Downhill from here?

I've been having a pretty good year. Being the superstitious type, it scares me to even type that, but it's true. In May I celebrated my one year anniversary here at Inline. On July 3rd my fiance of 18 months and I purchased our first house.This past weekend, I was back in Michigan for my bachelor party. It was one of the most memorable days of my life. In October I'll have another unforgettable day when we say our I do's. I have much to be thankful for.

To be clear, I'm doing my absolute best to enjoy the ride. But every once in a while I hear from that little voice. You know, the one that you hear from time to time that reminds you of Newton's laws of physics? Yeah, that one. Occasionally he likes to do his best Jack Nicholson and ask "what if this is as good as it gets?" He's also been known to put together PowerPoint presentations with graphs and charts illustrating the ups and downs of life. There are even photos of roller-coasters to jazz it up and make it fun. I'd like to tell that little voice not to quit his day job, but then I realize that reminding me of these things is his day job, and well, it all goes downhill from here.

Wedding Bells in Grand Lake

Only a few weeks ago, I became the "mother of the groom" for the very first time. Our daughter, the oldest of our three children, was married three years ago and that was hard enough - a strange mixture of happiness and tears, excitement for a newly-launched family and a bit of melancholy for the child that was now all grown up! As parents, our job is to work ourselves out of a job - taking a completely dependent infant and turning them loose on society some 18 years later as, hopefully, independent, moral, loving, productive members of society.

A son's a son till he takes a wife, but a daughter's a daughter for the rest of her life! I'm sure you've heard this before and it's true. My son, Stephen and his sweetheart met each other for the first time in 5th grade. They started dating as juniors in high school and the romance endured 4 years at CU Boulder. Finally, this summer, they officially became husband and wife in Grand Lake, Colorado with Mt. Baldy and the Rocky Mountain National Park in the background. For the record, my new daughter-in-law is easy to love and has been part of our family for years before their wedding on June 26th. Still, it was a little hard releasing my little boy to another woman, I must say. For years, I was the only woman in his life. Whether I was wearing a cocktail dress or an old bathrobe, hair color or jewels, he always told me I was "beautiful" and that one day he would marry me. Aah - unconditional love. My adorable new daughter-in-law is a wonderful cook, sweet as the day is long, funny, intelligent and, not surprisingly, beautiful! As it should be, she is the new woman in my little boy's life. After multiple viewings of "Mother of the Bride" (conditioning myself so as not to cry) I behaved myself and did not dissolve into a puddle of water. Those precious memories are mine to keep, but my little boy, now a Man - is all grown up and he's going to make my dear Tahnee a wonderful husband and father.

Sturgis, SD

Sturgis, SD
Annually, I ride to Sturgis the first week of August for one of the largest motorcycle rallies in the world. It is always an incredible experience traveling by motorcycle and seeing old friends. I ride a 1999 Harley Davidson Softail (Night Train).

This year was the first year I didn’t catch any rain for the 426 mile trip. I meet up with people just like you and I, like John and Deb from MN who are farmers and Larrs who is a gravedigger (yep!) a real live gravedigger.

Sturgis, South Dakota is an amazing place for a small town of 50,000 in the Black Hills to host over 500,000 bikers in one week. There are several places of business that only open for one week during the rally. To name a few of my favorites: (and the name really says it all)

The Road Kill Café: This is a place you just have to stop by. The food is usually cold and is served on paper plates along with plastic silverware, but the name brings me back every time.

The Full Throttle Saloon: is one of the largest biker bars in the world where they let you ride your motorcycle inside the bar. This bar offers several live bands, naked bull riding and the best full on burnout competitions inside where I have watched people burn the back tires right off their bikes.

The Dungeon: is an underground bar where the patrons have /will remove their underwear right in front of you and hang it from the ceiling. There are also other things that occur down there, but I am trying to keep this clean.

Last, is the Broken Spoke: A really interesting biker bar as it has antique motorcycles throughout the bar, some dating back to the early 1900. I always like to stop by here to see the map they set up for everyone that visits from around the world. They encourage you to place a stickpin from where you have traveled. People come from all around the world (ie. Europe, Australia, Russia, China, etc.) Of course Colorado is the largest supporter of the Rally. So, the next time you are driving down the road and see a bike give them a little room, it could be me.

Chris Ex, Aug. 2009

I live in the Lodo area of Denver in a one-bedroom apartment by myself. However, most nights I’m anything but alone. Two of my closest college friends, Jimi and Cheese, (Craig’s name has been pretty much formally changed thanks to a few years in a fraternity) live below me one floor and 6 doors to the right. Upon moving into my new apartment I knew I should give a spare key to someone in case of lock out, emergency etc... Well, there were two likely candidates. Ever since that moment our other friends haven’t let any of us live down our Seinfeld living situation.
In Seinfeld, Jerry’s apartment and refrigerator have revolving doors. Jimi & Cheese have been grocery shopping a total two times since I moved in upstairs. Some days, I will come home thinking about a cold beer in the fridge only to be greeted by a beerless fridge and a text from Cheese “had a tough day, grabbed the beer”.
When I told them I was going to blog about us it was unanimous that Jimi is without a doubt our Kramar.(Hes on the left in the picture) Jimi has gone through a lot in the past year but his sense of humor and out look on life have kept all of us entertained. He is one of the most astute people I know from 9-5 (although he’ll tell you he works 7am-7pm) then all of a sudden work is over. “Jim” is put away and “Jimi” comes to life. He tells us though that “Jim” is always around cause you never know when you’re going to have “talk shop.”
Our Seinfeld story is coming to a close because, I am moving out next month to an apartment closer to downtown and only 5 blocks from the InLine offices. Although I would never tell them, I am going to miss their constant company, laughter and family feeling they’ve given me. Moving merely 3 blocks away I know not much will change. I have little doubt there won’t still those nightly 6pm phone calls “Hey Bails, what’s up, what’s for dinner?”

Off to start the weekend with a cold beer, hope there is one in there!

Kick Ball

I consider myself lucky because unlike Robbie, I don't have to wait once a year to enjoy my favorite activity. I spend every Wednesday night with a great group of friends, cold beers, feisty banter, and a big rubber ball.
This summer I have joined WAKA, the premier (and only) World Adult Kickball Association. This is my team’s first year playing kickball together. We are all seasoned athletes, who developed our skills in a long and arduous training process called “Elementary School”. However, it seems the 20-30 years since that training have left us a little rusty. Despite our full roster of 25 aggressive players, team “So is Your Face”
has yet to win a game, but we are all learning key tips for next year. For example: if you fill the outfield with girls- you cannot later be surprised when we all throw "like girls".

Now, don’t let our record fool you. We are serious competitors. Let me take you back to a time and place not too long ago (specifically two weeks ago at the City of Cuernavaca Park. It was raining and it was raining hard. Team "So is Your Face" refuses to forfeit. Clothed in our battle armor of sweatbands and random warm clothing from everyone’s trunks we take the field, beers in hand. Teammates are slipping, falling, and struggling to overcome the mud. After an epic battle, the last inning is upon us, score 1-0, we are up to kick and down by one. The first two balls are caught in the air. High fives are passed around the field. This is crunch time, we send in our big kickers...we load the bases.... this is it, everything is set, perfect for a big win. Our best kicker is up. The first ball goes out of bounds. The next ball bounces across the plate, the ref calls a strike. The pitcher is getting cocky; you can tell the next one will be a strike. Our best kicker kicks the final ball, it’s going, going...but is it gone? There is a scramble in the outfield by the other team. “RUN!” is all you hear from the sidelines. The person on 3rd runs for home, everything seems like it is going in slow motion. Team “So is Your Face” is perched on their first possible tie, or even victory, and the runner from 3rd… slips in the mud, is tagged out, and the game is over.


Yet another loss for “So is your Face”. Luckily we get to play again, next week.

That Time of Year...

My story consists of a tradition. A tradition that many people might consider laughable or pathetic, is an annual ritual that I crave. Magazines hit shelves in mid July as my emotions begin to tingle with excitement. Once August 1st passes, the countdown begins as if there were going to be a lunar eclipse in the near future. However, this is something different. Something magical. Yes, that's right, it's the world of Fantasy Football.

Every year my close college buddies from all over the country travel to Ann Arbor, Michigan for our annual fantasy football draft (5 years in the making). With notebooks, magazines, and excel spreadsheets in hand, we select what seems to be the "greatest fantasy football team" ever assembled. Hours and hours pass by as if you never want the draft to end. As some hold their heads high, others crumble into their magazines with disappointment.

As sad as this may sound on paper, this event is held with the highest regard by my friends and me. It's a time where laughs are contagious and where men can be boys. But more importantly, it's an excuse to get together once a year to remember the great times we spent in college. So for all of those fantasy football fans out there: have fun, laugh a ton, and choose your team wisely!