getting knocked out in denver

Driving into down town going to drink is not an uncommon idea in Denver. Drinking in general, not uncommon. A mile high is not just about the thinning air. Thinning the blood is a pass time. So there we are appreciating some obscure mix of turn tableism, that reminds my brother the conductor, the ethnomusicologist of some bit or piece that he must explain and make me like so much more...cause honestly after he explains it, I will. It is hard not to appreciate when broken down and explained. We are on our way for a normal drinking escapade. What should be just a few minutes down to the pizza place, one of the oldest bars in Denver takes a touch longer. Of course we had to smoke on the way. It would be a crime not to. 2 hits each that is fine. It now takes forever, through the "Hey listen to this" and the replay over and over. Both of which I grew to love and now miss. We get there and it is my last hit, or anyones as I am now smoking ash. I take it as we park. Two random strangers on the street start to say something as they approach my side of the car... it would be fine if wasn't for the usual "my brother mouths off I get punched scenario". How that happens is whole story unto itself, and it too is not unusual, believe me. It sometimes happens when we are together. Here I am getting out of the car, shaking my head telling the average goer that no we have no more, other wise known as the truth. Next thing I know the door is resting on me. Only later in constant retelling of the story do I learn the look of my cool defensive moves. the raised arms, the utter shock, and worthless flailing of arms. Laughing for some reason and with some cold liquid is flowing unstoppable down my face, I stand up and start walking. Unaware, Do I go to the bar we had talked about? That is where we were headed and to have blacked out an come to half way is also not uncommon. I stagger to the door where the bartender comes busting through the door 100 mile an hour, he tosses me dirty bar rag. Then I hear it, a scream I have never heard and haven't since. Not even a guttural yell from Godzilla ever had or created. Off in the distance I look . The shadows he runs. I am still dazed and try to understand what is relevant. I step by step try and follow, but he is fast . Turning corners running down alley ways, I can only hear what passes as his voice, a scream, a yell. I follow this sound. What can only be recognised as a tribal family shaking tuned to only my ears. I run and follow. The next day (I can find the exact date if I need to) is the opening day of episode 3 star wars. As a nerd, I took off work and are ready to go stand in line. There I am and I don't have any clue what happened. I chase after this sound to find my brother screaming, deep and angry. He holds his drunk hands in the air like Kirk screaming for Khan. You would have to know he is 6 foot 3 about 220 black belt in Akido.....not someone you should mess with (hence the reason everyone probably attacks me first). This loud sound I have followed has now ended I am at his side. He turns to me with a look of disappointment. "these guys were track stars" he tells me. IT is all the better, he might have actually murdered someone that night. So with blood stains all over my clothes and a swollen eye, disappointment and rage still flowing through my brothers veins we wonder back into the bar we headed to the first place. and I heard what would be a story I would hear over and over again for the first time.

Impossible man

Never was there a greater day for my brother and I than July 4th. Christmas and birthdays were great, but blowing up the toys we received from those days meant more to us than anything. From other stories there was melting and lighting on fire, but the moment a video camera was introduced a whole new element came into play. And so the birth of Impossible man. Action figures (man I cant wait till I have a son) were the world. Some of the best being from fisher Price's Adventure People series. We had many but one parachuting, star spangled man stood out, which meant we had to destroy him. a piece of plastic molded into 4 parts should be the easiest to destroy , but not this man, not Impossible man. It started one year innocent enough we wanted to make a movie of a couple of news crews covering a " kenievelesk" adventure type, to his death. We had them all, the news crew, the stand by audience, the pool, the many different vehicles and the most important... the fire works. I mean if you are going to have a fake action figure display of death, gasoline and plastic just isn't going to give off the flair true holiday magic will. So it begins. We film the crew filming him introduce characters, back story, and cover the feat like Access Hollywood (now this is 82 at the most... if we only knew). He sets up some death defying act across the creek in the back yard. Oh my God, it doesn't go right and he and his mode of excitement are engulfed in flames and gun powder. something has gone terribly wrong. We rush to the scene where we are sure there will be the after math of something terrible. Only to find a complete and slightly smugged man in white, blue stars down his arms laying there waiting for his next act. Was there not enough explosion, not enough fire we thought? It must have been just a miss step by 2 inexperienced pyros. Next he dove a replica of the general lee into the water graves of the pool. full of smoke bombs of course.....result white not so white any more....nothing else. 25 bottle rockets would kill the average man... but not Impossible man. Time after time, set off through anything just short of pipes bombs and he made it slightly bubbled slightly chard but nothing could stop impossible man. His cars, his motorcycles, parachute, all devastated....he the sole survivor. Finally it took a rubber band, some duct tape, what must have been a 1/4 stick of dynamite and some great determination by 2 neanderthals to take him down. We could not stop until we stopped him. We de-evolved (which really wasn't that far back). In the end he was left a black bubble hill of nothing but we were satisfied. A day well spent!!!!!!!! every 4th from that day forward we tried to reproduce, tried to have day full of destruction. Only to find that no one stood up to the test. they all fell in our 1st or second tries......Which was or original task that first day, but now disappointed. Why couldn't they last? Why couldn't they be Impossible man.

Frankenstein again

I don't ever remember being a huge fan of Frankentstien. Monsters on a whole for me usually revolved around the giant Japanese variety, Robots, or obscure Space aliens......not the classics. As I have been tortured through years of my mother showing my history in pictures to various captive audiences, I noticed one thing. I seemed to be dressed as the Frankenstein monster at least 4 times. let me repeat that 4 times. As a kid obsessed with star wars I could have understood any # of characters, but not this guy. I could have even understood in a effort to save money as a single Mom I would just be re-dressed. Neither were the case. One time I was the classic boxed Frankenstein. Mask with thin elastic string, and odd plastic outfit ( a smell that is almost like a fresh new action figure being opened on Christmas morning....sorry geeked out). Another time a rubber full headed mask. this one I remember do to the fact that i felt as if I was suffocating inside a rubber tomb. And even another as just make up, which you would think came after the near death experience, but I don't think so. Now I am just giving in and claiming that I Love Frankenstein and be done with it, so this year here I am planning yet another year as the re-animated sympathetic undead.