A Labor Day tradition, A Taste of Colorado came to town this past weekend. Subtitled, “A Festival of Mountain and Plain”, the weekend-long event offers a smorgasbord of food, music and art. Several blocks of downtown Denver are closed off, the homeless who nap in Civic Center Park carted away and a plethora of local restaurants set up tent to sell overpriced tasty bits and libations (the Bayou Bob’s fried pickles, however, so worth it).
This year, we chose an evening trip. One, because it was Africa hot early in the day and two, to catch perennial 80’s faves Night Ranger on the main stage. You're motoring!!! What's your price for flight? The crowd a free-concert-in-the-park-80’s-lite-metal-pop-band draws is an interesting one. My butt had barely met blanket on grass, when the mullet to my right thrust a 64 oz plastic sipper my way and said, “Hey! How you doin??!! What ya drinkin??!! Have a taste of this!!”. Given his state, I was abso-toot-ley curious, but politely declined. We saw that cup and straw make about a dozen rounds to a multitude of mouths. Ewww. I saw more acid wash tapered jeans then I realized remained in existence (please tell me that trend never comes back) and older big-haired-super-fans (yes, even Night Ranger still pulls the groupies) in leopard tanks and Mom-jean shorts, with hot pink acrylic nails pumping the air alongside teen daughters, fueling the next generation.
Some of the feeding masses, even more of a stomach churner. Shovel it in, mouth full, use the hands. Tear into the eats like a monkey on cupcake. Then forgo the plethora of trash receptacles found every four feet throughout and leave a trail of used crap.
Sister Christian would not approve.