An eventful day in Denver

So the conference was finally over and I had the afternoon to myself to “discover” downtown Denver. I did a quick search on Frommer’s.com and made reservations for “English tea” at the Brown Palace Hotel. I found it odd that tea is served from noon to 4pm. I thought it was supposed to be an afternoon thing, like in Chile, but then again I’m not English so what do I know.

I went by myself to the French-inspired hotel with a stained glass ceiling about 7 floors up. Tea is served in the lobby below that ceiling, with a piano player nearby. There are tables surrounded by sofas for larger parties, as though you had to go to a hotel to have tea the way you might in your living room. Maybe the maid was out that day…

It was so easy to imagine myself having this tea with other people. It would have been more fun, but I think that would also depend on who went. Nothing ruins a fancy tea afternoon more than going with someone who doesn’t enjoy it. First I pictured, who else, but my mother. If she had been there I’m sure she would have showed a restrained pleasure, as though accustomed –even bored- by these plebeian customs, but still enjoying it because … what’s the alternative, dear?

The tea was Twinnings, a special blend made especially for the hotel that reminded me, oddly, of the smell at the stables where my brother and I took horseback riding lessons in late 80s. It was awesome.

Then I imagined my grandmother, who, unlike my mother, would have expressed amazement and wonder and EVERYTHING, and probably left having made friends with the pianist, the waitresses and the people at the next table.

The only other person I could think of who might have as much fun with the whole thing was Bubi, based on her reaction to Moby’s tea house, Teany, in the Lower East Side.

After my $27 pastries and tea, I headed to the State Capitol. When I first saw on Frommer’s that this was one of the top attractions I thought that was a sign of how boring Denver must be. Come on, a political building, who cares? But then I read that the 18th step on the west side was exactly 1 mile high (ie “the mile high city”).

It was a beautiful spring day yesterday. Similar to Fall, with a sort of wetness coming from the ground and warm sun mixed with cool air. A guy was skateboarding past me on a steep street and I could feel my heart beat faster than usual in this pre-Rockies town. When I got to the Capitol there were… bikers. Bikers holding US flags with yellow ribbons and wearing jackets that said things like “Riding for Christian Motorcyclists” and “US Marine Extermination Corps”. One of them had a Canadian flag patch next to a US one, and an RCMP patch underneath. Bizarre. Anyway, at first I didn’t know what was going on and I was just annoyed that I couldn’t go up to the 18th step because there was a podium set up there and tv cameras, etc. So I sat on a railing to listen.

The ceremony was to say they were going to try to pass a bill forbidding protesters to approach funerals. What I understood was that anti-war protesters were bothering the grieving members of dead soldiers’ funeral parties. And somehow this was related to the bikers, who were referred to publicly as “the guard”. Mostly I found the whole thing pretty quaint, a great sightseeing experience for a foreign tourist in America.

When that part was over I start taking notes of what I was seeing, for this blog. A guy carrying a sign that read “God hates is oxymoronic” came up to talk to me. Maybe he thought I was a reporter. I told him I didn’t understand his sign, and after a while (first he tried to tell me what “oxymoron” means…) he explained that it was “God hates” (the phrase) is oxymoronic. In other words, he doesn’t think God can hate. Ok, whatever. He told me that the “guard” went to high profile military funerals and put up tarps and revved their bikes so that the grievers couldn’t hear or see the protesters. I smiled and nodded at whatever he said and then left him to go see a new protest that was happening below us on the sidewalk. Here were the people the new bill was supposed to protect citizens against. Now THIS was hilarious.

A dozen people carrying hippie-coloured (you know, rainbowish) signs were approaching. Some of the people had US flags tied to their legs, like bandannas. Very big bandannas. And this is what the signs said:

“Thank God for 9/11”
“God hates the USA”
“God is the enemy”

And then it got more bizarre:

“God hates fag enablers”

I could barely keep myself from cracking up. Surely this was all a big joke. Who were these people? Police were trying to keep us “regular” folks from going down to where the protesters were so there were a lot of on-lookers like me in the patch between the State Capitol and the sidewalk (it’s a little hillside). I overheard one explaining to another that the freaky hippies were actually a sort of cult from Kansas that believes that… get this.. God is punishing the United States BECAUSE the country tolerates homosexuals. HAHAHA.

Possibly my favourite part was when someone in a passing car yelled in the same sing-song rhythm as the protesters “God hates fundamentalist wackoooos”.

As I was leaving a counter protest arrived, with placards reading “God forgives, we don’t. 9/11”. That reminded me of when Pinochet was asked if he would ask the Chilean people for forgiveness and he said “only God forgives”. Honestly, I’m quite confused as to how so many people seem to KNOW what God does, is, approves, rejects, etc. But whatever, feel free.

I didn’t stick around for things to get uglier. I asked some ladies with name tags if they worked in the Capitol and they showed me the 18th step. The mile-high point has actually changed over the years due to land shifting, so they have different markers with years on them. They brought me inside the building and I had my little self-tour. Unfortunately, since –guess when- 9/11, you can’t go up to the observation deck on the third floor anymore. I wanted to go see “as far as the Wyoming border” like it said in Frommer’s. You can’t get any views anymore in this country. All roofs are off limits.

The interior is very lavish. Apparently they used all of the world’s known supply of pink onyx on the walls when they built the place. It must be weird to be a public servant in a place that’s more elegant than any 5-star hotel.

After that I went to the nearby Art Museum. The building was the best part of it. It was designed by Gio Ponti, an Italian architect who liked diamond shapes very much. There are thin rectangular windows placed like the broken pieces of a cross all over the 10-storey building. When you’re inside looking out it’s really cool because they frame the city in odd ways: cutting a piece of the Capitol’s dome, leaving only the corner of a skyscraper and a bunch of blue sky… The museum’s collection wasn’t so hot. I looked mostly at the Native American stuff, since you know their “Renaissance collection” isn’t going to be better than what I’ve seen at the National Gallery, or the Chicago Art Institute, or the Met. For sure. They did have one Boticelli. The man with the red hat.

My eventful day ended with a shortcut across the Civic Center Park and its assortment of homeless and loitering population (apparently the weather in Denver makes it a sort of capital to the homeless). When I passed by a woman sitting by herself on a park bench, with her sleeping bad by her side, I wanted to tell her “everyone gets to enjoy the weather”.