Solilochairliftquist: Chairlift Reverie

Check out this short, must-see video and definitely view it in full screen mode. This little gem will transport you directly onto Lifts 7 & 9, locals’ favorites, here in Telluride. Whether you’re alone or accompanied by someone you know or even a complete stranger, there’s no place like the chairlift for awesome daydreaming. It doesn’t get any better than this, especially in T-ride.

Thank you to Faverman Films for this delightful creation.

Drooling Over Pastry Paris

"Pastry Paris: In Paris, Everything Looks Like Dessert"

“The fine arts are five in number, namely:  painting, sculpture, poetry, music, and architecture, the principal branch of the latter being pastry.”

                                                                                                  —Antonin Carême (1783-1833)

The above quote surely served as inspiration for Susan Hochbaum in the creation of her darling book, “Pastry Paris:  In Paris, Everything Looks Like Dessert” (The Little Bookroom). A luscious treat, enticing enough to devour in one sitting, “Pastry Paris” takes my vote for the best gift-y book of the season. Lovers of Paris, pastry, history and beauty will savor it like a best-loved dessert.

“It’s hard not to love a city with a pâtisserie on nearly every block, where pastries are sold all day long to People who never get fat.”

This is how Ms. Hochbaum begins “Pastry Paris,” a clever little delight that pleases by its words, photography and design. Who has not been mesmerized by the candy-colored allure and sheer artistry of French pastries? Did you know that most of these masterpieces boast very particular names such as Religieuse, St. Honoré, Paris-Brest and the well-known Eclair? These names—with only occasional variations—are the same throughout all of France, names that have been used in most cases for centuries for the same scrumptious little cakes featured in bakeries like jewels in a showcase.

In “Pastry Paris,” you’ll learn that each pastry possesses its own story, its own special place in la culture générale of France. From Brioche to Madeleine, Ms. Hochbaum tells a tale about all of France’s beloved gâteaux as she takes you along to many of Paris’s most famous pâtisseries and landmark sites along the way. This is one visual stroll through Paris that cannot easily be forgotten.

To be extra special, I suggest you offer “Pastry Paris” with a selection of fine, French pastries.

For now, indulge in this glorious celebration of Paris pastries from Ms. Hochbaum and me by clicking here.

DCPA, The Lion King, Kevin Taylor and Other Roars About Denver’s Downtown and LoDo

The Lion King

With Halloween behind us, we can focus more on the real holiday season, the nearly two-month period that begins right about now. (You all must know that it has been moved up!) For me, one of the nicest things to do during this festive period is to go out on the town for dinner and a show, a not-too-easy feat from Telluride but certainly closer than New York.

The Denver Center for the Performing Arts (DCPA) makes such a night out worth the effort since they consistently offer a tremendous lineup of shows and performances, all concentrated within a twelve-acre, four-block complex in the heart of downtown Denver. Did you know that DCPA is the second largest arts complex in the country? Their ten performance spaces beautifully accommodate Broadway touring productions, a major symphony and opera, dance and ballet, chorales and a variety of theater groups. They can seat 10,000 people within their theaters, splendid showplaces of varying sizes connected by an eighty-foot-tall glass roof.

And tonight “The Lion King” opens at The Buell Theatre for a five-week run! This dazzling production enjoyed sell-out shows during their 2002 and 2006 engagements in Denver. Tickets are still available for this stint but as expected, they’re going fast. I hope I can take it in since I love great stories, spectacular shows and cats of all kinds.

The Bar at Kevin Taylor's at The Opera House

Wondering where to have dinner near the DCPA? Let me suggest Kevin Taylor’s at The Opera House, just steps away from any of the performances. The sophisticated, dramatic decor here makes you feel as though you’re sitting upon a stage, one in which la mise en place and mise en scène of everything—from the costumes on the wall to the food on your plates—are clearly of the utmost importance. Yes, here you can easily applaud all the visual and gustatory effects that open your evening like a red velvet curtain parting before you. Probably the best news of this performance, however, is that they serve fine food and drink in near-record time. Accustomed to catering to people in a rush, the waitstaff at Kevin Taylor’s at The Opera House always makes sure you’re served in plenty of time for your show.

Colorado native Kevin Taylor stands out as one of Denver’s top restaurateurs, boasting five dining establishments in Denver and one in Central City, Colorado. Also at the DCPA, Kevin’s Limelight Supper Club & Lounge headlines fresh and casual cuisine for the pre and post theatre crowds.

If you’re able to carve out more time, Prima Ristorante, one of KT’s other establishments, is just a short walk away in Denver’s Lower Downtown, or LoDo, one of my favorite neighborhoods of the mile-high city. Situated within the lovely Hotel Teatro, Prima features light Italian fare in an open and airy, Euro-inspired setting.  They serve breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner, so maybe you can make a meal here work with your matinée or evening performance schedule. Restaurant Kevin Taylor, also located within Hotel Teatro, commands that you spend more time à table. Haute cuisine cannot be rushed, n’est-ce pas?

Succulent Beef: The Main Act at Kevin Taylor's

The Dining Room at Kevin Taylor's at The Opera House

When at the Teatro, be sure to look around to admire their many glorious costumes on display from past theater productions at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. This boutique hotel reminds me of an Italian villa, a real gem. Even better, book a room here.

Leo, My Lion King, Roaring or Perhaps Yawning

You can also stay at The Curtis, another one of my favorites, located right across the street from DCPA. Light-hearted types—or perhaps those most in need of a good chuckle—will love it!

Aren’t the holidays supposed to be about fun and merry-making? We have enough Greek tragedies in our lives these days in any event.

Check out Hysterical in DenverViva Italia, Viva Italian Americans, Viva la Dolce Vita in Denver and Holiday Time in Denver for more stories on DCPA.  Read Fun this Summer and Year-Round at The Curtis for another mention of DCPA in my write up on one of Denver’s hippest hotels.

Read More LoDo Love, Viva Italia, Viva Italian Americans, Viva la Dolce Vita in Denver and Night Out in Denver for more on Hotel Teatro, Prima Ristorante and LoDo.

Thank you to DCPA, Joan Marcus @ Disney and Kevin Taylor for the images in this post.

Touring the Southwest with My Parents

A Great Facebook Profile Picture: Dad at the Grand Canyon

Are you familiar with those digital photo frames that display a continuous stream of select images? Well, I was back east in October visiting my parents and brought one of those frames to them as a gift. We had to enlist outside help (thanks Brian) to transfer my images onto the frame (I’m so eighteenth century), but once it started to flash our faces across the screen, we all beamed. My father especially glowed since he was finally able to see himself backdropped by a parade of images from the Grand Canyon and other notable sites in the Southwest. It was like bringing him back to the South Rim of the Canyon to gaze over the vastness and grandeur of what is most certainly our country’s greatest treasure.

We embarked on our two-week Western Jamboree just about a year ago. Fall and even winter are two fantastic seasons for visiting many of our National Parks, especially the Grand Canyon. During these times the wondrous play of light combined with a lack of crowds make these sites even more enchanting. The focal point of our trip was to be the Grand Canyon, a place my father always dreamed of seeing. At the age of eighty-four, we were ready to grant him his wish.

Grand Canyon View from Moran Point

It had taken me weeks to plan this trip since I knew that doing a road trip with seniors represented certain important considerations. My brother, David, insisted we rent a big honking SUV, something I couldn’t fathom wielding around parking lots and other tight spaces. Fortunately he was right since we appreciated the comfort and roominess it provided more than we could have imagined. We felt solid powering across the wide-open spaces of some of America’s most stunning and desolate roadways.

I had planned the trip so that we’d do an average of four hours of driving on our travel days and spend at least two nights at most of the main stops on the itinerary. This worked out beautifully since we found ourselves leaving hotels late morning, breaking up the trip with lunch and arriving at our destination toward the end of the day—just at that perfect time when the sun bathed the scenery in a golden hue. This Hollywood-lighting effect rendered the views—especially the red rocks—all the more spectacular.

We set out from Telluride and moved from an alpine landscape to more buff-colored panoramas and within an hour and a half reached Cortez, Colorado. Here we passed the first of many trading posts we’d see throughout our travels. We crossed the Ute Indian Reservation as the colors changed from beige to pink and eventually to red toward Monument Valley. The rock formations became increasingly dramatic until we arrived at the most awe-inspiring of them all, the monuments of Monument Valley. I can honestly say that my dad’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he took in their magnificence.

Dad and Me at Monument Valley

Our stay at Goulding’s Lodge, the most historic place of lodging in Monument Valley, was punctuated by the history of western movie-making in this iconic land, an introduction to the Native American culture (something particularly new to dad) and chuck wagon-sized plates of food. Harry Goulding, a sheep trader, from Durango, Colorado, established the first trading post here in 1923 and began trading with the Native Americans. After the start of the Great Depression, Harry approached John Ford in Hollywood—having learned he wanted to make a western—and showed him pictures of Monument Valley. “Stagecoach,” directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne, was the first movie filmed in Monument Valley, a setting that’s still prominently featured today in all sorts of movies and commercials. We enjoyed Goulding’s old trading post museum and film, both of which recount the rich history of movie-making in the Valley.

From Monument Valley to Kayenta and then eventually to the Grand Canyon, the scenery morphed from flat to deep divides and hills, seemingly in preparation for what some might call the greatest gash on earth. Juniper, sage brush and pignon dotted the far-reaching vistas before us. We stopped for another huge plate of food at a Diné restaurant in Tuba City. (Mom and I had not yet had our share of Navajo fry bread and dad was enjoying the beans!) I learned that the very strange name of Tuba supposedly comes from Tuuvi, the name of a Hopi Indian Chief. We contemplated stopping to look at Dinosaur Tracks just outside of Tuba City but were afraid they might disappoint. (With seniors you have to pick and choose your stops—outside of bathroom breaks—very carefully.)

At the end of the third day, we arrived at the Grand Canyon in Arizona and caught our first glimpse of this Natural Wonder of the World at Desert View Watchtower. It truly felt like a resurrection of sorts, especially for dad. This would be the first (and actually one of the best) vantage points we’d visit within the next couple of days. Words cannot accurately describe the breathtaking views offered at every landing place along and within the Grand Canyon National Park.

The Three Wayfarers at the Grand Canyon

If you haven’t been there—go! It seems as though foreigners have a better appreciation for one of our country’s greatest assets than most Americans. I hadn’t encountered so many visitors of so many different nationalities since I visited the Great Wall of China. Don’t miss what’s in your own backyard.

I visited the Canyon briefly when I was a teen and was astounded then. But this time, I became more in touch with the countless activities you can do there from visiting historical sites to hiking to shopping and more. In the company of two seniors, I dialed it down a lot, so the focus was mainly on sightseeing (and what sites there were to behold!), shopping and yes, more eating. It was just great to be at the Grand Canyon. Here huge elk herds slowed the cars, a mama doe and four babies brushed by us on our way to dinner and the smell of pine seemed to cling to the air most everywhere.

One of Our Many Animal Friends

Mom and Visitors

On the South Rim, the hub of most Grand Canyon activity including Grand Canyon Village, we enjoyed the use of a great shuttle bus service that ushered us to our various destinations. Friendly drivers pointed us in the right direction when I failed to see clearly through the abundance of maps and brochures I’d accumulated along the way. Dad, mom and I viewed the canyon from numerous points, outlooks and vistas, making sure that the walking distances were minimal for each site.

El Tovar Dining Room

We restored ourselves over terrific meals and quickly deemed El Tovar, the most renowned lodge and restaurant of the many Grand Canyon establishments, our favorite. The contrast of the dark wood paneling of their cozy interior with the brightness of the Canyon views outside appealed to us greatly. But maybe we were most lured in by their delicious food, copiously served on pearl-white china, the exact replica of what was used on the Santa Fe railroad. We were also thrilled that here we were allowed to order half portions (at least for breakfast), a growing necessity at this juncture of the trip.

Mom and I reveled in the history and tradition of the El Tovar and many of the other sites at the Canyon. We dined here one night by ourselves, having left dad back at Maswick Lodge with a sandwich and his Fox TV, an addiction of sorts that he was surely becoming itchy about by now. We enjoyed an elegant dinner and then made a beeline for the El Tovar boutique. After a visit earlier that afternoon at the Hopi House across the way, we ascertained that the Grand Canyon offers some of the best shopping in the world.

The Fred Harvey Trading Company had been established here back in the day and their tradition of selling superior quality Native American Arts and Crafts continues today. We knew that at El Tovar we’d find jewelry of the highest quality, all at a fair price. Mom purchased a stunning string of Navajo silver beads for herself and offered me an apple-green gaspeite necklace that I’ve come to cherish along with the memories of the trip. With eight Native American tribes that still call the Grand Canyon home, the Canyon is well served in Native American arts and cultural influences of every kind.

Hopi House Weavings

On our way out of the Canyon, we stopped to watch the Imax Grand Canyon film at the National Geographic Visitor Center, twenty minutes outside of the Park. This sensational film offered yet a whole other set of perspectives of the Canyon from the adventures of Major John Wesley Powell, the first known person to explore the Colorado River to  to modern-day rafting. It was terrific to see the Canyon and the mighty Colorado river from below since we had only viewed it from above. (Actually you can only see a sliver of the Colorado at certain vantage points along the rims.) Once again, I had the pleasure of seeing my dad bug-eyed at the wonders of this film. (My mom tends to be more reserved although I knew she loved it, too.)

We drove away fully satiated. The Grand Canyon did not disappoint.

“What a ribbon of road,” my mom exclaimed as she cruised along one of the seemingly never-ending stretches as we headed back in the direction of Kayenta and Monument Valley toward Bluff, Utah. It was the end of the day and the colors were changing from taupe to magenta to vermillion. We thought we had had enough of exclaiming over the scenery but at this point of the journey, we were mesmerized by the marbleized rust and cream tones of the earth.

Mom and Dad at Goosenecks

A quick stop at Goosenecks, a spectacular geological site, featured in the film “Thelma and Louise,” starring Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis broke up the drive. Just enough for a few more oohs and aahs and another photo opp. We arrived in Bluff, Utah, a remote southwestern Utah town settled by Mormons in the 1880s, as the sun was sinking behind the red rocks and the sky muted into pink apricot. With its stunning red rock formations, millions of years of geological history and canyons that beg to be explored, it’s no wonder retired geologists and outdoor enthusiasts populate this isolated outpost today. We had a disappointing stay at the Calf Canyon B & B but our dinner at Cottonwood Steakhouse scored huge points on ambiance and authenticity. We reveled over their char-broiled steaks, cowboy beans, roasted potatoes and an unbelievably tasty apple pie. Our food fest throughout the Southwest had finally concluded. It was time to go home.

Our drive back to Telluride presented more transcending landscapes dominated, by red and beige and then copper and gold to dark green as we approached higher elevations. We marveled at the fall colors flanking the La Sal mountains outside of Blanding. I gazed wistfully out at the scenery of the Great American West, wondering if anything like this would ever be repeated with my parents again. Probably not. It was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, for all of us.

Thankfully we have many of the images from that trip on display on our digital photo frame, ever-lasting memories that will remain forever grand in our minds.

 

“The meaning of life is to make life meaningful,” as A.C. Grayling, a contemporary thinker and philosopher, stated in today’s New York Times.

For more about traveling with seniors, read Traveling with Seniors:  A Lesson in Patience and Humility.

Note that we rented our vehicle from Alamo at the Montrose, Colorado airport and enjoyed excellent service.

MLK, DC’s Black Heritage, Chuck Brown, Frankie and Me

Martin Luther KIng Memorial

With all the press lately about the official opening of the Martin Luther King Memorial, I thought I’d share with you a spirited night in Washington, DC spent with my oldest brother, Frank. He’s a real doer and whether it’s work or personal, he knows how to select and orchestrate all the right elements to achieve maximum results. In this case, it was about showing his younger sister a good time.

He had reserved a late Sunday afternoon and evening for us in August. Chuck Brown, the Godfather of Go-Go, a style of music that incorporates jazz, funk, R & B, hip-hop and dancehall, was to be the main attraction. Frankie had secured the tickets at DC’s renowned 9:30 Club as soon as he knew I was headed his way, about a month before the show. I hadn’t heard anything about Chuck Brown, but trusted that my brother was lining up a fun night out. He’s a big planner—much like me—and that quality along with a nice dose of serendipity laid out an evening that bobbed along beautifully on a helluva cross cultural theme.

Without any discussion whatsoever, the car pointed in the direction of the freshly-opened MLK Memorial. It was the Sunday after Hurricane Irene blew through our nation’s capitol (along with most of the eastern seaboard), so the Memorial’s official opening—slated for that weekend—had been postponed. Frank and I thought we’d check it out anyway since although not properly christened, it was open. No luck. We drove along the Potomac on the roadway bordering the monument, creeping along with the hope that we’d find a car that would pull out and leave its parking space for us. No way. You couldn’t even shoehorn a moped in between the lineup of vehicles. Not surprisingly, most of the visitors headed to or from the MLK Memorial were African-American or at least of some kind of Negro heritage. They had waited long enough for the tribute to their esteemed leader—it was time to take a look. Frank and I gave up searching for a spot. I felt somewhat disappointed but bowed out gracefully with the sentiments that it would be best for us to leave any free parking to the people for whom Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King’s I’ve Been to the Mountaintop speech meant the most.

Frank zoomed off to the Greater U Street district where we’d later be taking in the concert. We parked and began to explore. Here I discovered a culturally diverse neighborhood, peppered with all kinds of people from varying social classes. It took me a total of two minutes to notice a lot of buff and stylish gay men, always a good sign, indicating that a neighborhood has been gentrified enough to possess a worthwhile dining and shopping scene.

“Ever eat Ethiopian?” Frank asked. I admitted I hadn’t but always wanted to try. “Well you know you’re going to have to eat with your hand,” he quipped, almost like a dare. Suddenly images of his travel tales in Africa where you eat with the right hand and take care of the “necessary” with the left flashed into my head. He must have noticed my hesitation, since in perhaps an effort to assuage my confusion, he informed me that at these Ethiopian restaurants you scoop the food up with bread.

“Well, then that’s O.K.,” I piped up, almost defensively. My brother knows me as one to be enchanted with fine restaurants and hotels, so I was determined to show him a more adventuresome side of myself. I had been referred to as “fussy Aunt Bessie” one too many times in my life anyway.

Sitting out in the sidewalk seating area of Dukem Ethiopian Restaurant watching the colorful parade of people pass by with my bro was great fun. I found the food tasty but couldn’t get past the spongey, amoeba-like bread served with it. I felt too proud to eat the spicy and savory mélange of meat and vegetable dishes solely with a fork and instead nearly gagged downing the gelatinous substance referred to as bread. The restaurant was packed, so I figured it was more of a mental block for me. I guess I won’t be going to Ethiopia anytime soon.

Ben's Chili Bowl

It was a delicious summer evening and after dinner, Frank and I strolled through the neighborhood, checking out the scene from end to end. I was delighted to discover that Greater U Street is considered the historic heart of DC’s African-American community. I stopped in front of a plaque indicating Lincoln Theater, now restored to its 1922 grandeur. Cab Calloway, Pearl Bailey, Sarah Vaughan and Louis Armstrong all performed there. I imagined the elegance of the folks that attended these great events during an era when every man had to wear a tie. (And you can bet the ladies were dressed to the nines, too!)

We stopped at Ben’s Chili Bowl, a National Landmark, one of the oldest, continuously running black-owned and operated businesses in the country. Founded in 1958, Ben’s has witnessed a lot of happenings during its history including the riots of 1968 following the assassination of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King. I checked out their brightly-lighted interior and perused their menus. The restaurant serves breakfast, lunch and dinner and I suspected they were packed during most of their hours of operation. As much as I enjoyed sitting on a patio with Frank, I couldn’t help thinking that bellying up to the counter together would have been a real hoot.

Ben's Chili Scene

We read more plaques on our way to the 9:30 Club and peeked into a few more restaurants. The place was hopping and Frank confirmed that Greater U Street, DC’s historic Black Broadway, was experiencing a resurgence of nightlife today.

Chuck Brown: The Godfather of Go-Go

The 9:30 Club stands out as one of the hottest places to listen to music in all of DC. By the time we arrived, it was already raging. Frank and I made it to the upstairs balcony and claimed a sliver of space where we remained for the rest of the show. The immense, dark cavernous space was packed and as I looked around, noticed mostly with people of color. Wow, I thought to myself, we have a very vibrant music scene in Telluride with world-class performers such as David Byrne, B.B. King, Mumford and Sons and more that headline our big music festivals, but our audiences are almost entirely white-bread even though people come from near and far. What a fabulous destination I had found myself in!

My brother grinned ear-to-ear and we both began to groove and gyrate to Chuck’s runaway beat. I felt the floor shake beneath me. I brushed off an Oh God moment, but still made note of the exits in case of emergency or some other need for mass exodus. Wind me up Chuck was setting the house ‘a fire and my brother and I were fanning his flames. I raised my hands and clapped to the beat. People exploded all around us. But as I scanned this large venue, I noticed that everyone was punching their fist—mostly their right one—into the air. I tried that, but it felt strange, so I kept reverting to raising my hands and clapping them together à la Telluride. More Black power. Then more fist pumping. The floor swagged and swayed. Frankie smiled. And then finally I punched my right fist up into the air and screamed. Ya-hoo! Gotta love Go-Go.

Frank and I could barely drag ourselves out of bed the next morning. Thank goodness he’s a go-getter, since he has to work to preserve our country’s Social Security. I’m just a freelance writer out for a good time.

I can’t wait for another outing with my bro in DC. Somehow I think next time it might very well include an actual trip to the MLK Memorial. Maybe I’ll make him swing by Ben’s Chili Bowl for a chili dog afterward. Their famous chili is known to make a hot dog bark. Or a white girl pump her fist.

MLK Memorial

The African-American Heritage Trail in DC boasts some two hundred historic sites around the city, about one hundred of them featuring plaques. You can find sites and plaques in almost every neighborhood of the city. Visit Cultural Tourism DC to find out more.

9:30 Club, 815 V Street NW, 202-265-0930 or 877-435-9849 for tickets.

Dukem Ethiopian Restaurant, 1114-1118 U Street NW, 202-667-8735.

Ben’s Chili Bowl, 1114-1118 U Street NW, 202-667-0909.

A Couple of Other Restaurants I Scouted Out within the Greater U Street Neighborhood

Coppi’s Organic Restaurant, 1414 U Street NW, 202-319-7773; a Zagat-rated restaurant.

American Ice Company, 917 V Street NW, 202-758-3562, a hip bar and restaurant near the 9:30 Club.

Note also that the scene at the 9:30 Club changes according to the performer. My brother is slated to see my guy Willie Nelson there in November!

Thank you to the Washington, DC Martin Luther King Jr. National Memorial Project Foundation, Gediyon Kifle, Chuck Brown and Ben’s Chili Bowl for the use of the images in this post.

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