Hippies of 1983 Represent!

Every now and then, I'm reminded of why I was never into baseball until 1990. My geographic location had something to do with it, but alot of the players from the 80's never appealed to me. Mostly because they all looked like old men from a Boston concert (the band, not the city).

Last week, I picked up a cheapie "Ralston-Purina" baseball card set on eBay. It features 33 cards from 1984 (stats & pics from the 1983 season), with a good selection of Hall of Famers: like Eddie Murray, Jim Palmer, George Brett, Ozzie Smith and Steve Carlton. Plus some of the forgotten stars of that era: guys like Dan Quisenberry or Ron Guidry. Sort of like an All-Star Team selection process, they make sure to pick a guy from every team, which explains how Dave Concepcion or Greg Luzinski got included. I figured I could've spent 10-20 bucks to get "real" cards of the Hall of Famers...or the two bucks I spent here, to get all of them plus their forgotten contemporaries.

But check out Eddie Murray, rockin' the bushy fro' and Harley Race mustache:



Here's an example of Bruce Sutter rockin' the "Old guys at a Boston Concert" look.

Mr. Sutter, please schedule an appointment with Mr. Norelco at your earliest convenience.

Now, when I think "Purina", I think of dog food. I had forgotten that they had a line of kiddie cereal back in the 80's. Dog food...and kiddie cereal. Hmmm. The back of each card includes a line that tells kids to look for more cards in boxes of Cookie Crisp or Donkey Kong Cereal. Wow. Another thing I had forgotten about: Donkey Kong Cereal.

Garage Space: $1.60 per year

For the past year I've been saving aluminum beer and pop cans in my garage. Roughly, I'd say that they take up the same space as two trash cans. They've been getting in my way recently, so yesterday I decided to take 'em to the "Recycling Center" at my local grocer.

I thought I could just drop 'em off at the big "Recycling" sign at the back of the store. But nope, I had to haul all my cans into the front door and bug the main clerk. Getting a hysdirectomy would've been easier..and I'm not even female. They weighed the cans and it wasn't quiet at all. Everyone in the store knew that I was there with a gigantic load of empty Diet Coke with Lime and Bud Light cans.

Then the big pay off: $1.60.

After keeping this crap in my garage for a year, hauling it to the store and making an ass of myself, I get a dollar, two quarters and a dime.

Fuck my carbon footprint.

If I want to keep cans anymore, I'll do what I used to do. Fill up one plastic grocery bag and toss it in the back of my truck. When I get to my parking lot downtown, I'll grab the bag and leave it by a trashcan. Some homeless hobo will find it within the hour and appreciate it more than I ever would. So in a roundabout way, panhandlers will be cleaning out my garage.

Would You Say That I Have ... a Plethora?

Checked out the log files on my site today (not DWS, not this blog...but my main site) and I'm starting to get them: the Stupid Denver Broncos Website Referrals.

I shouldn't complain, since I've been #1 on Google for awhile with the term "Denver Broncos 3 Amigos". As expected, around this time of the year I get lots of football referrals. Most are for cheerleaders, though. Those I don't like.

I've had a fun summer away from football and it's getting harder to keep it away. I opened my newspaper this morning and it had a full page picture of Jay Cutler's grill. I enjoyed my quality time watching baseball games and reading comic books this summer. But now it's time to go back. Another season of interviews from overrated douchebags talking about all the "talent" on the team. People in the office are already dropping by my desk to ask ol' "Coach E" what he thinks about Simeon Rice or Travis Henry's 9 children from 9 wives.

I'm sure by Halloween I'll be absorbed in another season of this junk. I'll miss my nights of pondering worthless stuff--- like trying to remember the name of the villain who kept wanting to freeze the world on "General Hospital". Now I'll spend my nights wondering whether or not that third-and-goal play was the best option.

Aww hell... March is only about six months away.

Evil Airport!!

Westword, the local "alternative press" freebie rag published an interesting read on Denver International Airport. Here's the link, but I'm not sure how long it'll be archived on the site.

Basically, the story talks about all the weird conspiracies theories that have sprung up since DIA was opened in 1995. Symbolism from the Freemasons and weird murals that warn of an upcoming collapse in civilization. The airport is said to have a cavernous basement that will be the center of the New World Order (not Hogan, Hall and Nash). Some even insist that reptilian aliens live under the airport. Aliens who have their insidious talons in every level of Western government. The story also mentions one conspiracy theorist who tied the airport to the Denver Broncos (no exact citation of this theory, but there's my GoogleQuest for the week).

Great stuff. If Denver really is slated to be the center of the world, then I suppose my property value will increase dramatically (for those arriving late: I live just south of Denver). Too bad it's all a buncha' BS.

I've been to the airport countless times and while its giant canopy and removed location are weird, its ubiquitous theories are based on the sheer oddity of everything. Especially the art in the baggage terminals. It was a joke when I was going through art school in downtown Denver: how the city dished out grants to random artists. Artists who developed their works independently. When it all came together and the "art" was installed in the terminals, it looked disjointed and haphazard. This led many to believe that there HAD to be a theme to all this random weirdness.

Stuff like stone gargoyles sitting in open luggage, or an 18 foot mural of distorted "multicultural" kids looking over a big leafy thing. It's really just crappy art.

The subterranean commuter trains of DIA were a shock to many. I was freaked out when I found out I couldn't walk to the outer concourses, I had to go to the basement and take a train. A train that played goofy flute music to announce arrivals and departures. Inside the tunnels were weird "wind art" sculptures that would twinkle or twirl as the train went by. Add that on top of the unconventional canvas terminal, the removed location from Denver and the countless delays in the airport's opening, and people were just freaked out to be at DIA. The airport's opening was delayed by roughly two years and way over budget. So people figured all that money had to go somewhere---why not an underground complex to house aliens?

I really wish some of the theories were true. It'd make driving 40 miles out of my way to catch a flight seem like an adventure. Instead it's an inconvenient sojourn just short of the Kansas border.