A Weekend in the City

Rockin- Mogwai

Lately it feels like eternity rests within a span of 24 hours. Like in the moments where every single one of my senses get so stimulated, it causes me to dream and think of all these stories going on in my head of what I want to do with my life. Some days I dream about traveling all over the world. Some days I dream about going into the music school again and spending every waking moment practicing and studying the entire world of music. Sometimes I feel like I'm tripping on something no matter what. These are some very powerful visions I have had this weekend.

It was still rainy weather on Friday. For some reason, I awoke with a great deal of tension sitting in my throat, and it was hard trying to release that tension for most of the day. I went to the Cup around noon and had a cup of Mocha Java and spent some deal getting distracted from Billy Bathgate because I kept subliminally peering around for girls, I suppose, as this whole natural obsession is going on right now. In the evening, Andrew and I took the Hop to meet Cookie and his coworker Matt for happy hour on Pearl St. We settled in for sake and sushi at Hapa, and Sebastien and his new roommate/French transfer worker Sofia met us over there, as well as my old neighbor Britain. There was a lot of people teeming around, even with all the rain, and after we finished our stay we went to the Catacombs. I had some beer and had a hardy session of Galaga, and everyone was hanging out and playing ping pong. Britain and Matt were a pretty awesome team together, as they went 1 for 1 against these other two guys who were very legitimate players as well. A chunk of us left later and went to the Hill to go to Dedy's house on the Hill, and after he showed us around, we hung out with his roommates and their friends with an "aged" keg of Sunshine Wheat. Cookie met us later with a 40 of Budweiser, a small bottle of Jack, and a Jimmy John's sub in hand. We played some flip cup and had some pretty intense games against each other, my team being the winner of the majority of them. Because of these games, all of us got a lot more intoxicated very much more then our previous state when we first showed up, and the guys opened up conversation about all our physical "firsts" we had with girls throughout our entire lives. It was as if these things because comically shameless to tell, revel, brag, and laugh about with each other, like some shared sort of affection we had for one another. As some people left for the bars, Cook and I walked out into the puddle-covered streets, had a nice pee on a fence, and walked down to Pearl St once again, only for me to say that I did not feel like going back to the bars. Andrew joined us later, and we walked back home, and I almost felt that just smiling and riding an overall sense of postitivity was keeping all the negative feelings out of my throat. At home, I took a shower, still laughing like an idiot to myself the entire time, Cookie ate all of my Ben and Jerry's Boston Cream Pie Ice Cream (which he now owes to me), and we passed out, many hours after the whole night started at Hapa.

Cookie woke me up on Saturday (now seemingly a common occurance) to go grab his car on the Hill by Dedy's house and to go get some breakfast. The weather was cloudy, yet dry, and after retrieving Cook's car, we went to Aji for brunch. It was Cook's first time to go there for the weekend brunch. We had coffee with cream and sugar cubes, I had the chipotle benedict and potatoes, and Cook had some bacon, hash browns, eggs, and a fruit gespacho that had a salty-taste that was interestingly welcome to the taste palette. After brunch, we met with Andrew at the Farmer's Market. I ran into a bunch of friends of mine, something I seem to look forward to every time I go there nowadays. I was way too full to try too many samples, but we were surrounded by a great deal of fresh produce and baked goods, so many that I somewhat regretted having such a big brunch beforehand. We bought some basil to grow back at home, and after Cook and I drove back, I spent a while playing some piano, working on a song, and playing some trombone. I told Cook that my music practice lately has felt like a religious practice, and I guess I've really tried to work on that kind of attitude a lot more so far. After a day's worth of musical creation and practice, Andrew and I saddled our things together, biked to the Boulder Transit Center, boarded the BX, and made our way down to Denver for the night. We listened to some smooth jazz and had a fun time doing some corny voiceovers erring to references to cruise liners and the Weather Channel. I nodded off for a bit, and we were soon on our bikes, speeding through downtown Denver towards Watercourse Foods on 17th and Clarkson, as we were already late for a reservation. Cook was waiting for us outside already, and sure enough our reservation was given to someone else because of our tardiness. The hostess didn't seem too pleased, but being such a busy Saturday crowd, I couldn't have imagined her being very happy about her stressful situation any better. Us three had a grand meal, much to our expectations, of seitan buffalo wings, onion rings, and a milkshake to start. Andrew and I got the Country-Fried Seitan and Mashed Potatoes, and Cook got the Grinder. The meal filled our stomachs to the brim, and a bike ride afterwards became a crucial necessity. By this point in the day, the sun was peering from the East side of town, pulling through the Rockies, surrounded by the remains of storm clouds that had just a day before precipitated all over the Front Range. We had a nice ride down to the 16th Street Mall, and we walked our bikes down through the Saturday hustle and bustle of Denver's citizens roaming around, warming up the nightlife. We finally biked over to the Wynkoop Brewery and went upstairs in the pool hall area to sit and watch the Rockies game and split a pitcher of Left Hand Milk Stout. After hanging out for a while and watching some old boxing matches on ESPN Classic on some of the TVs, we biked towards Cervantes to go meet up with Andrew's friends for the concert. We met Will, Jesse, and Jesse's girlfriend on 26th and Champa, and after we loaded and stored our bags and items in his SUV, we ate the medicinal-grade edibles we had packed with us and went towards the venue. Even getting through the will call line was a congested matter in itself. Inside Cervantes, Nigel Hall was going through the last of his tunes, and it was around this time the edibles really started taking effect in my mind. It was as if the whole darkness of the venue subversively hid my sense of time and location, and everything just started getting more and more intense. Andrew and I were busting rhymes against each other with the house music rolling through the place, and Dana, who we met up with at the beginning of the show, was laughing and smiling along our prolonged verses. By time Soulive took the stage, I was incredibly stoned, getting a little tense, and the only thing that could settle me down was a good dose of Soulive. I remember closing my eyes and letting my mind imagine all the notes they were playing, as if I saw each and every one of the notes played on the keyboard or the guitar fretboard. It was also incredible to just watch their technique and every single small action that went on during their performance. They had all these hand signals to communicate with one another, and even the role of the keyboardist as the bandleader was mindblowing. I remember texting to my Twitter account that I was straight up going pentacostalic for the music, which I really was, as I was spending the entire show smiling uncontrollably, pretending I was playing the instruments, and having some very powerful visions run through my mind. By Cook's regard, when he turned around during the performance, everyone in the entire building was smiling and grooving really hard. During the break, I went to the bar for a much needed water break, and in that point I was still noticing so many small things going on all at once. I could see the stress of the bartender and his relentless movement and action to serve all these people lining up for drinks. One guy, particularly under a heavy influence, started talking to me and made a reference to the bartender's shirt, which was an old school Denver Nugget's logo of a figure with a basketball and a mining pick ax, how the figure on the t-shirt would have no problem dunking because it had an ax with it. I went outside for a while and gave Neal a call to talk for a while and see how his night was going. He said he was drinking gin with some friends and playing Uno. Back inside, I hung out with Andrew on the upper level and started talking about all the operations going on in the venues at the time, thinking about all the guys walking around picking up glass pint glasses so that they would not get tipped over, shattered, and then become part of the expenses for the venue to pay. It was as if I was trying to explain the whole social science to Andrew about the concert, and he told me "who dude, you're thinking about WAY too much right now!" We walked back down to the front and center floor, back with Cook, just in time to see Lettuce take the stage with the members of Soulive, and immediately I was grooving hard again. I was really stoked to see Matt Pitts playing alto saxophone with the band, and my memory was just ringing in all the jazz ensembles I played with back here at CU. So again, I was in my own world of listening to the music and seeing all the notes go down in my head. Sometimes what was more mind-blowing was opening my eyes and watching what the guys were doing with their instruments, as if I was finally really seeing and understanding what these guys were doing with their instruments to make the music they were making. The deftness of the bass players picking fingers with his left hand, the various levers and pedals the keyboardist was using, the notes I could see myself playing on the trombone harmonizing with the rest of the band...my mind was just being blown out of control. I almost felt as if Cookie was watching me the entire time because I was seeing so much, feeling so much, and visibly expressing that fascination and emotion. It was just a really powerful night of listening and feeling music like I've never had, and with the whole music school reference made earlier, it was these kinds of visions and fascinations that made me want to truly understand and express these feelings and things running through my mind. I was so igh I completely lost track of time, as the band finally ended playing around 2 am. Everybody met up outside to talk about the entire experience, and then Cook, Andrew and I decided to make the ride back to Cookie's house. Will lent us his car keys, and over by his car, we got our all items together, and I swear at one point an arrow of fear shot through me when I heard something like gunshots come out of nowhere. Cook and Andrew said it was firecrackers, but I thought otherwise. After dropping off the keys, we had a long ride through downtown and onto the Cherry Creek Path, something I remember riding the last time around with my Dad on a warm summer's day. This time, it was a chilly ride through the humid Denver air, with no one on the path, and only the lights of street lamps dimly lighting the path ahead of us the entire time. We ended up riding for a good 30 minutes or so. Not so much fun on a fixie, me and my ass learned. For the ride, though, it led to an overwhelming sense of relief to get to Cook's apartment, sit down on his couch, dish into some leftovers from Watercourse, and pass out shortly thereafter. I had the couch, as Andrew lost a coin toss for sleeping privileges for it, and underneath a plush sleeping bag I slept heavily.

This morning, I awoke to Cookie handing me, still lying on the couch, a coffee with cream and sugar, and while savoring the smell of it all, Cook's dog Finn jumped on me and caused me to spill a small amount all over myself and the sleeping bag. Outside, the sun was shining brilliantly and radiating warm sensations all over Denver. After getting some things together, I walked Finn outside in the dog park, watched him bark at two dogs, much larger then him, and their owner, and back in the apartment, Cook's breakfast of eggs, avocado, hash browns, and all of it wrapped up in a tortilla and smothered in 505 green chile sauce, was ready. We ate down quickly, and after getting our items together and taking some showers, we biked over to the RTD Light Rail near Cook's house and rode the train into town towards Coors Field. We biked over to the crowds flooding the exterior of the stadium, and after parking and locking up our bikes, we waited in line for tickets. In the midst of the prolonged wait, we played hand games, word games, talked with some people, and even did some yoga together. After buying our tickets (some 4 pack Coca Cola deal for seats, hot dogs, and sodas), we re-parked our bikes in a special lot that offered incentives for bike riders such as bottles of water, snacks, and ticketed drawings for gifts. We met up with Sebastien and made our way into the stadium by the bottom of the 1st inning. We watched for a while in the upper west section, and then we went for a walk, which turned into getting our hot dogs and sodas and just standing and watching the rest of the game from the left 3rd base outfield, as well as just hanging out and talking about craziness with one another throughout the game. I texted Emelye to see if she wanted to hang later, and I was stoked to hear her say yes to the occasion. After the Rockies beat the Nats with a decisive run in the bottom of the 8th and a shut out in the 9th, we walked around downtown Denver again for a while, scheming a possible location for happy hour. We met with Emelye by the Market Street Bus Station, and we all went over to this cafe in Larimer Square that Emelye liked. This cafe/deli had an incredible assortment of sandwiches, entrees, bakery items, and drinks, so much that I had a hard time deciding on a purchase. I ended up with some cannoli and a cup of coffee, and everyone had gotten some form of sweet, kinda an interesting turnaround from our original intentions for booze. We had our sweets and drinks while talking, laughing, and hanging out on a table on the sidewalk in front of the joint, and with the surroundings of sky scrapers and brick buildings and the business of pedestrian and vehicle traffic, it was as if the whole atmosphere of a cafe in the city could not have been more complete. We talked about all sorts of online YouTube references, international politics, and cultural absurdities, I guess pretty seemingly standard stuff these days. By 630, we walked Andrew and Sebass to the bus station, and Cook, Emelye and I walked to Cheeseman Park, sat on a hill, watched the sun set, as well as numerous Denver yuppies play frisbee with their dogs, and we talked about all sorts of nostalgia, romantic ideologies, and about unknown authors and their stories of seeming nothingness. I also had a nice mental release of how much had changed since the entire last week in many perspectives surrounding romantic intentions, weather, thoughts on the future, and just a lot of things that have collected in my mind lately. Overall, it just felt great to be there with Emelye, as if she's one of the most wholesomely enjoyable people in my entire life I like to be around, no matter what. By 8 pm, we said bye and parted, Cook went back on the light rail, and I was back on the Boulder-bound B line with nothing more then my wallet, phone, bike, helmet, and lock. I spent the entire ride home meditating about the entire weekend, and at some point I started thinking about traveling more and more, as if I belong on the open road at this point in my life. I had some intense visions of backpacking through Europe by myself, spending a deep amount of time everywhere and letting myself be absorbed by every culture, and breaking out of these places into others, each time taking a little piece of each location and putting it with me. I walked home from the Boulder Transit Center and have since been eating some food, listening to music, burning some Nag Champa, and working on this entry.

I think it's weekends as these that can sometimes carry such memorable experiences in my life. I think this comes because I get exposed to such high numbers of human beings in one area, and it feels both incredibly overwhelming and empowering to reflect upon myself in these situations. I look at myself and my ego and see how much we have in common and how much more different I feel from others on this planet. I guess these are things that will continue to reflect on my being every day, but overall I think I learned this weekend how important it is to just stay in the moment and keep finding the interesting parts that make every single moment so inspiring and memorable to my life.

-c