December 28, 2007
RAD SCIENTIST SHOW 001.1: TOP 2007 SCIENCE
TONIGHT!
Get your geek on with Dr. Stoogie Hamhole, the host for the RAD SCIENTIST. It’s the inaugural RAD SCIENTIST show. This short, science and educational program will enlighten, entertain and inform the public entire. You just might learn something from space, human space flight, science, geology, astronomy, physics, biology and so much more mind numbing goodness. The top science stories of 2007.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/rad_scientist
RAD SCIENTIST SHOW 001.1: TOP 2007 SCIENCE
Date / Time: 12/28/2007 9:30 PM (Mountain Time) 10:30 PM Eastern!
Category: Science
Call-in Number: (347) 205-9005
December 27, 2007
December 26, 2007
7.8 inches
7.8 inches of snow fell on Denver on Christmas day. A Christmas record! An additional 4-8 inches is on the way for tonight. Though it's not the blizzard of 2006, it still is a beautiful wonderland!
"Country roads take me home!"
I am eating leftovers.
2008 is here soon. Does anyone have resolutions for the New Year? How about a wishlist?
Droog Christmas 2007
Droog Christmas 2007 has come and gone. This is like the 15th one! A tradition!
December 25, 2007
December 24, 2007
I will never again…
I will never again rumble and grumble about working on holidays.
The "essential personnel" moniker is more important than holidays. It's bigger than you or I. It rises above the need to spend time with friends and family on days designated by the world as "holidays." It is a position that must remain manned through thick and thin; an important job. Just like the people in the MCC – the Mission Control Center in Houston, Texas.
While working on holidays, I will now feel like the crew of Apollo 8 in 1968, as they orbited the moon on Christmas Eve, riding the best bird they could find. Their courage to explore and leave the sphere of influence of the home world inspired the world.
I can always spend time with the people in my life that I love. Everyday is a holiday to be cherished.
And from the crew radhole.com, I close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you - all of you on the good Earth.
MOM LOOK!
Christmas 2007 2 of 5
A Colm Meaney Christmas
Have a very special Colm Meaney Christmas.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all those who read this!
-RAD
December 23, 2007
Trade Gate: Droog Gridiron Challenge 2007 Fantasy Football
A message from the Commissioner:
As commissioner I am saddened that this day has come, the day when the stain of cheating tarnished our great league. Just as the NFL and Baseball have fallen on hard times so have we. Now we must face our darkest hour or "trade gate" with a resolute determination to root out the issues and create solutions.
Now we must first review the facts.
1) Russ, coach of Mission Control, traded LaDainian Tomlinson (LT) to MELT, coach of Beef in Your Taco, for a decent QB, Matt Hasselbeck and a good WR, Braylon Edwards. Russ was starting Jon Kitna of Detroit. Even if you disagree with the reasoning behind the trade you must admit that Hasselbeck is much better than Kitna SO I understand Russ's choice on some level.
2) MELT and normsquatch, coach of The Flying Douchebag’s, trade of Reggie Wayne for Justin Fargas was not fair or balanced in any way because Fargas was on INJURED RESERVE!
I interviewed all the participants and it was openly stated the normsquatch was going nowhere so he gave up and gave the player away. THIS IS A CLEAR VIOLATION! Both for squatch for not trying and essentially taking a dive like a boxer in a fixed fight, and MELT, for taking advantage of the situation and colluding to create a super team, are clearly at fault.
Now let's review those who are named in the investigation.
1) MELT AKA MELT Belichick- for being so hungry for a championship that he would stoop to any level to win. And just as his namesake Bill Belichick, he cannot see the fault in what he did.
2) Normsquatch "No Mas" - for quitting. In the great tradition of Roberto Duran, you cried "No Mas" with two rounds to fight. What the hell is that?!?!? If you are out of it, sit on the sidelines, talk trash and enjoy the show, but helping to throw the championship is not OK. It's bush league!
3) Russ "What did I Do" Dale - for trading LT to the guy in first place. I get the trade but do you see other teams rushing to help New England win in the NFL? NO!!! And why? Because you try to knock the champs down not help them get better!!! And as a Bronco fan you should know about rooting for the underdog. So no violations but SHAME and bad karma to you! Russ... beware the season ending knee injury... it will plague your team for years to come!!!! (MY RUNNING BACK WAS INJURED TODAY!)
So with that we will review draft and trade policies before next season to prevent the shameful events of this weekend from being repeated. Also further penalties may be discussed at that time, as commissioner I reserve the right to revisit this issue and dish out some retroactive JUSTICE!!
In closing I want to look to the future, to an age when the league's reputation has been repaired after having been sullied by such shameful activity. I thank you for you time on this issue. Look for future executive orders related to penalties. Oh... and Merry Christmas.
The Commissioner
Executive Order 002
As Commissioner of the Droog Fantasy Football League I do decree on this date Sunday, 23 December 2007 it is ordered that due to collusion between MELT and normsquatch in the controversy know as "Trade Gate" an asterisk (*) will be placed next to the champion of the 2007 season. The asterisk will denote that the championship was won under a cloud of suspicion as uneven trades were made to fix or rig the championship.
The Commissioner
Elias's dream
He dreamt of times long past, when he was young. Early spring, 1872.
It was a reoccurring dream, taking place well before he knew Wiggins when he was a stubborn 16-year-old boy who dreamt of doing it all and seeing it all. At this particular moment in time, it was surviving, alone, in the wild. With reluctant permission from his father, he made plans to travel southeast of Denver to set up a temporary homestead.
Most of the mountain men and trappers he had seen were grizzled men. Elias could barley grow a beard but he had read the stories and to him such a lifestyle didn’t seem difficult. It was frontier adventure to his young eyes. His father let him do pretty much anything he wanted. His dad was proud of him and his many interests. Too many interests to count. Elias never stood still and never quit learning.
To prepare, Elias and his father visited the dusty streets of the Denver business district for supplies. The two and three-story brick, stone and frame buildings, some with wood false fronts, were filled with people doing business. Horse-drawn covered delivery wagons, buggies and carriages were parked along the boardwalk. Business signs read from the simple to the bizarre: "Market," "Hats, Caps, Furnishing Goods & More,” "Proper Groceries & Tourist Supplies," "His Boots & Shoes," "Bathe Water House," "American Warehouse & Native Jewelry," "Candy Lodge" and “Cigars, Bathtub Gins & Kentucky Whiskies: Come!” Elias loved Denver.
His father purchased all the provisions Elias would need from Dobson’s General Store and Post Office on the corner of Fifteenth and Blake Streets. Fully supplied, Elias walked through the streets of Denver wearing a particularly non-handsome new deerskin coat, which was lavishly ornamented with semi-quilted brown, tan and red floral motifs and extensive fringing. The wool-lined hunting coat had flapped pockets and two rows of cartridge or shotshell holders over each breast. What caught his fancy most about the coat was its hideousness and striking elk-tooth buttons. It was a damn fine coat that cost much more than a typical 16-year-old could afford. It was one of a kind. His father hated it.
Elias needn’t worry about money. The Calhoun family struck it rich during the Gold Rush when he was a boy and his dad invested in Denver’s 5280 Water Works, a very profitable venture. His dad didn’t run the company, but he was a shrewd water baron nonetheless and made many major business decisions.
Elias walked with a youthful swagger whilst wearing the ugly coat, feeling free and powerful. Clive, his new pack mule, seemed to swagger along with each step. The new coat looked as though it repelled the dirt and dust from the hectic streets.
In his new saddlebags Elias had a sturdy supply of flour, meal, cracked corn, bacon, beans, salt and raisins. He would hunt and trap for the rest of his food. There was an abundant amount of fur-bearing game where he planned on going. He could sell the pelts from a season of trapping back in Denver to earn his keep. He enjoyed working for what he had and wanted to survive on his own, without help from the caches of money in the vaults of the prestigious banks in the city. Elias would make do without money. Who needed money when you had a repulsive coat to keep you warm?
He would make do with what nature provided him and what he learned from his father, the Indians and books.
He had several guns for hunting. He purchased two .44 caliber plum-colored Remington handguns with matching leather holsters, a sturdy stag-handled Bowie knife with 8 1/2-inch spear-point blade and a “Yellow Boy” Winchester rifle. The rifle fired 13, .44 caliber rimfire rounds from the tubular magazine underneath the barrel. He had ample ammunition.
He was excited to get moving. He was even more excited to get his hunt on. There would be plenty to hunt: antelope, bison, deer, bear, bobcat, mountain lion, wolf, coyote, raccoon, skunk, badger, muskrat, mink and weasel. The game, plus his provisions, would let him survive comfortably well into winter. If he decided to stay that long. Elias’ varied interests meant he wanted to experience everything life had to offer, which destined him getting tired of things rather quickly. With quail, prairie chicken, turkey, dove, swan and geese, there was plenty to eat if he could catch it. And catch it he would, with his bare hands if he had too. He had no misgivings about strangling a prairie chicken to death if it provided a good meal.
December 22, 2007
The Christmas Shopping
I guess I better start my Christmas shopping today.
My sister leaves for Florida today to spend Christmas away from home.
One year ago today, during the blizzard of 2006, Grandpa Dale left this good Earth. Miss ya grandpa.
December 21, 2007
quark-gluon plasma
QGP is a phase of quantum chromodynamics (QCD) which exists at extremely high temperature and/or density.
Do you learn something new everyday?
I do. Multiple things, daily, hourly, minute by minute.
Use quark-gluon plasma in a sentence:
It was so hot this summer my blood became something akin to that wacky quark-gluon plasma.
Quark-gluon plasma, not just a phase of quantum chromodynamics anymore.
December 20, 2007
Urban Garden Timelapse 2007
A timelapse of a season coming and going from the STS-13L Urban Garden Cam: Denver, Colorado.
tags: Denver garden urbangarden pumpkins timelapse peppers tomatoes flowers gardening snow rain bbq radcast chocolatestout ohmylord singing droog esp
December 18, 2007
Wierdo dream
The road.
Small broadcasts on white speakers.
Middle of nowhere.
Local folk talking.
Road ends abruptly into water. Abandoned bridge pylons. A round, arched bridge.
Abandoned truck on adjacent road.
3 guys in an outdoor “house” telling the story just heard on the radio waves.
Me, an observer.
December 17, 2007
December 15, 2007
The Christmas already?
For me anyways. My immediate family is celebrating Christmas this day. Hooray! Merry Christmas to me.
December 13, 2007
Through the Museum
When was the last time you handled a fossilized saber-toothed tiger skull? What to do on vacation?
How about an all access tour of the Denver Museum of Nature and Science!? Yes, yes, we traversed behind the dioramas, into the old parts of the building, to the roof, the basements, the penthouse, the boiler room, the tunnels, the Big Bone Room, the Titanic exhibit and more! Fossils and pipes and crawlspaces oh my! It was spectacular.
I survived the sinking of Titanic by the way. I was Mr. Edwin Nelson Kimball Jr. of Boston, Massachusetts. My wife and I both survived.
The Blizzard
The Blizzard
by RAD
Denver, Colorado – January 12, 1888
It was shortly after 6pm and it was dark! The January wind howled through Denver like a group of ravenous dogs in search of their next meal, the freezing air filled with ice and snow dust. Elias Calhoun stood in a snowdrift on the porch of his friend Walthrope Wiggins’ one-room house at 12th and Holladay Streets. He pushed some of the snow off the porch with his foot.
The short, full bearded, black-haired man tightly clutched Wiggins’ spare coat around him. The bitter cold wind penetrated the coat and chilled Elias down to his bones. It had been snowing for over 6 hours. The frigid temperatures and the blustery wind made for impossible travel conditions. The blizzard was so furious that Elias couldn’t even see the faint lights from the homes across the street. Hell, he couldn’t see 20 feet in front of him the snowstorm was so bad!
One couldn’t exactly call it a whiteout, as it was night, but it appeared menacingly darker than usual because of the roaring wind and stifling snow. By Elias’ learned estimates, men's voices wouldn’t be audible at a distance of five or six feet in this weather. Everywhere was deserted; the tree-lined dirt streets, the empty lots and the fenced lots. Not a soul was on Holladay Street.
Holladay Street is how Elias referred to it. It was now called Market Street. It was a notorious street with flophouses, gambling establishments, saloons and other diversions of the night. A mere six blocks away, on Holladay between 19th and 23rd, was “Blue Row,” the most infamous red-light district in the Rockies. Last year, at the request of stagecoach master Ben Holladay’s appalled family, for which the street was named, the street’s name was changed to Market because of the many produce markets in the neighborhood. Nobody wanted a whoring street as a namesake. Locals referred to it as Holladay Street. Old, old timers still called the street by an even older name: McGaa Street.
Regardless of the street name, not even horses were out this wintry night.
Elias had paid Wiggins a long-overdue visit mid-morning when the storm hit without warning, heralded by darkened skies and a sinister onslaught of snow and ice that sounded like an explosion, or a mineshaft collapse. At first Elias didn’t pay it any notice. Weather in Colorado was unpredictable at best, especially in the winter months. Soon enough, big white flakes were falling rapidly and the winds picked up even more. The snowstorm became a ferocious blizzard in no time at all and he decided to stay on at Wiggins’ until the storm subsided.
He laughed out loud as he went back inside, quickly pushing the door closed. He forced the door to latch because of the might of the wailing wind. Elias survived much worse than a little blizzard in his life. Still, he had to admit to himself that with this harsh cold, everyone in town was in danger not just he and Wiggins, who sat covered with mountains of warm animal skins and blankets, shivering on the bed with his eyes closed.
The freezing wind blew out the candles on the stout wooden table in the center of the room. Wringing his cold hands, Elias relit them with a stick he set ablaze using the wood burning stove in the corner. Despite the stove’s warming, it was very cold inside the small wooden house. The stove hardly provided enough warmth for survival. Just a few feet away, a bucket of water stood frozen. Wiggins would be upset because the 25-year-old kept his face cleanly shaved at all times. If he was that desperate for a shave, he could melt snow and use the water. It was too cold for any activity except sitting idle and waiting for the storm to blow over. It would be a long night.
Elias couldn’t remember another time in his 32 years that it had been this cold and snowy. It was mostly the cold that bothered him. He loved the snow. Just yesterday the temperature was a balmy 74 degrees. Animals were let out of barns and men, women and children walked the streets without warm clothing.
But this was Colorado. In 24 hours the temperature dropped to negative 28 and the blizzard had set in. Elias had also not dressed warmly. This could be the worst storm in the recollection of man. Inhabitants knew the weather in Colorado sometimes changed without warning. If only he had his old hunting coat that kept him warm years ago. He loved that damn unsightly coat.
“I can’t sleep Elias it’s so damn cold,” said Wiggins, his voice slightly drowned by the whistling wind. The two took turns, one sleeping under the warm blankets while the other would tend to the fire. The sleeper had the best of the deal.
“The storm’s not letting up,” said Elias, “and I don’t want to gamble with going out although I want some tobacco,” his breath misted in front of him, “I figure Dobson’s is open and he’s angry as hell nobody is buying his wife’s fresh baked bread.”
“MMMmm, warm bread sounds wonderful,” Wiggins said longingly, his teeth chattering. After a long pause, he looked at Elias, who shook the ice and show from his coat and boots, his mustache and beard blanketed by ice, “Why don’t you get some sleep? You’ve hardly slept old friend,” he asked.
“Good idea. It’s my turn.”
Wiggins emerged from the bed; the massive hulk of blankets covering his slight frame, “I’m glad you decided to visit today. I would have gone mad if I were here alone,” he said. Elias was seven years his senior. They had been friends since Wiggins was an 11-year-old orphan child who relied on thieving and begging to stay alive, “I’m pleased I have someone to talk with for a change.” Wiggins handed the mass of warm blankets to Elias. Wiggins wore a hefty brown coat to keep some semblance of warmth.
Elias joked, “I would much rather have a lady to keep me warm. But, instead of Miss Missy, I’m stuck here with you.”
“Even Missy is cold this night,” Wiggins said almost in disgust.
“Indeed she is old friend.”
Missy Miles
Elias first met Missy Miles two years ago while frequenting her large sporting house, the House of Statues and Palace Theater, positioned ideally at busy 14th and Blake Streets. Missy owned it, ran it and turned quite a profit doing it. That’s because the House of Statues had all the comforts of home and more. It was a gathering spot with parlors, poolroom, stage, gambling area and ballroom. Missy also made the services of a few whores available to her very special guests, the most clean and classy ladies in all of Denver.
He visited The House of Statues by chance two years ago. 30-year-old Elias had finished standing regally for a portrait in a photography studio, a birthday portrait session. He was wearing full evening dress: a black dress suit, 'swallow tail' coat, the vest cut low with a white, heavily starched shirt and white cravat. On his hands he wore gloves of the palest hue and on his head a black silk top hat. The picture, him with elegant dress and large brown mustache, would forever be captured in time. Amazing. He ordered 20 copies of the portrait. They would make fine gifts. The photographer was delighted by his business.
Impatient for fun and eager to see what Denver had in store for him that particular evening, he looked to the local red book, “A True Directory of Pleasure Resorts of the Denver. No lie.” This shirt pocket-sized, 10-page booklet was the perfect comrade for an adventurer such as he. The book wasn’t even red. It was blue. Opening the book randomly, he pointed to a page and read the entry aloud, “The House of Statues,” he said with a smile, and off he went towards 14th and Blake.
Elias strut through the double doors into a loud reception for politicians and business dignitaries that took over a majority of the establishment. Thankfully he was dressed for the occasion. As if by magical means, he immediately made eye contact with Missy Miles from across the room. She was dressed regally in an overdress of chartreuse green satin. The gown was low necked and sleeveless over a silk skirt that had a lace tablier on the front and lace flounces on the sides. The polonaise was trimmed with vines of pearl bead embroidery. There were pearl beads on the shoulders. She glowed radiantly.
He raised his hand to acknowledge her, tipping his hat, the simple cuff buttons on his coat sparkling almost supernaturally. He wasn’t an unknown in town. Elias had a reputation. She acknowledged his presence and set about making sure everyone was having a good time.
That evening he did what he did best: entertain. He drank only whiskey, threw money about, bought people drinks and made everyone laugh. He was a pleasant, well-spoken fellow, the life of the party. He told stories of his adventures growing up the son of a gold miner, his countless journeys on the frontier; like in ’72 when Mountain Daily News interviewed him after being besieged in a cave by 10 bandits near Parker, making special mention of his favorite dog-ugly coat.
He energetically performed tales of his shady barber days, his boxing days, his blacksmith days and as a rare treat, he presented the monologue about how he caused the earthquake of 1882 by triggering an avalanche while fighting a grizzly bear with just his bare hands! The earthquake of ‘82 toppled generators in Denver, knocking out the city's new electric system and was felt throughout most of Colorado, in Wyoming, well into Utah, Idaho, Kansas and Nebraska.
The people inside the House of Statues were in awe of him. It was typical Elias Calhoun. Toward the end of the evening, he had Missy, the important people, their wives and even the kitchen staff enchanted by him.
“You’re quite the merrymaker,” Missy said to Elias as he downed another shot of whiskey.
“I’m not through yet,” he said slyly, looking into her green eyes. There was a connection between the two. To top off his first night at the House of Statues, just as he finished telling the enthralled crowd about the hidden village near the Alamosa sand dunes “inhabited by an ancient clan of miniature people not more than fifteen inches high,” he was rudely interrupted by gunplay. Three masked men stood in the entryway. It was a robbery attempt.
Elias Calhoun, being the brash Elias, felt obligated to do something spectacular to finish his evening out on the town. Without any help and blithering, stumbling drunk, he fought off the three robbers, killing two and capturing one, holding the unconscious man by the collar of his jacket. As the sheriff was in the receptions attendance, Elias followed him and a small group out to watch the criminal’s hanging. The crook’s last breath and writhing death complete, Elias threw up and passed out at the base of the makeshift gallows. Miss Missy took him in, cleaned him up and bed him down for the night.
After this unforgettable incident, he was always welcome at House of Statues. He and Miss Missy became good friends and occasional lovers. It was more stories to be added to his book.
December 12, 2007
Hilltop Bistro in Golden, CO
Hilltop Bistro
1518 Washington Ave
Golden, CO 80401
(303) 279-8151
http://goldenhilltopbistro.com/
It was a snowy day in Golden, Colorado, a quaint town to the west of the Denver where the West lives. It says so right on the sign. It was the perfect winter day to have lunch with an old friend at the Hilltop Bistro. I arrived early and was the only person inside. The staff hooked me up with some spicy sausage soup. Delish!
After what seemed like hours of quasi-silence slurping soup, from the blustery, snowy outsides walked Serena. From across the room I spied her, oh Serena, the brilliant gleam of her smile and her very presence immediately warmed up the room. I was still the only person in the establishment and was jumping and laughing and beckoning her in excitement to dine with me. Serena came looking, so the theatrics were not needed. She and I went to elementary school together. Her very name translated into a forgotten foreign tongue would be “She Walks With Grace, A Beauty to Behold.”
Beverages abound; lunch began. I had penne pasta with sun-dried tomato cream, chopped basil topped with Parmesan cheese. I also tried the Miso grilled salmon and fancy green beans. Yummy. The food was delicious and hot and arrived within no time. The bread was great. An overall excellent dining experience. The Bistro could do so much with the décor and there are plenty of tables to accommodate a lot of people. I noticed a few cracks in the ceiling and the walls. Perhaps the building is slowly sliding off the hilltop?
And the waitress, the faithful Misty Brown, catered to every whim and kept a steady stream of iced tea flowing as if she innately knew my beverage/hydration needs. I was too embarrassed to ask for a pitcher or carafe of tea with a lone straw peeking out from the top and several lemon wedges in a porcelain bowl. I consume beverage like a madman.
Besides the goodly foodstuffs, it really is all about good company and good conversation. One could be in the worst pit of a dive restaurant but with the right person, the dive restaurant would be transformed into a palace dining room.
Heading to the pink bathroom was an experience. A woman, a mannequin woman, laid sprawled in the tub, beckoning one to jump in and join the frolic. But then you realize how foolish that would be, because after all, she is a mannequin woman. That never stopped me before…
The Hilltop Bistro does indeed reside on a hill; a hill overlooking mountain beauty and invites people to take to new heights.
Boxing Dreams
Heavyweight Russell “McLargeHuge” Dale tells the world his boxing philosophy.
December 11, 2007
December 9, 2007
SCRUBBED!
Atlantis' launch is rescheduled for no earlier than Jan. 2, 2008 because of the wacky engine cutoff sensor system that measures liquid hydrogen in the external tank. BAH!
December 8, 2007
Atlantis is "Go"
Space shuttle Atlantis is scheduled to launch Sunday, Dec. 9, at 3:21 p.m. EST. NASA TV!
December 7, 2007
December 6, 2007
Atlantis Launch Scrubbed
The shuttle launch was scrubbed due to bad readings in two of four hydrogen fuel gauges! A fuel sensor glitch! Bah! Perhaps tomorrow.
December 5, 2007
Merry Christmas From the Dale's
Merry Christmas From the Dale's
Launch is neigh
Mission STS-122 is scheduled to launch Thursday at 4:31 p.m. EST from NASA's Florida launch base.
The Space Shuttle Atlantis' 11-day mission to the International Space Station Alpha is only the next key piece in the ever expanding Space Station. They are delivering the European Space Agency’s Columbus module. Complicated spacewalks in the dangerous zero-g environment are to come. I’m hot for EVA.
December 4, 2007
December 3, 2007
Me, STS-122 and you.
RADcast: Me, STS-122 and you.
Date / Time: Thursday 12/6/2007 8:30 PM Mountain Time (10:30 PM Eastern) Category: Comedy
Call-in Number: (646) 915-9516
Russ and Matt take you through the STS-122 space shuttle mission and more.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/radhole
STS-122
Come to RADhole to learn all you can and more about STS-122, the Space Shuttle Atlantis' 11-day mission to the International Space Station Alpha. They are delivering the European Space Agency’s Columbus module. Launch is Thursday at 4:31 p.m. EST. NASA TV yo.
Fantasy football standings
At least my team, Mission Control, isn't in last place overall. Like last year.
December 2, 2007
famous queso
My famous chili con queso is set to slow cookin'!
Holidays and Things
Twas fun last night. Pics here.
Guinness Treat
December 1, 2007
Holiday Festivities
Like a good Denverite, I am going to the Candy Cane Festival and the Parade of Lights today. Pictures to come of course.
The Winter Asylum
