At the Denver Museum of Nature and Science today all I learned was how to hunt like a velociraptor.

Those kids sure tasted good.

Listening to "Getting By With It's" from the album Under the Tray... by Reggie & The Full Effect

On our walk tonight Sarah and I decided to stop by our friend Legs’ place to ask him if he’d like to join us. He was busy cooking a meal but invited us in to “visit”, as the old people say. He had just burned his hand in the oven, so we were commiserating with him about that, when all of a sudden he told Sarah he might be able to see comedian Brian Regan with us on Thursday. I thought he must be confused.

I had talked with Sarah a few weeks ago about the possibility of seeing Brian Regan but had concluded I’d probably be out of town recording. After finding out yesterday that I’d be in Denver for another week, Sarah covertly went ahead and got us some tickets as my birthday present (for my …ahem… golden birthday). Then she left Legs a message asking if he’d like to go as well, making sure to mention that it was a surprise for me. Well that apparently did not register in that brain of his.

So back in the apartment… Legs tells us he might be able to go with us on Thursday. Sarah, in consternation, asserts that he must be confused, that she did not call him.

Legs, wide-eyed: “What?! You called me today and asked if I wanted to go with you to see Brian Regan.”

Sarah, staring hard: “No I didn’t.”

Legs, vacant look: “Yes, you did.”

Sarah, angry eyes: “Dude, I did not call you.”

Legs, raised eyebrow: “I’m pretty sure it was you.”

Sarah, arms flailing: “LEGS! I said it was a surprise!”

Legs, sheepish: “Uh…..”

Silence.

Laughter.

My wife is amazing.

Listening to "Hunted by a Freak" from the album Happy Songs for Happy People by Mogwai

On Sunday Sarah and I went to the People’s Fair in downtown Denver along with some friends. Normally at an outing like this Sarah and I justify the ticket price with people watching, i.e. every outlandish person we see is worth some monetary value that goes against what we paid to get in. Example: “Ooh, look at that guy wearing Zubaz and a see-through mesh belly shirt! That guy’s worth at least $1.25.” Well the People’s Fair was free, which threw out the need for this justification, but even so our people watching was a bit disappointing. The only person I thought worth any amount was a guy with a t-shirt that read “ANGER” in huge letters across the chest. Baffling.

The booths and the peddled wares therein, however, proved much more promising. There was, of course, the terrible airbrush t-shirts booth, the wind chimes booth, the men’s-tie-made-into-a-manpurse booth, and the homemade jams booth. But my favorite was the one selling hats for dogs. It was called “K-9 Kovers” or something like that. In this booth were four or five dogs in varying degrees of repose, each with his own K-9 Kover and embarrassed smile. The hats’ best marketing point (in my estimation): “Your dog can even swim with his hat on!” I thought of alerting the Humane Society.

Listening to "No Matter What" from the album No Dice by Badfinger