Happy Brim-Day to Me

Over 40 years ago, director Ron Howard made the movie Cocoon -- a "probably couldn't get made today" tale of how alien life force rejuvenates a group of retired seniors. Among the movie's cast of older actors was Wilford Brimley. I imagine Brimley may not be known at all by today's younger generations, but there was a time he was known universally for talking about diabetes, eating oatmeal, and being perpetually grizzled. He was the exactly the sort of actor that a movie like Cocoon needed.

And, impossibly, on the day that Cocoon release in movie theaters (June 21, 1985), Wilford Brimley -- professional cranky old man -- was 50 years old. The archetypal example of "older than the hills" was 50 years, 9 months, and 6 days old to be exact.

Many years later, this led to an internet meme I've found quite funny over the years: the Brimley/Cocoon Line. This website and feed have been around for a while now to essentially point out that 50 isn't what it used to be, by pointing out when famous celebrities have crossed the "Brimley/Cocoon Line," the age at which they're now as old as Wilford Brimley was on the day Cocoon was released. It was a headscratcher when Christian Bale crossed it, quite funny when Paul Rudd crossed it, and instantly aging when Drew Barrymore crossed it.

Today, I cross it.

I'm now "Wilford Brimley" old. Nothing left to do, I guess, but wait for alien intervention. At least I have family and friends, many of whom already crossed the line ahead of me. Now we can all sneak out of the retirement home together to use the neighbor's pool

We've All Been Robbed

I'm not the sort of person who is usually moved deeply by the death of a famous person. But yesterday's news about the death of Rob Reiner and his wife Michele hit differently. It was the kind of news you feel like you couldn't possibly have heard correctly the first time -- and that's before you get into the horrible circumstances, that the two were murdered in their home. But that awful end is hardly necessary for Rob Reiner's passing to feel like a major loss.

It can be difficult for a generation to know how much of its own pop culture has currency to other generations, but Rob Reiner's work spanned a few. In particular, if you ask the average movie fan in their 40s or 50s what their favorite movie is, there is a significant chance you're going to get as the answer either the Reiner-directed The Princess Bride or This Is Spinal Tap. (You could go deep on what the preference between the two says about a person, but that's a topic for a less sad day.) Both loom large in 1980s pop culture, and both have continued to play well to new audiences years later.

But Reiner wouldn't have needed either towering achievement on his resume to be a notable director. Writer Stephen King has found a few go-to collaborators in his career, but Reiner was one of the first: in directing both Stand by Me and Misery, he showed a mastery of two strikingly different tones in King's catalog. Without Reiner, we certainly would never have had The West Wing, since Reiner's direction of A Few Good Man and The American President are what built the audience for Aaron Sorkin's dense, often-imitated writing.

And for "often-imitated," look no further than the foundational rom-com When Harry Met Sally...

Those are just the highlights of Reiner's directing career. As a producer, he was a founder of Castle Rock Entertainment, which gave us City Slickers, The Shawshank Redemption, Before Sunrise (and its sequels), The Green Mile, Miss Congeniality, and many, many more. Oh, and a little television show called Seinfeld.

Then there's Reiner's acting career. He was convinced that playing Meathead on All in the Family would be the first line of his eventual obituary, though he went on to put in memorable appearances in plenty of movies (directed by others and himself).

Reiner's death feels like a big one because it's kind of impossible to imagine anyone who is even vaguely aware of film and television of the last several decades who doesn't know any of his work. What I can imagine is a lot of fans firing up one (or more) of his movies this week.

Everything Else Will Be Better

Word has traveled fast, I think, and those of you who knew Chuck Kallenbach will probably not be learning here that yesterday, he passed away. In particular, if you're still a Facebook user, you've probably seen dozens of tributes to him; he was one of those people who inspires that kind of positive outpouring.

I worked with him more than once, at different jobs and in different parts of the country. I played an unfathomable number of board games with him over the years. We traded opinions on movies all the time -- more recently continuing to do so online. He's the sort of person who, once they come into your life, never completely leaves it. And I think that's still going to hold true.

Since hearing the news of his passing, I've found myself thinking most about one particular moment in our past. We were talking about movies -- but not his personal list of the Top 100 Movies. No, the night before, he'd watched what he decided was the worst movie ever made. I regret that I cannot say with certainty whether it was Skidoo or (I'm pretty sure) a short film called 23 Skidoo.

That detail isn't as relevant as his reaction. Where other people (certainly me) would have gone on at length about how horrible the experience was, joking about "the time I'll never get back" (even 8 minutes, in the case of 23 Skidoo), Chuck took a different view: "Once you've seen the worst movie ever made, every other movie you ever see is going to be better." That was it -- don't dwell on what was bad; just move on and know the next thing will be better.

It should be obvious that I've been thinking about this so much in the last 24 hours because it's advice that's in no way particular to movies. I don't even think Chuck intended it as "advice," but then that too is the sort of person he was -- capable of just tossing out a deeply insightful thought like it was nothing.

I hope to carry that with me. 

Glenwood Getaway

Sometimes, it's fun to be a tourist in your own state. And Colorado is a particularly beautiful state for it. This past weekend, my husband and I drove to Glenwood Springs, around three hours west of Denver, for a wonderful little getaway.

On the drive up on Friday afternoon, we stopped at 10th Mountain Whiskey & Spirits, a place we came to know through their tasting room in Vail. But this stop was at their actual distillery in Gypsum, where I enjoyed a delicious praline Old Fashioned before the last leg of our journey to Glenwood Springs.

After breakfast Saturday morning, we went to Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park. It's essentially a small theme park built high on the mountainside overlooking the city; in fact, you have to ride a tram just to get to it. We rode several of the rides (including a dizzying swing that put you out in the open air overlooking the Colorado River). But we also cooled off underground with two different cave tours on site.

King's Row is more or less a large single chamber where you make your way down a long staircase, dropping a couple hundred feet (and about 10 degrees Fahrenheit), looking at all sorts of neat cave features along the way. The Fairy Cave tour is a guided tour through over a quarter mile of tunnels and rooms sprawling throughout the mountain. Highlights there included an outdoor exit to a natural terrace on the mountainside, a demonstration of the natural phosphorescent properties of the rock, and the comedy stylings of our tour guide (who clearly had done the same routine hundreds and hundreds of times, and was past giving it a full effort).

Glenwood Springs is known for its hot springs, which was the star of our afternoon stop: Iron Mountain Hot Springs. An outdoor spa resort with over 30 pools of varying temperatures, you can amble from place to place, relaxing. The clouds came out just as we arrived, which turned what otherwise might have been a too-hot afternoon into a perfect time to relax. We stuck mostly to the "adults only" side of the resort, which was not only more sedate, but also served adult beverages. A frozen drink to accompany a hot soak was a perfect way to unwind.

We were especially glad not to have planned the spa later in the evening when a torrential rain opened up to drown the city at just before sunset. We were dry inside at dinner and got to enjoy the sound through the propped-open restaurant entrance.

Sunday morning brought one more excursion before our drive home: we hiked the trail at the nearby Hanging Lake. It's a steep 1.2 miles up a mountain, but your reward is a cliffside lake so beautiful it feels like it came out of a fantasy novel. And a short walk up and behind the lake takes you to Spouting Rock, a tall waterfall that both pours over and leaks through the mountainside, in an equally fantastical display. The hike back definitely left my feet and knees aching, but it was a wonderful cap on a wonderful weekend.

Even for those Coloradans who at least occasionally travel around the state, Glenwood Springs is often just a "place on the way to Aspen." But it's very much a worthwhile destination of its own, and I really enjoyed our visit.

Genning Up Support

This past weekend was the four-day gaming extravaganza of Gen Con. For the first time since the beginning of the Covid pandemic, my work was in attendance. For the first time in even longer, I was part of the Dire Wolf Digital team sent to staff our booth and meet with industry partners.

It was a fun but very exhausting event. That's true of Gen Con even under normal conditions, and despite what some people may think, things really aren't "back to normal" just yet. Proof of vaccination and mandatory face masks throughout the convention center were part of this year's strategy to keep this event from being a super-spreader... and while I'm glad the organizers chose caution, it did increase the "degree of difficulty" for Gen Con.

After nearly two-and-a-half years of working from home, it had certainly become easy to take for granted the benefits of that situation. Plenty of people have kept on going to their work, including retail and restaurant workers who have often been mentioned in public debate. "No one wants to work," some have groused, with very little concept of what such work actually entails. I would have thought myself more informed, more sympathetic... but until I spent four days shouting over the normal convention ruckus and the muffling effects of a face mask too? It was pretty abstract.

Gen Con was a lot of fun, and the new games we were showing there seemed to go over really well. I brought back a load of games I scooped up from the show floor, finally got to put some faces (or at least, eyeballs above a face mask) to a number of people I've been emailing for months and years), and got a pleasant reminder that people really like what we do.

And also, I have almost no voice right now, my sleep schedule is wrecked, and my feet still ache. But hey, all things considered, I feel quite fortunate.

Final Tales of Minnesota

I bring you a few remaining tales of the trip my husband and I took to Minnesota.

Our last full day began with a trip to the Science Museum of Minnesota. With exhibits spread across many floors, the museum offered diverse collections of interesting artifacts, interactive presentations, and thought-provoking information. Some of it was oriented for children, but much of it was not, and it proved well worth the time.

My personal favorite (unsurprisingly) was the section devoted to human space travel, but there was plenty more to see. An exhibit on racism was incredibly powerful -- particularly a video projecting the names of black victims of police violence (playing out over the duration of time that George Floyd was choked and killed). For emotional release, a large display of "Questionable Medical Devices" throughout history (some sadly recent) was good for laughs.

The rest of our day was devoted specifically to brewery hopping. Dangerous Man had come recommended both generally on the internet and specifically by friends, and it was indeed a highlight. But Inbound surprised with a Peanut Butter Honey Blonde (no, not a porter or stout, as all the breweries do). We didn't stick just to breweries though, also stopping at O'Shaughnessy Distilling for a tasty flight of whiskeys.

We only had half of the next day before our flight home, but there was still time for a couple more stops. Minnehaha Falls is right there in the city, in a park that made for a nice walk and some beautiful photo opportunities. And ultimately, because it's quite near the airport, we spent our last spare hour-or-so back at Mall of America to grab a couple souvenirs before leaving town.

A few final random tidbits that didn't quite fit in to my stories so far:

• Cheese-stuffed hamburgers, aka "Juicy Lucys" (or "Jucy Lucys") are a big thing about town. A couple places claim to be the originator of this indulgence; I got one from the 5-8 Club.

• Wild rice is really a thing, particularly around Duluth. Basically every place selling souvenirs was selling little bags of wild rice, while more than a few road signs advertised multi-pound bags.

• There's a realtor in Minneapolis who puts his face on every billboard everywhere. But he looks more like a televangelist than a realtor. I would not trust this guy.

• Though Dunkin Donuts are in Denver too, there really aren't any near me, so I don't go very often. Thus, it was at a "quick breakfast stop" here on vacation that I learned of the existence of their "Snackin' Bacon." Well played.

• 
  I could not see any breaks in this awesome orange peel served in my Old Fashioned by Vikre Distillery in Duluth. But there MUST have been, right? I'd love to know how they achieved this wizardry.

In all, Minnesota was a lovely vacation. Thanks for indulging me as I've recounted and relived the highlights.

Cruising Around Minneapolis

After wrapping up the Duluth leg of our Minnesota trip, we drove back down to Minneapolis/St. Paul. We made a brief stop along the way at another candy store, this time at a place called Sweetly Kismet. While they didn't make their own candy on site, they did stock a variety of weird and obscure things -- in their building hidden in a forested clearing at the end of a "candy" lined dirt road, like the witch's cottage in Hansel and Gretel or something.

Our first stop in Minneapolis was the Mississippi River -- specifically, a short cruise on a riverboat called the Minneapolis Queen. Yes, it was a very "tourist packaged" experience. But also -- it does exactly what you want that kind of experience to do. We went by city landmarks including the Stone Arch bridge (among other bridges), old flour mills, and odd buildings like the Weisman Art Museum that you can see from the river. We got to pass through a lock system in the river, and were lucky enough to see a bald eagle perched high in a tree right along the bank.

Later in the afternoon, we headed over to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, a park where dozens of sculptures are scattered for you to stroll around and take in. The large "Spoonbridge and Cherry" is something of a mascot for the city, but there were all sorts of interesting creations in all sizes and styles -- including a horse that appears to be made of driftwood (but is really bronze), a big blue... rooster, and even giant suspended art you can sit on and swing.

We also visited the Mall of America, which is both exactly what you'd expect and more than you could imagine. Sprawling larger than the largest mall you've likely ever been in, and then stacked three full stories high (with still another partial level above that), it is both "just a mall" and "ridiculously excessive." Well, maybe more "ridiculously excessive," when you consider the multi-ride amusement park in the center.

We also peppered a couple brewery stops in throughout that day -- though a great many of the city's breweries are closed on Mondays. Town Hall was a solid example of "pure beer styles" with decent food, while Lakes & Legends was the most outspokenly pro-LGBT+ location we visited amid many breweries over the trip that were celebrating Pride Month.

We still had one more full day of our trip before returning home the day after, and so I still have one more post's worth of short stories to recount soon.

Duluth the Trek

Because of (waves hand at everything) all that's been going on in the world, my husband and I had not been on a vacation out of the state in three years. We decided that we deserved a long weekend somewhere. Quickly, we concluded we didn't want to go anywhere that required too long a flight, we didn't want to go anywhere that would be too stiflingly hot at this time of year, and we did want to go somewhere neither of us had been before. At the intersection of that Venn diagram: Minnesota.

We flew into Minneapolis on Saturday, but immediately set out on a drive north to Duluth. We planned for the next day to take the North Shore Scenic Drive along the coastline of Lake Superior, and wanted to be at the starting point for that morning to give us as much time to work with as possible. That actually still gave us plenty of afternoon and evening in Duluth.

The city was a little reminiscent of San Francisco, perched on a hillside with steep streets backed up right against a vast "ocean." We went to Leif Erikson Park. It's a lovely little location with easy walking between a number of different secluded nooks right along the coastline. There was a nice rose garden to stroll through (though we weren't quite there for peak bloom), and a great view of Duluth's signature skyline feature: the Aerial Lift Bridge (a 100-year-old bridge that raises entirely to let ships through, rather than breaking in the middle).

We went on to do some brewery hopping around the city, quickly discovering some recurring themes of the trip: almost every brewery in Minnesota was boldly celebrating Pride Month, and a great many were also making a Girl Scout cookie inspired beer (and sharing proceeds with the organization). Bent Paddle Brewing Company was my favorite of the stops, but there was something tasty everywhere we went.

The next morning, we started north along that scenic drive, watching Wisconsin and Michigan gradually pull farther out of view across the water as we went along. We had only a few stops in mind, and were open to pulling off anywhere that looked good. So our first stop was one actually recommended by a Duluth local the night before: the "Great! Lakes Candy Kitchen." We picked up some sweets made right there on site to take with us for the trip.

From there, it was on to Gooseberry Falls State Park. A series of falls clustered together on the Gooseberry River made for some pretty pictures, and a one-mile hike to the "Fifth Falls" gave us some exercise too. It was a fairly easy walk, with the "mile high credit" of coming down near sea level working in our favor, but was well worth the effort.

Our next stop was at the Split Rock Lighthouse, a picturesque 100-year-old lighthouse perched on a cliff overlooking the lake. We got to tour inside the lighthouse as well as the home of the former keepers, and learned fun details about the practices and designs of lighthouses as we snapped some nice pictures. That was our turnaround point, as we then headed back toward the town of Two Harbors. We stopped for delicious food at Betty's Pies, and then hit up a few more brewery stops on our way back to the hotel.

That night was the deciding game in the Stanley Cup playoffs, and we had gotten advice from locals the night before about where we could go watch it. After the tiring day we'd had, we opted just to watch from the hotel room instead. Still, watching the Colorado Avalanche win the Stanley Cup was a nice non-trip-specific capper to a fun day.

The next morning, we'd move down to Minneapolis/St. Paul for the rest of the trip... which I'll pick up with in a future post.

(Another) Morning in America

It's morning in America -- the morning after yet another horrific mass shooting at a school. It came, of course, before the families of the victims of the last horrific mass shooting could even lay their loved ones to rest. I won't pretend to have something great to say here, either profound or pithy. But I'd rather post a few thoughts on the matter, however scattered, than just go "business as usual" with another movie review or whatever today.

Last night, I attended a graduation ceremony for my niece, who is finishing 8th grade and starting high school next year. That ceremony was held at the high school where nearly all of her class will be moving onto. And that high school is Columbine.

Columbine High School was not the first mass school shooting in the U.S., though it is arguably the beginning of the epidemic as we live with it today. And we do just seem to live with it; there was at no point in over 90 minutes of ceremony any acknowledgement of where we were, or of the day on which we were there. Sure, everyone was there for a celebration, and part of me does understand not wanting to overshadow that. Maybe even most of me.

Yet also, that we all just want to soldier on and pretend nothing is so deeply and profoundly wrong? That we all just know that no one should say anything about gathering at "the birthplace of mass school shootings" on the very day of a mass school shooting? That feels like part of why nothing has changed in 23 years later.

But of course, the real reason nothing has changed in decades is that the U.S. Senate will not even take up a vote on simple measures that have not only majority support in our country, but near unanimous support. The Second Amendment is not a suicide pact, and most Americans want to see more extensive background checks, trigger locks, training requirements, age limitations, and more. Because of the filibuster, and because a significant number of senators receive contributions from the NRA and gun lobbyists, we can't even get the vote.

You don't even have to be a "single issue voter" at this point. If you care about meaningful, sensible gun control... or the retrograde restriction of women's rights... or continuing access to contraception... or equality in marriage... and so on, and so on... all those issues align one way. Stop voting Republicans into office.

Word Search Jurisprudence

Longtime readers of my blog know that I follow goings-on at the U.S. Supreme Court far more closely than the average American. This is simple logic when aspects of your own life depend on the goings-on at the U.S. Supreme Court far more than the average American. (Not that my interest is solely self-interest.)

When early this week, a draft opinion by Samuel Alito overruling Roe vs. Wade was revealed, I was not surprised. You didn't have to really be that much of a "court watcher" to know how this was going to go: for years, Republicans have told us they want to stack the courts with people who would overrule Roe vs. Wade. They were telling us directly, not dog-whistling, not slyly signaling -- boldly declaring their intentions.

But being inoculated from the surprise did nothing to mitigate the rage. That's in large part because this particular draft as written by Alito seems specifically calibrated to provoke rage. It is such a work of legislation masquerading as legal thinking, so much the very thing "originalist" conservatives decry, that it boils the blood.

Alito goes on for nearly 100 pages, but the summary of what he wrote is basically: I did a word search on the Constitution and "abortion" isn't in there. This sort of disingenuous approach to law is par for the course from Republican-appointed judges these days. I'd point out that if legal analysis was really this simple, there's seemingly no need for all the education lawyers and judges get. But then, they don't necessarily get it these days, which is why more and more Republican-nomiated judges are rated as "Not Qualified" by the American Bar Association.

The truth, of course, is that Alito and other extremist members of the Supreme Court simply stop reading the law at the point that suits them -- that point being 1787. They'll endlessly dive into the background and thinking of the framers who wrote the original document... but somehow, the 17 times we've amended the Constitution since then, the intentions of those lawmakers, just don't seem to be as important.

The 14th Amendment was about abolishing slavery, yes. But it was written knowing better even than we understand today exactly what slavery meant. When those lawmakers wrote about what it meant to "deprive any person of life, liberty, or property," they knew exactly what kind of deprivations were routine for slaves. Slaves were separated from their families, not permitted to have families, forced to bear offspring, and far, far more... "indignities" is a woefully insufficient word. Can anyone be said to truly have their "liberty" in the face of that? If they don't have privacy, or self-determination? The "word search method" of Constitutional law eschews even the simplest kind of thought exercise, because if you did so, you'd get an obvious, different answer.

And what's especially galling here, a disingenuous rot at the heart of this claim to prize "the words of the Founders," is that you have to explicitly ignore some of their words to get there. Those first 10 Amendments that were there from the very beginning? You never hear conservatives talking about the 9th. (Or frankly... any other than the 1st, 2nd, and 10th.) "The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people." That's stating in very specific terms that you can't "word search" the Constitution -- just because it's not specifically in there doesn't mean it's not in there.

When the real ruling in Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization comes down in a few weeks, I'm sure that dissenting justices will say all of that far more articulately than I. (And with a more enlightened legal foundation. These are the things you do when you actually care about "showing your work.") Sadly, the words will be a dissent.

"Word search" jurisprudence will go on to strip more and more rights away in the years ahead. Popular opinion won't limit how far they go; leaving Roe and Casey in place is favored by around 70% of the U.S. population -- even in red states -- but they're striking it down anyway with a fervor and glee that oozes "what are you gonna do about it?"

The only way to stop these draconian judges is to stop voting for the Republican candidates who put them on the bench. Don't wait for them to come for the particular law that you think will impact you personally. For one thing, they will eventually. Moreover, this law, right now, affects you personally.

Failing to Outrun the Monster

The month of March has been filled so far with people's "one-year anniversaries" of the Year of Living COVID-ly. Here's one of mine: one year ago today was the last time I worked a full day in an office alongside other people.

But I've had a much more recent brush with COVID than that -- more recent, and more than a brush. Just a few weeks ago, my husband started showing symptoms. Mine were close behind. There was a short window where we hoped it might be something else (as if people just catch a common cold right now), but soon a positive COVID test confirmed the situation. A bit superstitious and not wanting to jinx anything, I decided I wouldn't write anything about it until we'd at least made it through the recommended quarantine period.

Nope, we don't have any real idea how or where we contracted COVID. One source seemed like a good bet, but no positive tests there ever materialized. And in a stroke of good fortune, when we alerted people we'd had contact with ourselves and they got tested, there were no positive returns. It was the Immaculate Infection.

Except obviously it wasn't, which is why I decided to say something about it here. We are on the home stretch of this thing, everybody. There are multiple effective vaccines currently being administered. Quantities are on the rise, and eligibility restrictions are being reduced. A good number of people I know have already been vaccinated. We're so close!

My husband and I had not started taking any crazier chances than we had in the 52+ prior weeks in which had not contracted COVID. Maybe one of the more infectious variants got us. Maybe the law of large numbers did, in one of countless little chances to get through. Either way, with perhaps single-digit weeks left to go before we could have received a vaccine... womp, womp.

Fortunately for the two of us, COVID was a mild enough experience that I can make light a little bit like that. But obviously, that was hardly a given. We've both definitely felt more sick than this before in our lives, but the congestion we have experienced lingers, migrating slowly around my head, nose, and throat in a lazy loop every few days and getting only a little bit better with each circuit.

Could we have buttoned down a little tighter for a little longer and avoided catching it? Seems likely. Basically: now that my moment of anxiety has passed, I just feel kinda stupid.

Don't be stupid. Don't do COVID immunity on "Hard Mode" when at this point you really don't have to.

Get your vaccine as soon as you're eligible, keep being careful here on the home stretch, and let's all drive a stake through the heart of this vampire. I realize I've lost moral high ground on this, but believe me when I say I'd do things differently if I had the chance.

All the World Is Staged?

If you watched the mini-series Good Omens, you're aware of the marvelous chemistry between David Tennant and Michael Sheen. (Side note: I went to go link to my past review of Good Omens... only to discover I never wrote one! Suffice it to say, it's a joy!) Sheen and Tennant seem to have genuinely enjoyed working together, as they've now done it again in a new project: Staged.

Staged is an unusual half-hour comedy trying to salvage something good from the mess that is 2020. Co-created by writer-director Simon Evans, it's the story of Simon Evans trying to wrangle temperamental actors David Tennant and Michael Sheen into rehearsing for his next theater production. The idea is that when the pandemic is over and theaters reopen, they can be first to mount a new show because they've done their rehearsals online via Zoom in preparation. But really, the whole endeavor ambles along as a curiosity, born of a lack of anything better to do.

There's a bit of a magic trick at work in Staged, in that it's watchable, much less good. I know how I felt to hear the premise -- it sounded "too soon," "too real," "too serious" to me. Do I really want to watch a show about everyone being cloistered in their houses, doing their best to get by? I'm living that! And yet, that great rapport between Tennant and Sheen that made Good Omens so fun is back in full force here.

Also, there seems to be a looseness to the entire show that serves it well. It's either partially improvised around the outline of a script, or so convincingly acted as to feel completely natural and improvisational. Jokes build from episode to episode. Fun guest stars turn up to help the show feel bigger than you'd think, even though we're only seeing a handful of Zoom windows.

The show seems to have struck a chord, as the BBC has recently renewed it for a second run of episodes. (Sadly, the pandemic continued long enough to support more episodes of "everyone is stuck at home.") Alright, sure, the less charitable interpretation would be that it's hard to produce any new original content right now, but they can make this. But this is surprisingly fun, and not too bad under the circumstances.

Is it essential viewing? No, probably not. But if you liked Good Omens, chances are quite high you'll like this. (And if you haven't seen Good Omens? Well, watch that, then watch this.) I'd give Staged a B. Its six breezy 20-minute episodes are not a bad way to pass this time at home.

A Fall Head of Steamboat

For the last several years, I've spent a winter week up in Steamboat Springs, skiing and enjoying board games with friends. But here's a change of pace: this past weekend, my husband and I went up there with two friends for a fall weekend getaway. And it turned out there was plenty to do there, even without the snow.

We headed up Friday afternoon, stopping about halfway for pizza in Frisco at HighSide Brewing. Though it hasn't been open all that long, HighSide has already become a favorite stop on the way back from skiing. It delivered again, with a delicious blood orange and vanilla Berliner Weisse that I enjoyed with a great white pizza.

We arrived in Steamboat just past sundown, setting up at the condo we'd rented for the weekend. It was in a perfect location in the center of town, with almost everything we wanted to do in easy walking distance. We made use of that right away, trying the whiskey at Steamboat Whiskey Company (not great), and then chasing that taste away with appetizers and drinks at a bar and restaurant called Laundry.

Before bed, the four of us completed the final game of Pandemic Legacy: Season 1 campaign, which we've been slowing working at for more than a year. It was a nice, memorable setting for that final momentous game. (As for the game itself? Well, I suppose I'll have a blog post about that in the not-too-distant future.)

The morning brought more gaming (after breakfast at Creekside Cafe), and then a return trip to the Crooked Key escape room. It's been a favorite stop of ours on every ski trip; we've been back again and again. They're now running a new game that's more scavenger hunt than escape room, Key to the City: S.K.I. This game sends you out into Steamboat Springs itself, carrying a backpack loaded with combination-locked goodies, and armed with an app on your smartphone. You have to hike around the city, solving clues to lead you to actual locations, and learning a bit of Steamboat history along the way. We enjoyed the hunt (and finishing with the third best score/time out of 100+ teams to play it so far was icing on the cake). The only downside? We've now done every room/game that The Crooked Key has to offer, so we won't be able to go back during this next winter's ski getaway.

We'd picked the right September weekend to be in town, because that afternoon we were able to go to Steamboat's OktoberWest event. At the ski resort, right at the base of the gondola, dozens of breweries were pouring a huge variety of beers. A Beef Cook-Off event was part of the fun too, with several delicious options from tacos to stroganoff to fancier presentations than you'd ever expect to see at a beer fest. And all of it was sprawled around a beautiful landscaped creek that had secretly been hiding there under the snow every time we'd been there to ski for the past several years. Great fun, and oh so tasty.

After returning to our condo, we'd planned to get in another game before dinner, but were rudely interrupted halfway through by a citywide blackout! A blown transformer literally took out everything, but fortunately our next evening plan was both outside town and didn't require electricity: a visit to Strawberry Park Hot Springs. I've written before about this nice place to relax and soak away your aches. It's maybe not quite as satisfying if you don't have post-ski pains to work out, but it's still a lovely spot to stargaze (even with a full moon spoiling half the sky).

Sunday morning began with some sweets from Powder Day Donuts. Then, after checking out of our condo, we played a round of disc golf. Thunderhead Disc Golf Course is a 19-hole course right on the very same mountain as the skiing. It begins right next to a closed-down-for-summer ski lift, and takes you over a mile all around the area, through very long and challenging holes. We were all exhausted by the end of it, but we'd had a great time. And despite it being only the second time I've gone disc golfing this season -- for the first season in years -- I posted a score I could be fairly proud of. (Better than I averaged back when I was going regularly!)

Our last stop was at our favorite Steamboat brewery, Mountain Tap. Delicious garlic knots and pizza, a passionfruit beer my husband loves, and a solid saison for me (extra refreshing after the long hike of disc golfing) was a nice capper to the weekend before starting our drive back down to Denver.

In turned out there was just as much fun to be had in Steamboat Springs even without the skiing. It was a great short getaway right as summer is coming to a close.

A Walk in the (Rocky Mountain National) Park

My husband and I just got back from a three-day weekend where we decided to be tourists in our own home state. We hopped in the car and drove up to Rocky Mountain National Park. We took our time getting there, stopping in Boulder at both Twisted Pine Brewing Co. and Upslope Brewing Company, and ultimately arrived at Estes Park in the late afternoon.

We checked in at the Stanley Hotel, the place made famous for inspiring Stephen King to write The Shining. And boy, do they know it. By the end of our two nights there, we felt they'd surely have torn the place down decades ago without the shot of Shining-based tourism. From the pipes leaking into our closet from the room above to the computer/credit card systems that were down for most of the weekend, it wasn't a great place to stay. Pretty, though. All the furnishings were carefully selected to blend early 20th-century with Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation. It was sort of fun, in a visiting a movie set kind of way. (Even if the Stanley was only used in the 90s TV mini-series, not the original film.)

On our first night in town, we sampled the first of three Estes Park breweries: Lumpy Ridge Brewing Company, which is located in a converted old gas station (and which has pretty solid beer). We also stopped at Snowy Peaks Winery to taste some of their offerings. We enjoyed their wine enough to bring a few bottles back to enjoy later. We then had dinner at the Dunraven Inn (delicious Italian food) before walking the shops of Estes Park (seemingly half souvenir shops, half salt water taffy stores) on a lovely summer night.

The next day, we trekked all over Rocky Mountain National Park. We went for a drive up Old Fall River Road, a less traveled (and less often open) one-way dirt road that was the only way across the park before the construction of the more famous (and maintained) Trail Ridge Road.

There are all sorts of great sights to see along the nine-mile drive, from a picturesque waterfall (Chasm Falls) to bright green meadows to forested paths to snow-covered valley walls in territory home to marmots -- ending up at the Alpine Visitor Center, near the highest point in the park.

From there, we continued along Trail Ridge Road, farther west into the park and intending to find a spot for an afternoon picnic. We'd planned all the food, but a heavy afternoon downpour spoiled those plans. We parked the car just a few feet off the Continental Divide and ate there, watching the rain pour all around us (half into the Pacific, half into the Atlantic, of course). It did finally let up enough for us to stop for a short hike around a spot called Lake Irene. The trail was covered with puddles from the storm, but we had the place mostly to ourselves, with people not yet coming out again after the rain.

Next, we backtracked on Trail Ridge Road, but not yet to returning to the hotel. We headed to the Glacier Gorge Trailhead for a short hike to a popular spot in the park, Alberta Falls. It's a lovely spot for pictures... it's just really hard to get one without any other people in them. We considered briefly a longer hike back up to a more secluded location, but decided it was a bit late in the afternoon for that. (Plus. we weren't as fully outfitted for such an adventure as we'd have liked.)

The evening back in town saw us trying the two other local breweries, Estes Park Brewery and Rock Cut Brewing Company. Neither was a standout, though the former was also having their fun riding the Shining gravy train, with multiple beers named in reference to the book. After another sunset walk among the shops in town, we closed down the night back at the Stanley Hotel in their whiskey bar. Neither of us is an aficionado of whiskey, but we appreciated how rare it was to find a place with literally hundreds to choose from. We were guided to a good choice by our server, sipping slowly amid the bustling Saturday night crowd.

When we'd planned our weekend, we weren't sure whether we'd want to head back into Rocky Mountain National Park on Sunday too. As it turned out, we were in a lazy mood. We didn't do much that morning but take a quick trip through the hedge maze they've planted in front of the Stanley -- again, in honor of the Shining. (Only installed four years ago, it hasn't had time to grow to heights that make it particularly difficult to navigate.) Some coffee and breakfast, and one more quick browse of the town shops, and we were on the road back home.

Rocky Mountain National Park has some beautiful spots. But also, you kind of can't go anywhere in Colorado without stumbling onto beautiful spots. Those of us lucky enough to live here are pretty spoiled. And being a "home state tourist" was a nice opportunity to appreciate that. We saw license plates from all over the country or people who drove days to get here. We saw it all, and then were comfortably back home in less than two hours (even after a traffic delay for a huge weekend festival in Lyons).

It was a lovely little getaway.

Getting All Up in That Grill

I rarely go for reality shows, and when I do, they're almost never about food. But somehow, I've found a soft spot for Netflix's Nailed It! Hosted by the hilarious Nicole Byer (who manages just the right blend of sweet and caustic), this is a bake-off show featuring contestants who can't bake. Each episode presents impossible challenges of elaborate cakes to be made on ridiculously short timetables, and the results are predictably (and laughably) horrible.

In my circle of friends, I'm not the only one who has been enjoying Nailed It! Indeed, it seems I'm not even the one enjoying it most, because someone floated the idea to do a "Nailed It party" and try it ourselves -- an event that came together this past weekend. We selected a particular cake from an episode of the show that seemed not too far out of reach, stocked up on fondant, dyes, edible markers, and colored sprays of all sorts, and gathered together to try our luck.

We selected the "Barbecue Grill" cake from a second season episode:

This involved multiple stacked-and-carved cake layers, fondant covering and replica food, Rice Krispies beer bottles... and a lot of effort.

Amazingly, so many of us went in on this crazy way to spend an evening that we had couples, families, and friends all teaming up to create six different cakes! Obviously, we didn't have enough oven space or mixers in one place for all that, so we made a few concessions on the time limit: everyone baked their cakes ahead of time, and got a chance to make their butter cream icing before the time officially started.

We gave ourselves two hours. This is as much time as contestants on the show had to do the entire thing -- without partners. But then, they had so many supplies on hand that there was no need to share, as well as professional tips should they need them. Oh, and a $10,000 prize for motivation. (No such stakes for us.)

It turns out that cake decorating done this elaborate is -- unsurprisingly -- both fun and really hard. Fondant is really hard to work with. You want to roll it out as thin as possible to minimize the weight you're adding to a precariously stacked cake. (Also, does anyone actually like the taste of fondant?) But roll it out too thin, and it tears as you try to drape it onto your cake. Oh, and good luck smoothing out the wrinkles, hiding the joins, or dyeing it to the right color.

The grill itself turned out to be quite the challenge. That inward slope to the stacked cakes caused more than one of our group's efforts to collapse at some point during the night.

...but hey! Paste it together with butter cream and cover it up with fondant. It still tastes good, right? (Good enough, in fact, that the cake above would, after all was said and done, "win" our little "competition!")

Where everyone seemed to shine was in sculpting the food for the top of the grill. Every one of the six cakes had one piece or another that looked really good -- from shrimp kebabs to perfectly browned hot dogs to convincing corn to Swiss cheese on a tasty-looking burger. There were some great beer bottles too.

The cake me and my husband made landed somewhere in the middle of the pack, but we had a good time making it. (Even if hunching over the table to work on it for two hours gave me a backache that followed me all the way to bed.)

I'm in no rush to do this sort of thing again. For one thing, it results in a truly preposterous amount of dessert. I doubt that I'll be looking to make some fondant-draped piece of cake art for the next special occasion that comes along. Still, we all had great fun at this unconventional party.

Perhaps you have yet to discover that cake is your true medium as an artist. Give it a try! How hard could it be?

Flights of All Kinds

The last full day of our Napa Valley trip... wasn't spent in Napa. We headed to the neighboring Sonoma Valley instead, starting our day in downtown Sonoma. We walked around, checking out random stores -- and looking for one place in particular.

The day before, while at Cakebread Cellars, we got to talking about our plan for an afternoon picnic somewhere in Sonoma. We were advised to check out the Vella Cheese Company near Sonoma Plaza, not just to pick up some great cheese, but also a purportedly phenomenal butter. A San Francisco local, also sampling wines at Cakebread, jumped in to endorse the suggestion. The butter is "amazing," we were assured. So first thing on our Sonoma day, we tracked down the place and bought both cheese and butter to tuck in our cooler, all the while wondering how good it could possibly be.

Next we had an hour drive ahead of us. We were headed closer to the coast, and to the Redwoods. The drive took us through Petaluma, California -- and the most acrid, rancid, shockingly bad odor any of us has ever encountered. Colorado residents: think Commerce City and Greeley somehow combined and amplified. I dubbed this memorable smell the "Petaluma Funk." I Googled after the trip was over and learned it has the far more clever name of the "Sonoma Aroma," which can be attributed to local dairies, the seasonal spreading of cow manure over local fields, or both. It is haunting. Fortunately, we planned no stops in the area.

We made our way to Sonoma Canopy Tours, a zipline course through the Redwoods. It was the first time my husband and I had ever been ziplining, and a great location to try it out.

Seven different lines (plus two Temple of Doom style rope bridges and a "rappel" off a platform at the end) led throughout the Redwoods.

At heights of up to 250 feet, speeds of up to 40 MPH, and with one line 1500 feet long, it was great fun.

Afterward, we headed over to Kendall-Jackson Wine Estates. K-J is another kind of wine widely available here in Denver, but there were opportunities there at their tasting room to try things you couldn't get elsewhere. We enjoyed a flight, then selected our favorite and bought a full bottle to take outside to a gazebo on their grounds.

Picnic time had arrived. There at Kendall-Jackson, we pull out a variety of cheese, bread, crackers, and fruit we'd brought with us. Plus, of course, the famous Vella Cheese Company butter. Maybe it was the power of suggestion, or maybe the buzz of the wine, or the lovely view, or the fond feelings of the trip overall... but that butter was everything it was promised to be and more. Somehow it was both light and rich, airy but also flavorful. It was damn good butter, and we'd wished we'd brought about twice as much bread as we did. (We took the rest back home for toast the next morning.)

The special alchemy of scenery, butter, and Kendall-Jackson wine finally wore us down. All trip, every winery we'd visited had sought to sign us up for their wine club. Special bottles only available from the winery! Personal shipments multiple times a year! (And, in many cases, exorbitant prices for the service.) Cakebread Cellars had almost convinced us. Kendall-Jackson, with a more reasonably priced club that still included Sonoma exclusives we couldn't get back in Denver, finally closed the deal. A few times a year, we can look forward to shipments from the winery that also double as reminders of the great time we had on the trip.

One last dinner back in Napa, and our vacation was basically over. We drove back into San Francisco the next morning and caught a rather turbulent flight home to Denver. (A nervous old woman in our row wailed dramatically with each shake, declaring repeatedly that "this is the worst it's ever been!") But a few bumps at the end of a flight were nothing compared to great times we'd had flitting through wine country. At more than a dozen wineries in five days, maybe we overdid it a bit? But hey, that's why we went.

We got everything we'd hoped for.

Let Them Drink Cakebread

Our fourth day in Napa Valley began at Cakebread Cellars, one of the few places on the trip we'd picked out more for the wine than the sights. We arrived a bit earlier than our reservation time, and were treated to a mini-tour of the facilities -- including a more rare sample or two they don't always pour. (That's what they tell all the guests, I'm sure.)

Cakebread is a wine my husband and I discovered at a fancy dinner years ago, that we pick up now and then for special occasions. The name didn't quite stick in our heads the first time around, which led to our discovery of Cupcake wine -- a less expensive but "decent for cheap wine" wine. Hilariously, as our guide at Cakebread Cellars was leading us through the tasting tour, he brought up this name confusion unprompted. Cupcake Vineyards named themselves on purpose, he opined, to capitalize on "accidental purchases" meant for the more respected, higher quality Cakebread Cellars. If true, we certainly fell for it. The genuine article does taste better though. Enough to be worth the notably higher price? Perhaps not... so we resisted the temptation to join their pricey wine club.

In driving all around Napa Valley over the previous few days, we'd driven by Robert Mondavi Winery several times. My husband and I had stopped there years ago and not been particularly impressed. Still, their place looks beautiful and inviting. And their wine is widely distributed all over Denver; if you've ever paid even a little attention in the wine section of a liquor store, Robert Mondavi is a name you'd probably recognize. So after three days of "Ooo.... Robert Mondavi." / "Yeah, but they aren't very good.", day four finally wore us down. "Ooo.... Robert Mondavi." / "Should we just go there?"

The wine, as remembered, didn't really hold up next to many others we'd had during the trip. But the stop was still worthwhile. Their wide open courtyard is still a picturesque spot, and two of us picked up hats in the gift shop that seemed appropriately summery and suited to the trip.

Our next reservation of the day was at Rutherford Hill Winery, which we'd chosen after hearing about its caves. Getting out of the hot sun, touring a barrel-filled wine cave... it sounded like fun. It was perhaps a little less special than imagined. We'd been conjuring notions of naturally occurring caves converted into elaborate wine cellars. Instead, the "caves" had been methodically constructed in the hillside.

The facade was still impressive, and the inside as cool and comfortable as hoped for, but inside it felt almost more like a warehouse than a cave. Still, here we were, approaching our dozenth winery stop of the trip, and each place had had its own particular feeling about it. That in and of itself made Rutherford Hill feel like a fun addition to our "collection." (Randomly running into someone my husband knew, also on vacation from Denver, was an unexpected moment too.)

We were feeling done with wine for the day, but nevertheless stopped at one more winery in the late afternoon: Beringer Vineyards. This place was more about the sight-seeing and the history, in any case. Its photogenic Rhine House was something to see.

Beringer is also the oldest operating winery in Napa Valley (dating back to the 1870s), and has been offering tours and tastings since the repeal of Prohibition. Most of us opted out of any sampling, but we all enjoyed a short walk around the grounds.

Before heading back to our house, we stopped briefly at Mad Fritz Brewery. The switch away from wine was welcome, and their approach to beer an interesting one -- they used no added fruits or extracts to flavor their beers, but neither did they rigidly adhere to particular yeasts or malts for particular styles. The result was a range of beers all pure and refreshing, but a bit different the norm in a satisfying way.

The evening concluded with steaks we'd picked up at the Oxbow Public Market, and a few chapters of our various books before bed. We had one more full day of the trip, and plans that (for once) didn't center on wine.

Sparkling Memories

We kicked off the third day of our Napa Valley trip with something special -- sleeping in a little bit. (No early morning plane or sunrise balloon flight to wake up for.) In fact, we slowed our pace in general. We'd had less in mind for this day because before the trip, we'd considered a day where we'd rent bicycles and pedal around to places near our house. With temperatures forecast in the 90s for the rest of our vacation, however, we dispensed with that plan.

We headed over to a winery called Darioush, its tasting room inspired by Persian architecture. Though we got to walk the grounds, taking in their beautiful building and gardens, we actually didn't enjoy a full wine tasting. Some places in Napa Valley require a reservation in advance, and we found out this was one. (With hundreds of wineries to choose from, reservations aren't much of a constraint on filling a day with wine. Somewhere along the way, we heard anecdotally that reservation policies were a result of some law change years ago, and that wineries which existed before the change were grandfathered in, not having to require reservations. In any case, know when planning your Napa getaway that some places need reservations, while some don't.)

We decided to choose a random winery we'd driven by on the way to Darioush and see what it had to offer. We found ourselves at Monticello Vineyards. Though comparatively smaller than other places we'd visited so far on the trip, it could hardly be called "small"; their gimmick was a 1/3rd scale replica of Thomas Jefferson's Monticello there on their grounds, serving as their office building. (I would have loved to see inside that. Surely the rooms weren't 1/3rd scale; that would be like something out of Being John Malkovich.) We sat outside in the shade of a large tree and enjoyed a tasting flight. Our guide pouring the wines (Jason) took plenty of time to talk us through the different styles we were tasting. It was actually one of the more palate-expanding and educational tastings of the trip. We learned about the different appellations and American Viticultural Areas in Napa, what the wine bottle labels can specifically tell you about where the grapes come from, and more.

Lunch came next, with us heading into the city of Napa itself for beer and burgers at Downtown Joe's. We also walked up and down Main Street for a while, in search of souvenirs... but ultimately giving up to get back out of the heat.

We had a reservation for the mid-afternoon (made earlier that morning). We headed over to Domaine Carneros, a winery sporting a French-style chateau and plenty of French-style wine; their specialty is sparkling varieties as close to champagne as they can make it, short of actually labeling it as such. Sparkling wine isn't really a favorite among any of the four of us, but it was nice to change things up a bit at this stop -- Domaine Carneros was unlike any other place we went during the trip. We sat in a bright white sun room, enjoying both the view and the air conditioning, as we sampled five different kinds of bubbly.

That was enough moving around for the day. We spent the rest of the afternoon back at the house we'd rented, enjoying the pool there on site, and a dinner of pesto pasta we'd shopped for at the market the day before. Reading, relaxing, and recovery -- a nice, less-intense day in the middle of our time in Napa.