Red Mosquito

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:Sitting in the Denver airport waiting out an hour delay of my flight home. There’s a line of hundreds of people waiting to talk to customer service re canceled flights. Terminal is borderline third world conditions; these people have been here awhile.

DIA is hell on earth.

How was your trip?

It was good. Got to meet my wife’s colleagues who are all cool people.

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:Sitting in the Denver airport waiting out an hour delay of my flight home. There’s a line of hundreds of people waiting to talk to customer service re canceled flights. Terminal is borderline third world conditions; these people have been here awhile.

DIA is hell on earth.

How was your trip?

It was good. Got to meet my wife’s colleagues who are all cool people.

What did you do here!

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:Sitting in the Denver airport waiting out an hour delay of my flight home. There’s a line of hundreds of people waiting to talk to customer service re canceled flights. Terminal is borderline third world conditions; these people have been here awhile.

DIA is hell on earth.

How was your trip?

It was good. Got to meet my wife’s colleagues who are all cool people.

What did you do here!

Bummed around the village during the day. Otherwise work events in the late afternoon/evening. This thing could’ve been anywhere really.

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:Sitting in the Denver airport waiting out an hour delay of my flight home. There’s a line of hundreds of people waiting to talk to customer service re canceled flights. Terminal is borderline third world conditions; these people have been here awhile.

DIA is hell on earth.

How was your trip?

It was good. Got to meet my wife’s colleagues who are all cool people.

What did you do here!

Bummed around the village during the day. Otherwise work events in the late afternoon/evening. This thing could’ve been anywhere really.

Well, that is unfortunate. At least it was great weather!

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:

Strat wrote:

spike wrote:Sitting in the Denver airport waiting out an hour delay of my flight home. There’s a line of hundreds of people waiting to talk to customer service re canceled flights. Terminal is borderline third world conditions; these people have been here awhile.

DIA is hell on earth.

How was your trip?

It was good. Got to meet my wife’s colleagues who are all cool people.

What did you do here!

Bummed around the village during the day. Otherwise work events in the late afternoon/evening. This thing could’ve been anywhere really.

Well, that is unfortunate. At least it was great weather!

Lovely weather. Holy hell is the sun hot at that altitude though.

Spoiler: show

and god.

spike wrote:I am never leaving DIA

doug rr wrote:

spike wrote:I am never leaving DIA

go broncos

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

tragabigzanda wrote:

Strat wrote:Quick trip to Baltimore to meet up with the Mrs. for a few days before we come back home.

Meeting up with friends and going to the orioles and twins game.

Flying out of Vail and beer in hand. Boop

How are those thank you cards coming

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:lol. Did every one have writing in them? So thoughtful

Strat wrote:Quick trip to Baltimore to meet up with the Mrs. for a few days before we come back home.

Meeting up with friends and going to the orioles and twins game.

Flying out of Vail and beer in hand. Boop