This link comes courtesy of Mile High Gay Guy, who is such a relentless blogger I can’t keep up with him.
MSNBC has posted a story titled, “Gay Animals Out of the Closet?” I’ve heard this stuff before, but this article is very informative. Check it out.
Illegal Grounds
925 East 17th Avenue, Uptown
303-860-7166
open 7 days a week
Bus directions: take the 12 or 20 from Market Street StationThis is a post about getting to know people and places. When I first met Mickki Langston, co-founder and executive director of the Mile High Business Alliance, I thought she was the business-marketing type, by which I mean far more talkative and outgoing than I am. We first met at a gathering of the alliance next door to the Vine Street Pub in the Uptown neighborhood.
There were about 10 people in the room, which is my comfort level for a roomful of people I don’t know. Any bigger than that and I can’t find an entry point. But Mickki made us feel at home, and soon a woman from the Vintage Theater was trying to convince my husband Todd to do sound design for her plays, and I was talking to the designers of the Local Flavor Guides to Denver neighborhoods.
But it wasn’t until last Tuesday that I got a better idea of what Mickki and the Mile High Business Alliance were all about.
She held a meeting that morning at Illegal Grounds coffeehouse, at 17th and Emerson in Uptown. It’s a great place to get away from it all with your coffee. It’s a quiet ground-floor location in a house built in 1888, surrounded by other old houses and new condos, with a great patio, comfy chairs for the dawdlers, and straight-backed chairs for the hard workers.
I was in the dawdler category Tuesday as I sat down on the couch next to Mickki with my peppermint hot chocolate. She was talking to a couple who are starting up a business providing performance parts and accessories for Chinese-made scooters. Here’s a blog entry about their business, and here’s their website, though it seems to be under construction at the moment. We eventually made it to five people when a rep from Womenof.com showed up.
As most people do these days, we came around to the subject of the economy and the $700 billion bailout. And that’s when I discovered that Mickki is passionate about building sustainable communities, which she calls “eco-villages.”
I asked her about the difference between co-housing (which Todd and I have considered as an alternative to the single-family home) and eco-villages, and we were off and running. The meeting lasted twice as long as it was supposed to, but we had a fascinating conversation about the financial situation and how we need to nourish communities instead of playing with fake money, about how we need a new economic model that doesn’t depend on constant growth, but how do we get there?
We didn’t answer that question, of course. That will take decades.
But I did gain a little more insight into what kind of neighborhood Uptown is. It’s not just this hip, up-and-coming, soon-to-be-priced-out-of-sight Denver neighborhood. It’s a much quieter place than downtown Denver because it’s mostly residential, with these pockets of commercial activity here and there that make really good conversation possible.
The Mile High Business Alliance is a non-profit membership organization of local Denver Metro businesses and supporters committed to nourishing our community through enhancing local business-building a sustainable economy which provides a healthy environment, meaningful employment and strong communities.
Dietrich’s Chocolates and Espresso Place
1734 E. Evans Avenue, Denver
303-777-3358
Dietrich’s Chocolates and Espresso Place had a pleasant, festive, old world atmosphere when my husband and I arrived there for breakfast September 6 and settled into a corner by the window. Business was brisk. A woman and her young sons occupied the table next to us, and a group of four sat across the way.
The lady I’d met the weekend before served the food, while Erich Dietrich stayed busy in the kitchen, cooking. Since Dietrich’s is open every day except Monday, I wondered if he spends six days a week there, cooking breakfast and lunch and making chocolates.
Todd ordered the Bavarian breakfast and I ordered the egg breakfast, along with hot cocoa. I melted one of my last Wen Chocolates homemade marshmallows in the cocoa and felt deliriously happy. Todd said the breakfasts reminded him of the breakfasts he had in Germany the summer he and his best friend spent six weeks in Europe. Ah, the memories of youth—when we could eat all this stuff and not get fat.
Our two breakfasts were heavy on the meat and cheese and light on the fruit, but mine looked so pretty on the plate, I had to take a picture of it. I tried to make my poached eggs on a croissant into an Eggs Benedict without sauce. It was a little awkward, and I felt that I was failing Restaurant Etiquette 101. I guess I should have slid the cheese under the eggs. Somebody tell me how to eat this food, please! I don’t have any memories of Bavarian breakfasts to fall back on!
The first time I’d visited Dietrich’s, on Labor Day weekend, they were closing early since business was so slow—everyone was up in the mountains, one of the women at the store said. Personally, I’d rather stay in town and check out the candy stores. I’d grabbed a box of 25 chocolates and proceeded to devour them within two days (with some help from Todd), but this Saturday I had some time to linger, observe the vibe, and try the chocolates I’d missed before.
The store sells virtually every kind of chocolate candy imaginable. If you’re craving some kind of chocolate-covered thang, it’s the place to go. When Erich comes out of the back, get him to tell you how he double-dips the truffles to keep them from drying out in Colorado’s arid climate. He’s happy to talk about all the new flavor combinations he’s created lately.
One of my favorites was the chocolate-covered pistachio marzipan. Another, the mint truffle, was gently minty. I also liked the ginger and port truffles. Subtle flavors are definitely a hallmark of Dietrich’s creations. But then, as if to contradict me, there’s the lemon cream, and the Irish cream is rolled in bright green sprinkles.
And, of course, since it was one of the first stores I visited, I didn’t think to take pictures of the individual truffles. My apologies. They looked good, OK? Go see for yourself already.
Dietrich’s Chocolates and Espresso is one of the oldest chocolate stores in Denver, if not the oldest. Erich Dietrich trained as a chocolatier in Germany, opened his first shop in the United States in 1975, and brought it to Denver in 1978. Perhaps the Russell Stover’s stores in Denver are older, since Russell Stover’s was founded here in 1923.
Indulgences, Etc.
229 East Colfax, Denver
303-771-0758
Website under constructionNOTE: Indulgences, Etc., has closed. The only Belvedere Belgian Chocolate shop now open in the Denver area is the one in Boulder. The factory is located in Castle Rock.
I’ve been sampling chocolate in Denver for two weeks now, and part of me is disappointed that I still weigh the same as when I started.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started this blog. I’d done blogs before, and it was like talking to myself. This time I wanted to talk to other people.
I knew that the Democratic National Convention would offer up all kinds of craziness and probably come with a built-in audience, but then what? What else about Denver could I use to show people its heart and mine without sounding too self-absorbed or too much like a travel guide?
I picked chocolate because it’s my passion. I assumed it would be easy: I’d eat lots of candy at unique shops, maybe even experience the unusual sensation of having enough chocolate. But I didn’t anticipate the challenges to my taste buds. The difficulty of deciding which truffle was best.
I’ve discovered that every store hides a story.
Take Indulgences, Etc., formerly of Cherry Creek, now located on Colfax near the Capitol, and selling Belvedere chocolates. After talking to Laurie and Ivan (the proprietors) and Marie, whom I met on my first visit to the store, I found out that maintaining a chocolate store in Cherry Creek was not easy. I would have expected a small specialty store featuring Colorado chocolate to flourish there, but irregular foot traffic and high rent motivated the owners to move downtown. It’s a common story in Denver and around Colorado, for homeowners as well as businesspeople.
Indulgences opened on Labor Day weekend, 2008, during the Taste of Colorado just down the block at Civic Center Park. Laurie said the foot traffic in the new location was much better. She was full of plans for the future, involving wine and chocolate pairings and martini and chocolate pairings and art exhibits and donations to charity, but said that first she would just like to get established.
Did I just say Indulgences was a small store? Perhaps it was in Cherry Creek, but the Colfax location is huge compared to the other stores I’ve written about so far. It feels open and spacious. At one end sits a bar, awaiting their liquor license, and they also serve Colorado Novo coffee and tea and baked goods.
I’ve been to the Belvedere store in Boulder several times and had thought each location was the same (like the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory stores), but apparently not. Last year Laurie and Ivan bought American Country Candies, operating in Fort Collins since 1930, and moved the equipment to Denver. When they get the back of their new location remodeled into a kitchen next month, their store will be one of the few places in the country making old-fashioned ribbon candy.
I had a revelation on this visit: maybe I should actually show my readers the chocolates, instead of just stuffing them in my mouth and writing about them later, so here’s a picture. 
Laurie gave me 5 samples, and I bought 6 truffles. My favorites were the seashell (a typical Belgian chocolate with crunchy hazelnut filling); the sugar-free chocolate with coffee (sweetened with Maltotol, a natural corn extract, according to the Internet; the square one with the coffee bean); the green tea, which had a really long, dark finish (upper left on the cookie); and the caramel with rock salt (the only truffle on the plate). I had to buy another caramel and rock salt for my husband.
When I left at 6, after hanging out for an hour, I stopped to take a picture of the window. Downtown Denver has lots of cool details like that. 
People were finding their way home from work, and a bus drove by spewing diesel fumes, sporting this ad, “Take Care of Our Summer Air (ozoneaware.org).” And when I got on my bus, I sat next to to a man reading Ivan’s War.
Denver also has its quirks.
Wen Chocolates
1541 Platte Street, Denver
303-477-5765 (store)
www.wenchocolates.com
Bus directions: the 10, 44, 28, and 32 go by on 15th
Note: Wen Chocolates closed its Platte retail location on February 14, 2010. Please see the website for more information.
I’ve had extraordinary chocolate in my time—Vosges from Chicago, Belvedere from this area, Chuao in San Diego, Neuhaus—but I think Wen Chocolates has them all beat. Of the three, I think Wen is most like Vosges in the composition of the truffles, though Vosges, of course, is a much larger company creating large batches of truffles to be shipped around the world. But some of chef William Poole’s creations are more creative and exotic than any I’ve had from Vosges.
My favorite was the “Violette,” described as “an infusion of black violet tea, brushed with violet pearl dust, and topped with candied violets.” I could clearly taste the tea (which I can’t say about all so-called tea truffles), but the flavor was delicate. I was sad that Wen was out of “Prazen Sladkor,” covered in edible gold dust. Maybe next time.
(I remember reading about some restaurant in LA that Tom Cruise supposedly frequented—and there was some kind of “Gold Dust” dish on that menu. At the time, I got real busy scorning all those rich people who eat gold. What if it had cyanide in it from the leaching process? I sneered. And now … well … I guess chocolate makes it all different.)
Wen Chocolates has been in its location, near 15th and Platte, for a year now. The neighborhood isn’t new, of course, but it seems much more shiny and spiffy than it did years ago, when I used to stop in for coffee at Paris on the Platte, only a couple of doors down. There’s a Vitamin Cottage across the street, a spice store next door, and REI a block or two away. New condos rise next to the grocery store, and the Platte River flows shallowly on the other side of them. The neighborhood gives off a self-contained air; I think I could live there for years without leaving the block.
The only bad thing is that Wen Chocolates is a little hard to see from across the street. I was looking at the numbers, knowing it must be over there somewhere, but the signage is cryptic. And when I walked into that tiny store, I was immediately struck by how big it seems because the back window opens onto the spice store.
The whole place gives off a fairy tale vibe. Renovated by Poole, Wen Chocolates has brick walls and a beautiful gray ceiling. There’s room for a few people to stand and look over the displays and, on the right wall, a display of cards with pictures of the truffles. As in a sushi restaurant, you order your truffles on a slip of paper and hand the order to the person behind the counter, who wraps them up for you.
The website states that Wen offers “small-batch artisan chocolate with no added sweeteners, preservatives, or stabilizers” and that “no machinery is involved.” (I did notice some dyes in the ingredients list in one of the beggar’s coins, however.) While I was perusing the other candies (and asking about the pate de fruit, which my husband loves), the clerk assured me that Poole makes everything by hand (in a kitchen in Wheat Ridge).
There were cube-shaped cakes in one display case, which can be ordered with 3 days’ notice, and chocolate art pieces, called “tiles,” with raised designs on them. Poole also makes his own marshmallows, which melted obligingly into a cup of hot chocolate supplied by Paris on the Platte. (I tried eating one to “cleanse my palate” between chocolates, but I don’t recommend it, unless you really love the taste of marshmallows by themselves. I’m such a dork.)
Wen Chocolates was recommended by two other chocolatiers in the area, Patty Moore at Le Chocolatier and Roberta of Roberta’s Chocolates (see last week’s posts). Their recommendation was right on—and I applaud them for not being afraid of the competition!
***
Wen’s has a new look these days. The shelves with pictures of truffles are gone (“We got through the first year with those pictures,” the clerk told me the last time I visited), replaced by a nice glass case. 
I don’t visit Wen often enough to get to know the staff, especially now that I’m on a diet. But Saturday, May 26, was my splurge day, so I went to the tiny store (maybe 100 square feet) and started ordering truffles. As always, I got some freebies, one of which pleasantly surprised me: the Rozmary truffle, my favorite of the day. It looks plain but has a distinct, delicate flavor of rosemary. Prazen Sladkor is simply the best caramel I’ve ever had, and the pear hazelnut is awfully pretty (see picture above). I couldn’t taste the pear at all; next time I order it, I’ll eat it first.
The full review of the Downtown Denver Arts Festival, from which this update is excerpted, can be found here.
Roberta’s Chocolates, Candies, and Nuts
(the website is pretty slow)
4840 W 29th Avenue
(take Speer to 29th and then drive 18 blocks or so)
303-824-2069 (call for hours)
Chocolatier: “A maker or seller of chocolate candy” (from Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary)
Roberta’s Chocolates, Candies, and Nuts is a full-service chocolate shop, offering a selection like that of Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. I have to admit my prejudice: all I really care about are the truffles. But if you’ve got a hankering for chocolate-covered nuts or raisins or gummy bears in milk chocolate (?!) or aspen bark or nonpareils, then Roberta’s Chocolates is the place to go. Or if you need customized chocolate favors for your party or business gathering, they have 10,000 molds (some unique to the store).
A case full of colored truffles greeted me after I walked in the door and scooted sideways to avoid setting off the doorbell again. Roberta’s offers twenty-four varieties, plus holiday flavors. My six-pack of truffles featured blueberry, pineapple, key lime, coconut, lemon, and pomegranate—definitely a more unusual selection than you’d find at RMCF, but the truffles I tried had about the same level of sweetness.
Like most of the chocolates shops I’ve visited in Denver (five so far), Roberta’s doesn’t offer a lot of space to sit down and enjoy your treat. The location features two rooms, one with chocolates and one with gifts, plus the kitchen where the chocolates are made. Each of the two rooms has a table and chairs, but there’s not much room between the tables and the displays. There are two benches outside, where I sat when I visited and enjoyed two of the truffles. It was a pleasant spot to rest on a Saturday afternoon in the summer.
While I was outside, Roberta came out with another customer. She saw me sitting there, invited me in, and told me to let her know if I had any questions. Although the shop was busy and, when I went back in, she was doing work on the computer, she took the time to answer my questions.
I started with the pomegranate in dark chocolate and decided the ganache was to die for. It had the loveliest texture, and the mold was delicate (they’re all shaped like cones rounded at the top). The blueberry and pineapple truffles didn’t do too much for me, but I liked the lemon. (My husband got to try the lime after I got home. He approved, which I didn’t expect, because he usually prefers less sweet chocolates.) My favorite by far, however, was the coconut, which smelled wonderful and had just a little bit of coconut crunch, followed by creamy white chocolate.
The location is off the main drag of Highlands, in a mostly residential neighborhood, but 32nd Street is only a few blocks north. Roberta said she wished she had foot traffic, but she’s been in business since 1995, and her milk chocolate mint just won best truffle at the 2008 Colorado Chocolate Fest (on Mother’s Day at the Merchandise Mart).
Le Chocolatier
3718 West 32nd Avenue (between Meade and Newton in Highlands)
303-455-3431
Closed Monday; see website for other hours
Will deliver in the metro Denver area
Bus directions: the 32 stops right near the store
Chocolatier: “A maker or seller of chocolate candy” (from Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary)
Le Chocolatier was the third chocolate shop I visited in one afternoon, and I spent a lot of time there talking with Patty Moore, who’s been running it almost four years. Unlike other chocolatiers in Denver, she doesn’t make any of her chocolates but rather sells Neuhaus chocolates, Telluride Truffles, ralph’s sweets, and other products. Neuhaus has about 200 chocolates, so she rotates through their selection because she doesn’t have room to offer all of them at once.
It’s true Le Chocolatier doesn’t have a lot of space, but there is room for a few people to mill about from the Neuhaus case to the other case containing the small, brightly colored Telluride Truffles. Patty says it’s trendy now to put color in the mold (the outside of the candy).
Get ten people in this store, however, and it would be enough to melt the candy.
We began talking about the longevity of chocolate shops in Denver, and she said she did a lot of research before starting hers up. Some of the knowledge she passed on to me: The word praline is pronounced “prah-lee-nay” and refers to a nut paste (usually with hazelnut, but it may not contain nuts at all) that goes into the mold. A ganache (ga-nash), in contrast, is a chocolate cream.
She said that most of the other chocolatiers in Denver who make their own chocolates (the candies, not the ingredient) order hard chocolate or chocolate nibs from Callebaut (which she pronounced “kall-a-bow”). The only chocolatier in Denver who makes his own chocolate (the ingredient), according to Patty, is Steve DeVries. Some of that goes into chocolate bars sold at several stores in the Denver metro area.
I bought only five chocolates from Le Chocolatier (though I’ve sampled them on other occasions): art nouveau (ganache with hazelnut), a butter truffle (chocolate butter cream dusted with cocoa powder), a lime praline (no hazelnuts), a palet dark (what looked like a communion wafer made from dark chocolate), and a specialty item for the Democratic National Convention called Donkey Chocolates (handmade by B. T. McElrath in Minneapolis, where the Republican National Convention is now happening).
According to the Neuhaus website, more than one-third of its pralines are still made individually, by hand. Those I bought were certainly elegant, and they were all good. I think the lime was my favorite—its flavor is a bit reminiscent of Dagoba lime chocolate bars.
But what I enjoyed most was getting the skinny on the Denver chocolate scene from Patty.
I encountered two kinds of youth culture in Denver the past two days: the anarchists and those who are participating in the process in one form or another. The first group is not nearly as clean and polished as the second, but their rough edges appeal to me. Maybe because no matter how clean and polished I tried to be growing up, I never felt that I succeeded. Plus, I’ve been double-stinky the last two days, so I fit right in here.
I’m at the Civic Center Park amphitheater, where the red, white, and blue beach ball is still floating around, propelled by the slammers dancing to a punk band brought here by ReCreate68. The crowd is mostly young; they look scruffier than the people on the mall wearing press or DNC credentials. (None of them seem to be here.) An old man goes by wearing a “Gulag” shirt. The woman sitting in front of me holds a sign that reads, “Was your American flag made in China?” In the audience, there’s a woman wrapped in a flag marked “Vote.”
So far I’ve listed to Rebel Diaz (hiphop with a two guys and female rapper with a really good voice) and Whiskey Blanket (three guys doing hiphop with classical influences–note the violin), pictured here with friends. 
I don’t know the name of the band playing now. One of the band members starts leading a chant, “Fuck the police,” and then mentions knocking down someone “half your weight.” I think they were talking about this Code Pink protester.
There are about ten police officers standing to the band’s left, my right. They’ve been there every time I’ve gone through the park the last two days.
The crowd just in front of the stage chanted along, and a few people from the audience echoed them. It made me feel bad. I don’t like all the police clogging up the streets in Denver (I just saw a big SUV go by with 11 police riding shotgun), but I don’t like hearing that either. I know how I’d feel if someone said, “Fuck the women!” But when I see a line of police blocking off a street, I don’t feel sorry at all. I wish they would leave.
I asked a man sitting in front of me if he knew the name of the band, and he said, “Not a clue. There might be a generational gap between…” and he gestured from us to them. “Hey,” I wanted to say, “punk started in the 70s. You and I are the right generation.” But then, I didn’t know what punk was in high school. I didn’t figure it out until I went to England my junior year of college and first saw people with Mohawks.
He continued, “My generation may have opened Pandora’s box, but here’s where it went.” He got up and left.
Lady Speech, a local performance poet, once again filled up the space between bands. She mentioned that because she’s black, she knows what it’s like to be oppressed by cops, but that they’re also human. “If we fight against each other, there won’t be anybody left!” There were a few shouts of agreement from the audience.
Most of the audience left after From the Depths wrapped up their set (I finally found someone who knew their name). Only a few people stood in front of the stage where Black Speech Brigade, another punk band, performed. It’s too bad, because the Brigade is a better band, by my standards: their songs have more of a beat, and I can understand probably half the lyrics. I looked around at the small crowd, at the photographers kneeling on the steps in front of the band, at the colonnade. The police had left. I needed to catch a bus. I left too, allowing myself the pleasure of re-visiting this antiwar exhibit of photographs of Iranians in Civic Center Park. I highly recommend checking it out. 
Monday night, about 100 protesters were arrested in Civic Center Park as they attempted to reach the 16th Street Mall. Police suspected they wanted to reach some downtown Denver hotels and disrupt convention activity there. Sue Cobb, a spokesperson for the Denver mayor’s office, said, “It is hard to avoid arresting people who are bound and determined to get arrested.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if the police presence wasn’t so provocative.
I have no plans to do anything that might get me arrested during the week of the Democratic National Convention, but I sure did finding myself resenting the police on Monday as I made my way around Denver. There were dozens of police at ReCreate68′s demonstration at 19th and Stout (the Federal Building).
Every time I turned around, another group of bicycle cops went by two-by-two. When I was waiting for Code Pink to finish preparations for their aerial photograph of protestors forming the words, “Make Out, Not War,” I noticed one cop filming the demonstrators. 
Come on! What evil do they think a bunch of women in pink are going to do?
I don’t know about you, but seeing cops everywhere makes me want to push the limits. When I was walking up the 16th Street Mall about 7 pm, just about when the arrests in Civic Center Park were happening, I was following a double line of cops in full riot gear. Another double line proceeded up the other side of the street. Some people were heckling them. One man came by and asked to take their picture, saying, “I think you guys look awesome.” He sounded as if he meant it. And the woman strolling nearby with her boyfriend cozied up to some young officers for a picture.
One cop in the group admitted he didn’t know which group was protesting. He said there are ten protests going on at any given time, which I found interesting, but it made me wonder how they define “protest.” Does a bunch of women in pink spelling out letters on a park lawn qualify as a “protest”? 
Apparently, according to Denver police, it does. Seems pretty harmless to me.
I say, we should let the protesters go as far as they can without hurting anyone. Let them disrupt a party like this one. Is it really going to end the world if some telecom fat cat or the legislators she’s trying to buy can’t get into the party for a few minutes?
As I sit in Common Grounds coffeehouse at 17th and Wazee, the Democratic National Convention hardly intrudes. One patron in a bright white shirt at the counter said the police were doing a good job of containing the demonstrators who wanted to make trouble, but the dyed-blond guy behind the counter was noncommittal.
It’s about 1 pm on what will be a twelve-hour day in Denver, and I’m glad to be sitting down in air conditioning. I’m also glad to be using Common Grounds’s free Wifi, which doesn’t require me to pledge my life. I tried to figure out Downtown Denver Wifi, but I couldn’t understand why I had to pay when the front page said it was free.
That was this day for you: I kept going to the wrong places and finding situations that surprised me or delighted me or scared me just a little. I got off the bus and began wandering around downtown until I ran into a most impressive fence and cops checking credentials. The closest I could get to the Pepsi Center was Speer and Auraria. An hour later, I found the beginning of the demonstration route by walking past it, asking someone where it was, and then actually reading the street sign. And when the demonstration started an hour late, the only “float” in the parade was this one. 
Kind of prophetic, isn’t it?
All I can say is, thank God for ReCreate 68. After they were done with the speeches by the American Indian Movement and the pleas for Leonard Peltier, they came yelling and chanting out of Civic Center Park, doing their level best to sound scary with their chants and look scary in their Guantanamo orange jumpsuits and black hoods, and went straight down the 16th Street Mall. I did wonder if they had gotten permission for that: the police presence was oppressive. I got ordered onto the sidewalk by a mounted cop, who was nice enough to thank me afterward, but even the horses were dressed in riot gear, with clear plastic blinders and things around their ankles for I don’t know what.
When we got to the Federal Building, people were shouting, “This is what a police state looks like.” And I looked around, at the hundred or so police, with ten mounted, lining Stout and 19th, compared to a few hundred demonstrators, and thought, Yeah, you’re right. The demonstrators had turned inward by then, with the “torture victims” kneeling, their hoods on, while people took pictures of them. Across the plaza another subgroup of demonstrators was talking about the Cuban Five, whom I had never heard of.
As I was leaving, I asked a young woman stripping off her orange jumpsuit where they were going next. She said, “I’m not sure. Just see what happens.”
I wanted to stick around and “see what happens,” but I was hungry. And so here I am. All morning I’ve been walking in circles in Denver during the Democratic National Convention, and it looks likely to continue for four days. But at least I got to see him.
And he-she!
