same guy he just talked to.
...out of the church and onto...campus. "There's sadness and isolation. Everyone's walking around with headphones on and nobody's saying 'hello' to anyone. There's a lack of 'joy'. We need to change the culture of our campuses. Those students need...to see a building that's going to inspire them to want to go inside... I think people are seeing the tremendous battle." - Denver Catholic, 3/9-22/2019
They imagined a community where naming their fears, uncertainties, anxiety, and doubts were not only supported, but normalized. They realized the need for a new vocabulary... ...for...creators and rule-breakers to flourish... ...to create...representation and culture change... ...health...family and relationships, sex and intimacy, finance, creativity, career, culture, and politics. We discussed where we currently stand... ...a Friendsgiving Potluck, and...cocktails, crafts, and conversations about self-love. ...searching for belonging and space... - Asian Avenue Magazine, 3/2019
After...an employee at the [deathburger homeless central] was stabbed in the chest by an unruly man outside the restaurant last month, he was fired. "...my termination paper, saying I didn't have the right to ask that individual anything... I lost my job for doing my job." [This employee] gave away warm clothing to homeless people... ...a wide range of individuals and organizations...dropped off clothing in growing amounts that seemed to irritate the restaurant's management. "Brand-new stuff would be in the dumpster, and I would literally would have to go dumpster-diving to salvage things before it was too late." Word of the efforts...circulated among the homeless who congregate on the 16th Street mall, with even more of them heading to the [deathburger] than previously. ...these gatherings were flagged by the Downtown Denver Partnership, which instituted a new security plan in 2016 to combat the area's unwanted reputation as a magnet for homelessness, drugs and crime. At the same time...simple measures capable of preventing some problems weren't taken. ...that the bathrooms be kept locked until a customer requested to use them... "Heroin. meth. marijuana... ...people masturbating in the stalls or women in there buck naked, shaving and showering and washing clothes in the sink." - Westword, 3/14-20/2019
...Tom Hayden's definition of a "liberated zone". It houses...850 students. ...the "People's Gallery" for contemporary art... The halls and elevators are a graffiti museum, a fierce assault of revolutionary slogans and gentle poetry. ...a bookbindery, a bakery, and myriad craft shops. ...free concerts by the Revolutionary People's Concert band. The rooftop...is...for nude sunbathing...
Like in the hostel, I've seen dozens of guys go through their first acid trips. One guy...he was an "Ayn Rander," and then he did his acid trip and got into Zen, and, a few months later, he was a freak. Another guy was CIA in Vietnam...deserted from Army intelligence... ...his father is general somebody or other, and like he's afraid of being kidnapped. Like, I'm really fed up with America. I wouldn't go back. I really try to stop people from going back before they do. - Williams
...the 30th annual Rocky Mountain Conference of Dementia... The author of "Tears in My Gumbo, The Caregiver's Recipe for Resilience"...will be the closing keynote speaker. The conference will include...Safety Panel Topics: Guns, Driving, and Home Safety. The Joy of Dementia - an improvisational workshop. - Prime Time For Seniors, 3/2019
Monday. I'm just on the trail to work. As I approach an underpass, I see a grey-haired guy with an orange bike. He's taking a photo of a goose up on a concrete wall. On the other side of the underpass, I see on the bank of the river a young guy with shaggy blonde hair. he has a tree branch and is talking to his own geese. The following evening, I approach the underpass on the way home. The sun is setting. On a concrete ledge sits the shaggy-haired guy. In the middle of the trail are a couple of geese. I pass between them at a crawl. Not a word is spoken...or a honk. Wednesday. I leave work early. I'm not usually on the bike trail in the late afternoon. The trail is full of Caucasian cyclists. I turn off the trail, and between there and my boulevard, the neighborhood is full of Caucasian pedestrians. I see one woman come out of her front door with a pair of dogs on leashes. One couple is out with a golden lab. The guy is walking the dog and the woman is slowly following on a bicycle. He somehow appears older. He has no hair on his head. Her own hair is dyed red and she has designer sweats on. Friday afternoon. Out back of work, across the alley are three homeless guys. They have a couple of big open garbage bags. They appear to be full of leafy greens, perhaps from a grocery dumpster. They are sitting on the cement and appear to be weeding out I know not what from the individual stalks. Every few minutes one of the trio takes whatever has been selected out of the mass over to another trash can. In the afternoon, a little guy comes into the lobby. He's young, perhaps 20 years younger than me. He's bow-legged, and walks slowly. His skin is the same shade of brown as every stitch of clothes on his body. He wears a cowboy hat under the hood on his hoodie. I speak to him in Spanish. He's looking for work as a cobbler. He asks for change for coffee. Later in the afternoon it begins to lightly rain. In the early evening, I'm on my way home on the bike trail. I'm coming out the other side of what is becoming an infamous underpass. Climbing the hill is a middle-aged guy with a camping pack on his back. The rainfall has become steadier. He's taking slow, tired steps. In his arms is the very first part of any bicycle frame. It has no front fork, no handlebars, no pedals, no seat. It's a completely bare trapezoid with one bar connecting the closest opposite corners. He soldiers down the wet cement in the dark. The following day, it's my Saturday to work. On the way home, more trouble out from under the infamous bike trail underpass. Up on the street, a truck is coming around a bend at too high a velocity. It slides off the road, down a shallow embankment, and ends up driving along the bike trail. It's headed straight for me before it climbs back onto the road.
...on Highway 40...the worn-out husk of an old gas station/mini mart. Now, it's...the cultural heart...of Granby. With an artsy facelift...reclaimed wood and retro signage, the site is now...burgeoning gallery Westside 40... ...upscale milk paint furniture, raku pottery...nestle in with aromatherapy candles, Chapstick cozies and dog sweaters. There's...a wall of tea cozies with witty messages. - Winter Park Magazine, Winter 2018-19
Wednesday of the following week. It's after work and I'm on the trail home at twilight. Cyclists are all over the trail,, coming and going. Up an embankment which leads down to the Platte River, a homeless guy pushes a shopping cart backwards. Inside is a single folded blanket. Around a bend is another homeless guy. Between the trail and the interstate on the opposite side from the river, a middle-aged guy cradles a single plastic water bottle in his arms. He's wearing a grey denim buttoned down shirt the same hue as his skin, and he stumbles along the grassy rise. Homeless guy number three is coming over the top of the trail. He's in a black and white Jack Daniels sweatshirt. Tucked under an arm is what appears to be a folded plastic sheet. He steps off the trail and climbs toward the highway. Twenty-four hours later, I am coming home along this very same trail. I'm riding along a stretch with a narrow space of perhaps a couple of yards between a concrete ledge against the interstate, and a chain link fence. In this narrow space is a homeless guy with a full camping pack and bedroll on his back. He's bending over to pick something out of the weeds. Friday. I have a dentist appointment, a six-month check-up. Before I go there, I swing by the place of employment of someone I used to work with 15 years ago. She works on the same side of town. She's an old friend I reconnected with just a couple of years ago. She's now the age I was when we worked together. Still tall and beautiful. Same sense of humor and quick, nervous movements. We have a brief chat before she tells me that I should call the general manager to ask about coming back to work for him. They are desperate for employees who are interested in doing the job. Funny. That's how I got hired three months ago where I work now. And the current general manager is the same one who fired me back then. Well, she's his longtime employee, she's probably just trying to help him out. I say my goodbyes and head off to grab breakfast before the dentist.
At the dentist, I get a full set of updated x-rays. I mention a tooth which is bothering me. The dentist tells me it's being disturbed by a buried wisdom tooth. He recommends I have two wisdoms pulled, as well as have two new crowns. The crowns alone, with my current insurance, will be a cool $1,600 alone. Today, I need a deep cleaning which, with my insurance, is another $480. I sit in the chair waiting for my dentist, pondering how I will move money around to pay for all of this. I could go back to work for my old boss, and perhaps acquire better insurance. But I my old friend just confirmed that he still cares nothing for his customers. Which is why I'm glad he fired me. I meet with a new investment broker next month. If I have to skip some payments, I may have to get more aggressive with my investment strategy t make up the difference. My old broker, a remarkable young woman, quit the business. Perhaps there's more money in dentistry. After work by my own dentist and an oral surgeon I have yet to meet, I had better come away with one good looking mouth. When I get to work, I notice the former governor walk past. Shortly after, I'm talking to the owner of the Greek place next door. He tells me that the former governor's presidential campaign headquarters is nxt to his place, on the side opposite us. It's in a former halfway house. Saturday is my turn to be off work. I'm coming back from across the street, where I had dinner. I'm crossing through the intersection with a little old woman who I never saw before. When we get to my side of the street, a passing car honks at her. I turn to see a van with a couple of young people in the back who are smiling at her. I assume they know her. Then I notice that she is actually walking in the street, next to the sidewalk. She begins cursing the van, along with the other traffic, as she walks in the street until she gets to my townhome complex. I follow her into my parking lot and watch as she goes into one of the homes.
