AtomJohnson Blog

The Longmont Bingo Alley is a non-smoking facility. This explains the hordes of folks gathered at the picnic tables outside enjoying their last puffs of smoke before heading inside to test their luck (some say skill) at Bingo. As Ben, Amy, Jess and I entered the bingo hall, we were first struck by the slightly off key version of Grand Funk Railroad’s, “We’re an American Band”. As we glanced to the front of the hall, this lyrics of the song matched up with the lip movements of a curly-haired blond gentleman, swaying side-to-side as the lyrics flashed across the screen of a big screen TV. He is trying to rouse the crowd. 15 minutes later, this big screen TV would be broadcasting the numbers for the game as they’re noisily sucked to the top of the giant clear box of dancing ping pong balls with numbers that if called in the right order could make anyone in the hall just a little bit richer.

We all stand out like sore thumbs. We are obviously not regulars. This is the second time that Jess and I have been to this bingo hall. The first was a little over two months ago on our first date. Once again, we are the only players in the hall with only one bingo dauber. Most everyone else has an entire bag of daubers. A woman and young daughter have a Safeway grocery bag stuffed with the colorful markers while others have intricately woven bags made specifically for this sport. At intermission I ask one lady why so many daubers. My assumption is that it would be tragic to run out of ink in the middle of a game. I am surprised to find out that its simply to have different colors for different games. My single red dauber now seems even more inadequate for the occasion.

The first time we played bingo here, we were a bit confounded by the whole procedure. Our first stop is the ticket window to purchase our bingo cards. Thinking that one card would be a bit boring, we increase our odds of winning by purchasing three cards each. I look confused as the woman hands me a giant stack of cards. Each contains six bingo games and is more like a pad of posters, several cards deep. Suddenly I realize that we have our work cut out for us. Each new number called gives you barely enough time to search each of your 18 cards for the number. I look around and realize that one woman is playing twice as many cards as we are and is also entering each number into a computerized bingo setup. There isn’t the slightest sign of panic on her face. I am envious of her bingo skills. Meanwhile, I look like a gerbil who has accidentally fallen nose first into a vat of cocaine. I am nervous, frantic, and can barely hide my panic as I search for the last number while try to remember the one that was just called, all the while knowing that another will be called in mere seconds. This bingo game is starting to feel like a job.

Two hours later the last “Bingo!” is yelled from the crowd. I didn’t see who had won, but I can only imagine that it was one of the elderly women on oxygen with macrame dauber totes. Whoever it is must look elated as they have just won $500. The rest of the hall looks a bit deflated as they dump their worthless cards and pack up their equipment. Ben, Amy, Jess and I all head out into the cold as I wonder if Wednesday night has suddenly become MY “Bingo Night”.

We woke up this morning well before the desert roosters. I found a free (and not terrible) cup of coffee in the Motel 6 lobby, which fueled me well enough for the drive to the trailhead. Jess had picked out a 5 mile hike called Devil’s Garden. It sounded like the perfect Sunday morning hike. We arrived at the trail well before the sun and began trekking through an incredibly cold desert setting of slick red rock and freezing cold wind. It all seemed worth it as we arrived at Landscape Arch just as the first light of sun was hitting it. Shortly thereafter, the entire landscape began to glow red. Despite the cold, I think we both agreed that it was one of the most incredible hikes either of us had done.

The drive back to Boulder was not nearly as bad as we had thought it would be. Who knew it was only 7 hours to Moab? I think the dogs and humans were all happy to be out of the car, but thankful that we had the opportunity to take such an amazing roadtrip during the holiday break.

Upon arriving home, we immediately jumped into pajamas, made some popcorn and hot tea, and settled onto the couch to veg out in front of Planet Earth.

See the rest of the pics here…

Saturday morning was welcomed with a slight hangover from too much white wine and late-night Rummikub. After some breakfast, coffee, and rehydration, we continued the roadtrip West to Moab, Utah. The giant evergreen-covered mountains of Colorado gave way to the giant red rock canyon walls of eastern Utah. We pulled into Moab around 3pm with plenty of light left for a visit to Arches National Park. Jess directed us to all of the locations described as “best viewed in afternoon light”. The plan was to get up before sunrise on Sunday to view all places “best viewed in early morning light”. After 2 hours and a million photos, we headed back to Moab to find a place to stay for the night. At $47, which included “color television”, the Motel 6 would be home for the night. I loved that it was necessary to print a sign that asked guests, “Please don’t use our bathroom towels to clean the mud off of your bikes or Jeeps”. The sign said nothing about your dogs or Hyundai Elantras. So, we walked the dogs, freshed up makeup and deodorant and drove into Moab for a night of Margaritas and Mexican food. Jess taught me as much Spanish as my pee-sized brain could soak up over two very strong and incredibly tasty margaritas. With a 5:30am wakeup call requested for the following morning, we thought it best to only have a few cups of wine back at the hotel before settling in for a few hours of shuteye.

Long weekends are made for road-tripping. With no plan of where to go, Jess and I packed up the car with clothes, dogs, maps, cameras, ipods and plenty of cash for Corn Nuts and Junior Mints. After a bagel, coffee and a fortunate toss of the coin, we decided to head West for some hot-springing. After a gorgeous drive through Summit County, we booked a room at the exclusive Silver Spruce Hotel in downtown Glenwood Springs. Having forgotten her swimsuit, Jess was forced to lay down $26 for a navy blue swimsuit from the junior’s sale rack of The Sports Authority that she described as “not cute”. Had we not been forced to detour to The Sports Authority, we might not have happened upon the Chili’s where we were able to feast like kings on Jess’s $50 Chili’s Gift Card. Two margaritas and some baby back ribs later, it was time to hit the hot springs pool. The very frigid walk across the bridge to the pool made it hard to believe we were going swimming outside. I could only think how bummed I would be if the hot water ran out while we were in there. I soon forgot that worry and all others as we found ourselves swimming in the giant hot springs under a full moon and a free fireworks extravaganza to celebrate the kickoff of their holiday season. It was another “pinch me” moment delivered by the gorgeous state of Colorado.

Once again, I have eaten way, way, way too much in the last week of November. Normally I would be in Atlanta with my family and only eating only one meal, but this year I was away from Atlanta for the first time in my life on Thanksgiving day. I feel so thankful though to have such great family-like friends here in Boulder to spend one of my favorite holidays with.

The gluttonous festivities began at 12:30pm at Ronnie’s house. He was nice enough to put together a Thanksgiving dinner for all of the Boulder refugees that couldn’t make it home for the big day. I must say that he went all out. His house looked like a photo shoot for Martha Stewart’s Thanksgiving Special. If I had to pick my favorite detail, I would choose the napkin rings. Bill gets my vote “best food brought to the dinner” with his homemade cranberry-citrus sauce and homemade sourdough bread. Ann gets my vote for “best homemade apple pie”. Monique of course wins the award for “person most likely to show up to the party with a piece already eaten from her pumpkin pie”. Ronnie wins “best turkey”, “most moist poultry”, and “greatest host on the planet”.

After the last glass of wine at Ronnie’s, I headed over to my neighbors Nick and Karin’s house for a post Thanksgiving dinner dinner. Having allowed a half hour to pass since my first Thanksgiving dinner, it was about time to eat again. Once again, it was such a blessing to be sharing my favorite holiday with friends and neighbors truly feel like family. I don’t think I’ve felt so at home anywhere else that I’ve lived. Thank you to everyone who has entered my life in the past year and made Boulder, Colorado feel like home.

Last night Jess and I opened up some wine, broke out the Christmas tunes, and plastered my home with Christmas joy. It felt so good to put up my first Christmas tree in Colorado. Last year I was a bit too weirded-out about having left all of my friends and family on the East Coast to get excited about decorating for Christmas. This year more than makes up for that brief episode of quasi-depression. We even went so far as to string popcorn and cranberries to wrap around the tree. Come morning, Mother Nature had left us with about 6 fresh inches of snow….and Sadie, Ruby and Phyllis had left of with about 6 popcorn kernels on our previously popcorn-laden tree.

After a phone conversation with my brother yesterday, I’ve got XBox 360 on the brain. He was telling me how amazing the new FIFA 08 soccer game is on the Xbox. After going online and watching some videos of it, I am in a continuous mental fight with myself not to go buy a system.

As amazing as the experience of these incredibly realistic games are, I don’t think they compare to the video games of the 1980s. There is nothing like struggling to reach for another quarter in your incredibly tight acid-washed, nut-hugger jeans before the countdown to continue your turn ends. Or cooly brushing/feathering your mullet after breaking into the top ten of (insert favorite game here).

Jess is a Galaga prodigy. After breaking 40,000 on the PS2 in Galaga, we decided to drive up to Lyons, CO on Saturday night to test her skills on an actual Galaga box. On her first quarter, she got 67,910, just shy of 3rd place. I got 8,000 or so…just shy of completely embarrassing myself.

I was supposed to go see the concert of the music from the movie Once on Saturday night. I bought the tickets months ago when I first heard that they were coming to Denver. I took Jessica to see the movie so she would know the music when we went to see it.

Today, as I was searching online to remember where it was playing, my heart dropped as I noticed that the show was this past Tuesday. We missed it. : (

After a long night of ingesting red wine (me) and bourbon (dad) at The Diamond Belle saloon in Durango, we woke up well before sunrise and got on the road to see the cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde. This Colorado landmark came highly recommended by Jess, so I figured we had to drive the 45 minutes to see it….no matter how early it required us to wake up. Jess asked my what Verde means in Spanish. I suggested that it might mean “sauce”. It means “green”… Hindsight is 20/20, but I really wish I had answered something other than “sauce”.

After Mesa Verde, we headed back to Durango, found Mom, packed up the car and headed back across and up the state to Boulder. I had 8:30pm dinner reservations for Mom, Dad, Jess, Ben, Amy and I at Frasco. Ben and Amy had mentioned that they would only be joining us for dessert, so we kept the table for six. Upon being seated at one can only be described at “the largest table in Northern Colorado”, I quickly realized that if I wanted to be able to see/hear the person across from me, I best change the reservation back to four. After a bit of shuffling, they were able to put as at a table for four.

The meal was amazing! As Frasca is considered the best restaurant in Boulder by many people, I had to get the reservation two months ahead. I’ll spare you the details of every single bite, but I will say that if you ever get the chance to eat at Frasca, be sure not to miss it. We polished off every last bite of food within our reach. Jess even ate the leaf with Happy Birthday written in white chocolate…

My parents are moving to Ouray, Colorado….you heard it hear first folks.  My Mom has scouted out a lovely Victorian on the hillside next to the Bergerhof.  If the Bergers didn’t want Johnsons for neighbors, they should not have been such incredible hosts.  For example, they should not have made a delicious downhome breakfast with green chile grits.  Following that, they should not have taken Dad and I Jeeping while Mom and Mrs. Berger went shopping in town.  The combination of all these things has affixed Ouray in my parent’s head as the place they want to be.  Don’t be surprised if my Mom enters the ice climbing festival in a few years…..OK…maybe be a little surprised.

After a great day with the Bergers, we headed up and over The Million Dollar highway.  This is a gorgeous road, but definitely bring a change of shorts because there are some long, steep drops and a distinct lack of a guardrail.  My mother requested that I please refrain from looking over my shoulder and pointing.

We are now in Durango, CO.  We are staying at the DoubleTree, which is really, really nice…but everything pales in comparison to The Bergerhof.  Our room is right on the river though and they did give us the most incredible chocolate chip cookies on Earth.  I have no idea how I hadn’t heard of the DoubleTree chocolate chip cookies, but “holy crap” are they good!  Track them down and eat them….