So, instead, i got Dave the Young Ones DVD.
Tuesday, December 24th - DENVER, CO: I sussed out what went wrong with the ol' webpage yesterday. It had gotten too long. So, i had to start a new page for more writing. I'm a verbose fellow i guess.
Anyway, i leave tonite, and i really really can't wait. Don't get me wrong: it's been very nice to reconnect with my family and old friends (for the most part), and i've picked up some very nice new suits for cheap. But Denver is an absolutely ghastly city, and i hate it here. Good god. I don't think a day goes by in Denver where you don't meet someone who has just gotten out of prison.
I was leaving a Capitol Hill 7-11 yesterday, when i was approached by someone who swore he wasn't a bum. He explained he just got to town, specifically mentioning he arrived via bus. So, because anyone who asks or is about to ask me for money deserves to be ruthlessly quizzed, i quickly asked him where he came in from. He earnestly responded "Hawaii."
"You just got in on a bus from Hawaii?!!" and i started laughing as he scrambled to change his story. I gave him $1 and walked away.
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I'd quickly like to thank Dave for letting me stay at his house that he just bought (l.), and letting me use his car the whole time as well. One night, he asked about whatever happened to "the fruitcake." This was in reference to a tradition started amongst us in the early 90s - presumably by Jeremie - where each year, someone would receive "the fruitcake", as in the same fruitcake some one else gave them from the previous year. Yes, basically, once a year, we'd pass around the same unopened fruitcake. This went on for several years, until "the fruitcake" mysteriously disappeared. So, not long after this conversation, my mom, apropos of nothing, mentioned that, in an old box of stuff of mine, there was an old fruitcake box. So, i thought this would be a fitting "thank you" to Dave, to give him the ol' fruitcake (so to speak) for putting me up. But, alas, as i went to my mother's to pick up the fruitcake, we discovered that a mouse had long since broken into the taped up box and eaten the fruitcake, then pooed all inside the box for good measure. I shudder to think about the fate of that mouse. Anyway, much like Major League Baseball under the watch of Bud Selig, another splendid tradition goes unceremoniously down the shitter. So, instead, i got Dave the Young Ones DVD.
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As you know, i love photos like this ...
This is a great photo, too ...
Our hero, in a man's jacket, at the site of his first apartment (1989)
Needless to say, i have no photos of this event.
Anyway, i still feel weird about all the writing i did yesterday, but for some reason, i'm pretty compelled to leave it up.
> From: "It's Jens!"
> To: jeff@xxxxxx.xxx
> Subject: I miss you
> Date: Mon, 23 Dec 2002 19:27:38 +0000
>
>
> Oh man. I'm at an internet cafe right by where i
> used to live. They're
> listening to Love and Rockets. People in Denver
> still like Skinny Puppy.
> I just updated my website with a big tirade about
> having lunch with my mom
> yesterday, and now i'm wondering how wildly
> inappropriate it is. Plus,
> angelfire is fucked up, so i can't change it right
> away. I really, really
> can't wait to leave. Don't ever let me come here
> again for any reason.
>
>
> luv
> jc
>
Monday, Dec. 23rd
- DENVER, CO, this time from Cafe Netherworld, 13th Ave. and Pennsylvania St., 2 blocks from my old apartment. The computers here are only $4/hr., and the coffee is very good, i'm inclined to go into a run-down of recent activities ...Last nite: "Big" Dave, "Big" Jake and i met up at Pete's Satire Lounge (on wonderful E. Colfax Ave.) for the Mexican Steak. I used to get the Mexican Steak all the time, and it's as good as ever, but the important part is the cook who brings it out. In all my years of going there when i lived there, the same guy always brought it out. He'd say in a very terse voice "plates are hot" while he was setting them down, and once everything was set he'd say in a low, clipped voice "have a nice time." Sure enough, he was there last nite, in usual form. So, Denver hasn't lost all of its soul yet.
 Dave objects to the flash on Jake's new camera.
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 Plate is hot. Have a nice time. |
 Denver's tax dollars at work |
Before that: Me and "Big" Jake went to Enginehouse No. 7 to visit Steve "Murph" Shideler, an old HS pal, now a Denver Co. Fireman. The last time i saw him was before i left for NYC, when he was a Denver Policeman. He has some hilarious stories from his 5-year stint as a cop (many about public onanism), but he seems much more suited to being a fireman. He was working on his ping-pong game with his fellow firemen when we arrived. He does 9 shifts/month, 24 hr. long shifts, and on his shifts he usually gets about 3 or 4 calls. So, lots of downtime. Needless to say, he was very relaxed and very happy, and the three of us chatted for a long time. I forgot how funny he is.
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Earlier that day: One thing i wanted to do on my trip out here was see my old town of Golden. I won't go into any sort of excruciating detail into how much the town has changed. The word "entirely" will probably do the trick. But, as the "omega" to the rest of new-Golden's "alpha", the old GOLDEN BOWL (where i bowled in leagues as a teen) remains completely unchanged since my last visit at least ten years ago, as if trapped in some sort of glacier. It was actually "Big" Jake's idea to go bowling, and apparently it was a pretty unique idea, because there was only one other group there the whole nite. The lanes are still in great shape, but everything else is very unmaintained. They even have most of the same video games that were there on my last visit, tho most of them no longer work. And, yes, it may be the last bowling alley in the free world to not have automated scoring. Good thing i remember how to do it. Needless to say, we loved it, and bowled pretty well (i got a 172 and a 173, Jason a 108 and 136). We both used the same ball, and it had "The Beast" etched into it. And, the whole thing cost $8 for the both of us, including shoes. Take that, Bowl-mor.
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 After |
Breakfast: Here's where it gets a little weird. I don't mind discussing this on the website because A) i'm going to get asked about it anyway, and 2) it's not like my mom ever reads this thing, or has been around a computer in the last 15 years. But, we had the "Big" breakfast at El Noa Noa on Federal, me, my mom, her boyfriend, and the "Big" Jake DeBerry family, including newest member Erin Nicole Alexandra (one week old today). The DeBerrys showed up about 45 min. after we got there (by design) so i had - for better or for worse - some time to spend catching up with my mom, and getting some idea who this creep she's dating is. And, that was, well, weird.
A quick aside: is it bad that i talk about this sort of thing so openly? I try to avoid self-pity where-ever possible, and i'm getting the suspicion that this may be coming across as self-pity, or just plain weird. I guess i just like writing. Maybe this is how i have to go about analyzing feelings or whatever. But, i'm telling you, seeing her with him was absolutely ghoulish. My mom is simply not herself. Mentally, physically, emotionally, she is a shell. She looks frail, seems scattered, she's not painting or doing any artwork, she has a bunch of awful tattoos (and not James and Zack funny/interesting tattoos, either). Her boyfriend tried very hard to be nice, and i think actually means it on some level, but i'm just not buying it. He's dim, interruptive, drunk and seemingly always on the precipice of doing something violent. And, most of the conversation was spent on them talking about themselves, and all the "drama" in their lives. Ugh. Something's very very wrong, and i'm not going to know what it is, just like i never knew what exactly the deal was with my mom and Pedro until years later (and not from her). It was (for me) a very uncomfortable encounter on every level, but i don't think anyone else noticed it. Compounding my discomfort was my being very ragged from the previous nite, my subsequent intake of massive amounts of coffee, the fact that it was unbelievably cold inside the restaurant, and the fact that i accidentally ordered a dish that was riddled with onions. There were several times during coversation i was about to get up and walk out, if Jason and his family (god bless 'em) weren't there to unintentionally mitigate the whole situation. Afterward, i had to drive around for an hour by myself to just to clear my head of the whole experience, before meeting up again with Jason. Crap.
The good news is my soon-to-be goddaughter Erin N.A. DeBerry is healthy and cute in that new-baby/lizard-y sort of way.
Thursday, Dec. 19th
I also stopped by my mom's apartment to surprise her with a visit. As you know i haven't seen her in a while, and she has no idea i'm in town. While i was at Salvation Army, i saw an XL, teal t-shirt that read in huge pink letters, "SUPER DUPER MOM." So, i bought it ($1), and headed over to her place which is just a block away, in an alley of Colfax Ave. But, she apparently wasn't home. So, i hanged the t-shirt on the door.
Here at the library, i'm sitting next to an attractive woman, probably 4 or 5 years my elder, who looks quite a bit like Sharon Osbourne. Spikey, red-dyed hair, and stylish, especially by Denver standards. This will probably happen a lot while i'm out here, but i'm thinking she looks familiar. I'm thinking of when i was in my apartment on Logan St., and i was in the back alley, talking to my neighbor Donnie, the friendly but insane tattooed biker-type that seems to populate every apartment building in Denver probably to this day. As we were talking (near a dumpster on a pleasant spring mid-morning, for those of you into "setting"), a lady acquaintence of his, attractive in that ragged, world-weary way, happened down the alley, quite drunk or fucked up. I was introduced, and then she blurted out "Donnie, have you seen the bullet hole?" Apparently, a boyfriend of hers had recently shot her with a BB Gun. To prove it, she bends over, pulls down her skirt and panties and shows us this small bullet hole, right next to her rectum. "Where the sun don't shine" indeed. Long story short: i doubt this lady sitting next to me is her (and there's no way i'm asking about "the bullet hole" again - only Tad Low would be that brassy), but if it is her, she's sure cleaned up her act ...
Time's up.