Smile Train Shows This Weekend

Yup, it's that time of year again. Thanks to my co-coordinator, Steve Loukas, and the pure naked decency of four - count 'em - FOUR improv groups, we are able to put on three comedy improv shows this weekend - all benefits go to Smile Train.

Nobody knows why but 1 in 700 children is born with a cleft lip and/or palate, like little Shiva here - at left. (See her post-surgery photo below.) For reasons unknown, there seems to be more of these children in poor countries. Perhaps something in the water? Generally, the family reacts with sadness and horror, often abandoning the child by the side of the road and taking it as a curse upon them. Can you imagine? 

When it happens in this country, it's a fairly easy fix. Not so in rural sections of places like Africa, India and China. Smile Train has fixed 618,000 of these kids so far by training the local doctors and putting 100% of all donations toward surgeries. Fixing one child permanently costs $250 and takes 45 minutes.

The average age of the Smile Train patient is 6 six years old - old enough to know something is wrong with them, as many no longer attend school because of the taunts.

As many of you know, I grew up having multiple facial surgeries and it was no picnic. However, thanks to the luck of my Western birth, the steadfast love my family and friends, it seems like a distant memory - like it all happened to someone else. Still, I feel much gratitude - hence, this annual fundraiser.

If you are in Colorado and near the Denver area this weekend, please come to our shows! Tickets are $15 and can be purchased in advance from the links below.

Friday @ 7:30  - featuring The Rodents of Unusual Size and Monkey's Uncle!
Saturday @ 6 - featuring Intentionally Left Blank and The Denver Wigs!
Saturday @ 8- featuring The Denver Wigs!

If you can't make the shows but would still like to donate, please go here. NO AMOUNT TOO SMALL. Even $25 pays for sutures for one surgery. Last year we fixed EIGHT kids and made them whole again. I visited the Smile Train offices in New York recently and was informed that so far, Smile Train has fixed 618,000 children which translates to a lot more smiling going on in this beat-up world. 

 

To watch the trailer for 'Smile Pinki', the Academy Award-winning documentary on one girl's journey on Smile Train, go here.

(All photos borrowed from SmileTrain.)

Gulf Coast Recovery Video: Make It Count

I'm still digesting all the amazing conversations and experiences of BlogHer '10 but a personal highlight was seeing some of my Gulf Coast photos included in the Make It Count video shown at the show's kick-off.  In honor BlogHer's 2010 Voices of the Year Gala and Art Auction (curated by Kirtsy), they asked Katherine Center to make a short movie honoring the auction's intent to help clean up the Gulf Oil spill in the Gulf. 

The entire video is lovely and I love the narrated thoughts that accompany the images, particularly the advice: "Pay attention." My photos begin at :51 and are featured mostly through to the end. 

NEW YORK

I've just returned home after spending the last week in New York for BlogHer '10 and it was a super crunchy Big Apple time had by all. I arrived a couple days early just to soak up the greatest city in the world before all the bloggy madness began. As much as I love the outdoors, this girl needs a dose of NYC every once in awhile; just to marvel in its relentless third-rail energy and take in some big city culture.

My eensy Pod room.

I checked into my favorite NYC hotel, The Pod, (where I always obtain deep sleep in my tiny pod room) with big, big plans for myself - MOMA, Natural History Museum, Statue of Liberty, Museum of the City of New York, International Center for Photography, Museum of Radio & Television - but none of these happened.

Instead, I ended up wandering dreamily every day into Central Park to eat my lunch and indulge in luxuriant reading and people watching. It got to the point where people asked me for directions - "Where is Strawberry Fields?" being the most popular question. Thrilled to be mistaken for a local, I was only too happy to help.

New York city is just one big fucking miracle. Don't even get me started on the elaborate NYC subway system - an engineering feat that my tiny brain can barely grasp.

It's hard to imagine that Europeans bought this island in 1626 for $24 worth of beads from the Lenape tribe, who were living there at the time. That's about $1,000 in modern currency, which might buy you a dirty curb at today's real estate prices, nothing more.

Much as I was drawn to Central Park during the day, Times Square would pull me in at night, like a zombie drug. With a large portion shut down to car traffic, the area is a meeting spot for every kind of human you can think of. One night I sat on the phone for hours with an old friend while a creepy Latino stood nearby, insisting I take his compliments. "You are beautiful. I SAID 'You are beautiful!'" 

A few nights later, I was there with my friend, Beth, and we came upon two guys playing an oud, a pear-shaped instrument that sounds like a sitar. It's used in Middle Eastern music, has no frets and a long white 'pick.' It has a bent back neck and looks like it may have derived from the lute.

We sat and listened for awhile to the beautiful music while some young blonde girl babbled in my ear about wanting to be an actress. She decided that she loved me and I decided she was a druggie loon. Still, it was a lovely encounter with an exotic instrument, and where else would I learn about it other than Times Square? Saved me a trip to Qatar, that's for sure.

And then, of course, there's Broadway.

When I arrived on Tuesday night, I hurriedly checked into The Pod and started sprinting toward the St. James Theater on 44th. My pal, Laurie, had gamely offered to buy us half-price tickets to 'American Idiot' (Green Day's musical) and all I had to do was get my butt there before curtain. But, my feet were too slow and the cabs weren't moving so in the end, I jumped on a pedi-cab and watched my driver go toe-to-bumper with very large tour buses; he would not be intimidated. Also, he spoke little English and had legs made of lightening.

In the end, pedi-boy pulled up to the theater just as the line moved into the building - huzzah! What an entrance! I then sprang for a quick beer for Laurie and a Jameson on the rocks for me, at which time the bartender kindly provided me with a sippy cup for my cocktail so I could enjoy it during the show. I adore how much my alcohol needs are looked after in Gotham. In fact, I brought said sippy cup home so that I may relive my satisfaction again and again.

 The show itself kicked ass, as expected. The cast of about 20 young, energetic talents of all shapes and sizes made 'American Idiot' feel like some leathered up version of 'Glee' but with newer songs and more electric guitar. The set was high and the walls were embedded with televisions, allowing for much commentary on the media.  Kudos to Green Day and the cast for executing one damn fine rock opera.

Also, Beth and I managed to escape the confines of the New York Hilton for a few hours to visit a local comedy club, Ha! The comedians were all men, all funny but a bit lazy - meaning they relied too much on swearing, poop and sex jokes. First up was Kevin Brown, who plays Dot Com on the hit show, '30 Rock.' Kevin was big, he was funny but most of all, he was CUTE. Beth and I developed permanent crushes on the spot.

On our way home, we stumbled across an amazing site: At 3:30 in the morning, a line of people nearly half a block long all waiting for "the best halal in the city", as one fellow informed us. Evidently, they open at 7:30 p.m. and stay open until 4:00 a.m.

The food, mostly lamb, smelled HEAVENLY. Beth and I (she a vegetarian, me - always trying) were both very tempted by the incredible aromas and the enthusiastic eaters. This truck has a loyal local following and consistently shows up as one of the best street food vendors in the city. Located at the corner of 53rd and 6th Ave. - make sure you check it out on your next NYC visit.

Although it was great to come home to Colorado amidst an exciting lightening storm and a flooded kitchen (don't ask), I gotta say, I miss the Big Apple already.

GOD BLESS NEW YORK.

Bon Voyage, Larry!

Ballsy Larry at my 43rd birthday party, with help from Howard the Tongue and Tami Bonos on French-Fry Penis.

It's always hard when cool, funny people leave one's sphere. Such is the case with Larry Epstein. I've known him for years now as a fellow comedian and a key member of one of Denver's funniest comedy improv troupes, Monkey's Uncle.

What with his fancy PhD and all, he's scored an important job in Boston (Harvard, specifically) to help some troubled kids deal with that nasty bitch called Life. Honestly, I can't think of a better guy to have on their side.

The Monkey's had a kick-ass show earlier this week to send Larry on his way. So glad I was there to celebrate. 

You will be missed, Dr. Larry!

Garden of the Gods

After living so close to Garden of the Gods for four years and yet, never actually seeing it, I finally got to investigate for myself. Oh, and it's fuss-worthy, I can assure you. GoG is 3,300 acres of jaw-dropping beauty located within the city of Colorado Springs. The park offers tons of hiking trails, bike lanes and an endless amount of immense orange boulders, ideal for scrambling over - all totally free.

Reid had made arrangements to stay at Glen Eyrie, a genuine American castle (if there is such a thing) built in 1871 by General William Jackson Palmer, the founder of Colorado Springs. Conveniently located next door to GoG, Glen Eyrie is Tudor gem, boasting 67 rooms and 24 fireplaces. It is also - we couldn't help but notice - THE perfect place for a haunting.

Our redonkulously huge room, The Castle Suite.

Now on the National Register of Historic Places, Palmer had Glen Eyrie built to comfort his wife, Mary, who'd been homesick for her native England. Glen Eyrie was purchased in 1953 by The Navigators, a Christian ministry that regularly hosts conferences and seminars on-site. (Nice of them to let heathens stay there too.) The grounds were lush and filled with giggling children and super mellow Bighorn Sheep. We found a herd of 16, with their famous Joan River 'dos, just chillaxing. Incredible.

Glen Eyrie

We spent the weekend 'ooohing' and 'aaaahing' over the castle's majestic grounds and the stunning GoG next door. The whole area is like one big geologic porn palace. Honestly. Not sure why but the landscape consistently reminded me of food. It had nothing to do with cravings or hunger, it just seemed that food was always the best description.

Exhibit A: "Petrified Bacon"

I also had another one: "Spilled Root Beer Float." Once Reid understood where I was coming from, he offered up his own example: "Chocolate cake with melted strawberry ice cream."

Bighorn Sheep at Glen Eyrie: Are they cool or what?

Other than oogling the scenery and shopping/eating/drinking in Old Colorado City, we noted two things. First, there was something very Twilight Zone going on all weekend with regards to signs and directions. It felt similar to being trapped in the Gaelic section of Ireland (true story) with everybody advising you to take mysterious Trail 14, although never meeting anyone who had actually done so themselves. The situation was repeated on car and on foot ("Um, what are we dong in Manitou Springs?") and we began to wonder what mystical GPS-related hex had been put upon us.

Pottery store in Old Colorado City

Second, I had perceived Colorado Springs as a bastion of white conservatism and unyielding Christianity. It is, after all, the home base for the evangelical Christian group, Focus on the Family, whose website currently offers helpful marriage survival tips: "When a spouse struggles with homosexuality." Good Lord, do they think it's like having a migraine or something?

Hiding you from what?

 Colorado Springs is also home to the U.S. Air Force Academy. I only saw it from miles away but that sucker is ha-yuuuuuuuge. We also spotted some serious Sky Cops during our visit, which is just fine by me.

ANYHOO, the fact that we were lodging at a Christian compound only confirmed my perception. But then, something else happened too. First I noticed that in addition to those attending the conference at Glen Eyrie, there were other regular guests, two of them bi-racial couples. Not a big deal but still surprised to see it. (I have to wonder if Reid & I had been a gay couple, how that would have gone down.)

Bighorn Sheep were all over the grounds at Glen Eyrie.

Then, on Saturday evening, Reid and I ventured 'downtown' to the strip of bars and restaurants along Tejon Street. There, we saw all kinds of people, all races - many of them dressed up and partying down.

We made the smartest decision ever by setting up camp at Jack Quinn's Irish Pub, which provided an ideal outdoor spot for people watching, a super friendly waitress who sounded exactly like Paula Poundstone, yummy fish & chips, and one of the best bands I've heard in a long time - Big Paddy. It's just two guys that play there every Saturday night but the place was rollicking. There were even big, hairy dudes in kilts doing traditional Scottish jigs. FUN. Of course, the Jameson on the rocks helped too.

Note the hairy meatballs in the pock marks - hidden by God, of course.

Then there was the couple who made me rethink everything I'd heard about Colorado Springs. One half of the couple was a tall, tough looking cowgirl in full Western get-up. The cowboy hat, vest, jeans and boots didn't appear to be a costume, it looked like what she wore every day. Her girlfriend was much shorter and rounder, with deep black skin, bright pink hair and some crazy outfit straight from a New York runway. Anyone looking at them could see they were in love and honestly? Nobody (except me) looked at them twice. This was not the Colorado Springs I was expecting.

Guess there's room for Goddesses there too. Who knew?

See more photos from my trip here.

At Long Last ... Vindication

"In the past, you rented if you didn't make enough money. You rented if you weren't ambitious. You rented if you weren't sort of smart enough. But as it turns out, as we look in recent years, renting turned out to be a pretty smart thing to do."

--Nicolas Retsinas, director of Harvard's Joint Center for Housing Studie, as told to NPR

Yup.  

Over the River

Several months ago, I signed up to attend a public meeting with Christo, the world-famous artist whose large-scale outdoor installations ("The Gates" in New York, "The Umbrellas" in Japan and California, "Surrounded Islands" in Florida) brought he and his late partner/wife, Jean-Claude, much acclaim.

"Jean-Claude is with me always." 
--Christo, on the recent death of his lifelong artistic partner and wife, Jean-Claude (They were born on the same date: June 13, 1935.)

 (Photo Credit: Richard Lacayo)

A few months goes by and I receive an email reminder to get my butt downtown, pronto. So I hopped on my bike and arrived at the Seawell Grand Ballroom, sweaty but curious, about what brought Christo to Denver.

Turns out, his next big project - in the works for over a decade now - will likely take place in south-central Colorado. Called "Over the River", it will consist of 5.9 miles of silvery fabric suspended over the Arkansas River along a 40-mile stretch between Salida and Cañon City. The temporary exhibit is slated for two weeks in summer 2013. And yes, it will be high enough from the river (15-18 feet) that folks can float under it. Very cool.

The room was packed with other curious citizens and leaders in the Colorado arts/business community, including Don Marostica, the head of the Economic Development Office. (I'd worked with him before on a previous project - nice fellow and a real friend to the arts.)

Christo, a delicate gentleman with Bulgarian roots and a shock of white frizzy hair, could not have been more gracious and open. He gave a detailed slide presentation that offered full explanations on his personal life, how projects are created and financed, the full blueprint of the OTR project and details on the many, many, many meetings he must attend with governmental agencies to secure all the proper permits. (At one meeting, Christo, Jean-Claude and their team are seated across from tie-wearing representatives from 11 different U.S. agencies.)

Thankfully, standing microphones were set up for a Q&A session. Of course, I had to get my big mouth in there and began my question with this: "First of all, I just want to say how happy I am you are in Colorado." Much to my surprise, this set off a wild burst of applause and people thanked me later. (I only found it odd because two scheduled speakers had basically said the same thing; perhaps I was speaking for the 'little people'?) Christo's humbled response to my comment was a low bow with his hands pressed together, a very Dalai Lama move.

I can't remember that initial question but when I got greedy and returned for a second question, Christo laughed at me: "You again???" I simply wanted to know if, with all these large-scale global projects, it made him see the world differently - like one big canvas.

Also, was he setting his sights on the moon? He chuckled in his response: "Funny you should mention it. Jean-Claude was once asked that question and she said we would create a space project once other people are more established there." 

The public meeting lasted over two hours and I'm so glad I went. Not only will OTR will bring increased tourism to the region and global focus to Colorado but it's a real community-builder. Before even getting started on this project, Christo went to the small towns along the river and made his proposal to the residents, disclosing every detail. "Without the support of the local communities, the project would not exist," he said simply. "This should be a celebration, not an intrusion."

At the event's closing, Christo's local lawyer got up and explained how we can help. With the environmental impact statement now submitted, Christo and Team were asking us to speak out in support of OTR by attending public meetings and commenting online. They have made it very, very easy - just go here.

Despite being mobbed by fans after the event, I ended up riding the escalator with the charming artist. I told him I couldn't wait to float under OTR and I'd hoped we hadn't overwhelmed him. "Not at all," he said, "I appreciate the support and thank you for your questions."

With that, I hopped on my bike and rode home along Cherry Creek, thrilled all over again to be in Colorado where strange things sometimes happen - like internationally famous artists bowing to sweaty citizens.

Gold In My Forest

 On this week's visit to San Francisco (pang! pang! pang!), a friend took me for a drive through the Presidio, a sacred forest that was my personal backyard for nine years. He wanted to show me the many changes that had taken place since I'd left four years ago. Mainly, he wanted me to see the complete upgrade of Rob Campground, once the site of our famous "Camping in the City" parties, which I'd co-hosted with my roomie, Michelle.

 This was in 1997-98,  shortly after the Army had handed over the 1,480-acre piece of land to the National Park Service. Until then, the Presidio had been a fortified military base for 219 years and the NPS didn't start changes until the last seven years or so. I'd smugly hike through its woodsy terrain every day after work while the SF masses thronged to Muir Woods or Golden Gate Park. And other than the occasional sign warning me about buried mustard gas, I loved every inch of my secret forest. (Ironically, it was there I made the decision to move to Colorado.)

 Our 'Camping' parties were held at a scruffy site with a few BBQs and a log-encircled fire pit. Located less than a mile from our city apartment, we encouraged people to show up in cabs, with Starbucks and pizzas, just to get as much mileage out of the joke as we could. People would come in straight from business meetings in the city, delighting in the escape, and stay to sing songs and explore old Army forts.

In addition to a fabulous ocean view, the NPS generously provided firewood. They also informed M & I that we were pioneers - among the very first citizen campers on the site. They talked to us on the phone and sent us surveys, desperately wanting our feedback.

These days, Rob Campground is a full-service site, complete with cement walkways, helpful map signs and fancy showers. I hardly recognized it. I was happy for the kids who were running around that day but sad to see so much concrete where dirt once thrived. Still, I felt a certain pride knowing that my friends and I had essentially broke ground there.

Then, on the drive back, something grand caught my eye. "What is that????" I desperately wanted to know and made the car's driver seek it out. I was drawn to it like a monkey to a black obelisk. At first I thought it was natural but then it looked too ... purposeful.

I photographed the hell out of it until I could flag down an NPS dude who could provide an explanation. And then he said those magical words: "Have you ever heard of Andy Goldsworthy?" 

!!!!!!!

Here's the thing. Not only have I heard of Mr. Goldsworthy - a world renowned environmental artist - but for many years, I would give Andy Goldsworthy books as wedding gifts. This is a man who goes into nature and creates mind-numbing works of art using no tools and no other materials than what he finds there. I am NUTS for his work. NPS dude said he called it "Spire" although I prefer my friend's title: "Log Rocket."

And here, right before me, was a gen-u-ine Goldsworthy in my beloved forest. I couldn't believe it. Only my magical forest could provide me with such a perfect welcome home. Best part? No cement walkways.

No Rest

I returned home from Mississippi Saturday evening - just long enough to unpack and then pack again for my business trip to San Francisco tomorrow. Good Lord, who do I think I am? This is one of the many reasons that "Up In The Air" hit a little too close to home. 

This photo is from a very remote rest stop somewhere in New Mexico. I love the odd democracy in the anonymous survey and the generalized use of "We." With a baked brain, I stood there a bit too long wondering, "Do they mean me? Am I a 'We?'" 

Also, please enjoy one of my favorite photos from the recent family visit to Mississippi. As usual, it includes my sister-in-law, MaryAnn, who is pure love and hilarity. Here, she is entertaining us on July 4th at the Biloxi Yacht Club saltwater pool with her harrowing account of a recent boat excursion gone awry. 

While women and children were trapped on Horn Island overnight with little provisions, the men (including my brother) battled a storm and could not reach them. Circling the island and battling fierce winds, my brother even had to cut his anchor - always a last resort.

In the photo, she is reenacting her down-on-the-knees prayer to save her family: "Our Father....!" 

In the end, they were spared but came away with one hell of a tale.

July 4th in Mississippi

When my Dad picked me up in New Orleans on Friday, we got in the car and I had to laugh at his post-it reminder on the dash: "BOOZE STORE." A major priority here in the Deep South.

I've never been here in the summer and sure, it's hot, but my body is loving the moisture. My hair, my skin, my eyes - they're all drinking it up. It's just nice to not feel my skin pulled tightly for once.

Lots and lots of stuff fun activities on the water - got my ass dragged around on an innertube this morning - humbling. The fireworks last night were unbelievable. We watched 'em from the boat, where we could see the shows from Gulfport, Biloxi and Ocean Springs - and that was beyond the 'works being shot by the locals. I can't believe how many thousands of dollars were spent by so-called amateurs just for our entertainment. My brother was right, it did resemble Bagdhad - minus all the killing.

We also went to a great crab & shrimp boil party, put on by some Cajun friends. Here's a great shot of MaryAnn showing Reid how to get the most meat out of a crab:

I'm glad to say that the massive oil spill hasn't affected Mississippi too much yet, but there have been some - what my Dad calls - "globulets" wash ashore. I'll be digging into this in the days ahead but right now, I'm just enjoying the holiday from head to toes.