Some communities embrace outsiders as insiders from the second they pass Go. Plenty of people are considered real New Yorkers, for instance, the first time a cabbie or landlord overcharges them. Visit Florida, California or Washington, and chances are you'll eat authentic Latin American or Asian cuisine made and served by people not necessarily native to those states but who are still considered a critical part of their fabric and character. In September, I'll celebrate 11 years as a resident of Colorado. I met my husband, who just passed the 17-year mark in the Centennial State, six weeks after I moved here. Our children were born in a hospital 1.3 miles from the house that we own, and our income is earned within state lines. Yet by unspoken Colorado standards, neither he nor I are considered locals. [continues 548 words]
Prohibition in the United States came to an end on Dec. 5, 1933, when the 18th Amendment to the Constitution was repealed. In the time before and since, there's been no single officially designated day that's meant to encourage drinking publicly (unless you count St. Patrick's Day, the Coachella music festival or most every day in New Orleans). Were there one, you might imagine an outcry from sober people from coast to coast as their drunk counterparts stumble around the streets en masse, no doubt creating a public nuisance and quite probably a safety hazard. Of course, not nearly everyone drinks responsibly or legally at all times-publicly or privately-but at least there are no pro-drinking organizations encouraging large groups to do it outdoors for the most part just to flagrantly toast the laws putting them in violation of openly imbibing. [continues 535 words]
I'll be the first to admit I don't like to lose. I'll be the first to admit it mostly because if I'm second to admit it, I'll have lost out on first place. Did I mention that I hate to lose? As such, I empathize with Gov. John Hickenlooper, who still has (non-marijuana) smoke coming out of his ears because he opposed Amendment 64, which voters passed last fall. I opposed it, too-not because I believe pot is on par with drugs such as cocaine or heroin, but because I didn't like the lack of a solid plan at the outset for regulating it like alcohol, especially as it applies to patrolling stoned drivers on the road. [continues 631 words]
You know how sometimes when you smoke pot the wheels in your mind start turning with the sort of creativity and ingenuity not seen since the invention of Taco Bell's Cool Ranch Dorito Locos Taco? How your imagination positively explodes with intricate details of a grand vision you'll start implementing just as soon you're done watching "Pineapple Express"? Yeah, me neither, but let's just go with it for a minute, anyway. People who smoke pot with any amount of frequency see things differently than those who don't smoke pot. Therein lies the issue since pot became kinda-sorta-but-still-not-really legal in Colorado. [continues 631 words]
A couple of weeks ago, my year-old and 4-year-old daughters climbed onto the kitchen table from their chairs, despite knowing (or, more likely, because) it's a practice I don't endorse. Instead of scolding them, however, I ignored them. After they spent a few minutes giggling but also failing to get a rise out of me, they scooted back into their chairs to finish eating. They haven't done it again since. It's a parenting lesson that University of Colorado Boulder officials could stand to learn: Negative attention often breeds negative behavior, while allowing kids to act out but ultimately find a way to settle down on their own can result in better, more reasoned choices. [continues 529 words]
Sometimes, I wonder if I've gone down the wrong path in life. Sure, I'm happily married, my family is in good health, I have a career that both fulfills and challenges me and, despite the strike by the Writers Guild of America, I've discovered an entire season of a complex and sexy, new HBO drama series on Comcast's On Demand service. Yet, notwithstanding the richness of my life, I still have moments when I kind of wish I were into drugs. [continues 792 words]
