Skip to main content

Queen City 16

Friends,

They say you learn something new every day (granted, when you’re my age you may have to forget something to make room for the new info). Just last week, despite living here for over twenty years, I found out Denver is the Queen City of the Plains. It happened as the consequence of a recent donut run to Pandemic Donuts –which disappointingly landed me at Queen City Collective Café (on a side note, the nom de plume used as visitor bait worked). Coincidentally, my colleague Steve Smith had visited Queen City Architectural Salvage earlier in the week – where he learned from the proprietor that the establishment was named after Denver! Pretty cool, right? So why does the grandiose moniker of “Queen City” have such a low profile? Well, it turns-out queen cities are a dime a dozen. There are 39 Queen Cities in the U.S. alone and no less than six abroad. Not as cool as I expected. Then again, maybe there is something we can do to bring some prestige back to the name. It occurs to me that with March madness over, settling the Queen City debate may be great fodder for a new tournament. In order to get to a manageable number, we can ignore the foreign Queen cities (sorry Auckland, Toronto, et al, you’re just too far) and those with no caveat (sorry, Charlotte and Seattle, you’re just too assertive) and focus exclusively on cities whose alter ego begins with “queen city of the…”). That brings us to eighteen contenders, of which we pick sixteen (sorry, Queen cities of the Ozarks and the Sound – maybe next time). The stage is set for the Queen City 16! I’ve taken the liberty of creating my bracket for how I think the tournament would play-out. The final four would feature the winner of each divisional grouping (to wit, water-themed titles, directional titles, topography-inspired titles and fun names). Denver’s route to the top starts with Sedalia, Missouri (queen of the Prairies) and goes through Helena, Montana (queen of the Rockies) to win the topographically themed queen division. Then, after a tough battle with Selma, Alabama (queen of the Blackbelt), the final showdown with Buffalo, New York (queen of the Great Lakes) would crown Denver THE queen city. As for the modality, I think a cage fight between mayors, as representatives of their proud people, would maximize entertainment value.

In any event, while the selfie by the Pandemic Donuts sign was not to be, at least I got a new piece of useless trivia from the trip – and donuts, can't forget the donuts!

Happy Friday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love and Marriage go together like a Horse and... Donut!

Friends, My family gained a new daughter last week. As I welcome the freshly minted Mrs. González, I wish the new couple a lasting, loving, happy and tranquil marriage. I am also reminded of a special delivery I received at the wedding. A few weeks ago, my niece/goddaughter held a “go fund me” and offered to stitch something for the donors. I, of corse, asked for a horse jumping through a donut. The completed masterpiece depicting this unlikely combo now has a special place in my office, and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. That said, I may forgo the obligatory donut today and opt for some of the leftover cake we still have at the house. Happy Friday!   New addition to the Family Horse through donut  with the artist   Horse through donut at it’s new home shelf P.S. The donut wall in action.

Anthropomorphic Donuts

Friends, The human form is the measure by which we frame the world around us. We are, after all, most familiar with (and full of) ourselves. Take the friendly elevator at Shift, the coworking environment where I sometimes migrate to change scenery. It’s no more or less efficient than other elevators, yet, the illusion of a smiley face created by the card reader’s reflection makes the space just a tad more endearing. The elevator could, for all I know, be an evil machine plotting my demise. Nah! Who am I kidding, it can’t be. What with its symmetric “eyes” and understated grin. Nothing so cute could possibly be waiting for the right moment to plunge me to my grave from the top floor. Could it? Another example: receiving two thumbs up is universally accepted as a sign of having done a great job. Unless, of course, if it’s coming from a koala bear. With two opposable thumbs in each hand, anything short of four thumbs has room for improvement. Which leads me to donuts. Last week’s expedit

THE Oasis

Friends, The book  Ready Player One  sent me down memory lane this week. The journey was not triggered by the author’s excessive references to the 1980s, which border on obsessive. Rather, it was the name of the massive virtual reality simulation used by characters in this dystopian future to escape their grim surroundings: The OASIS. You see, that was also the name of my grandfather’s country estate, the setting where a disproportionate share of my treasured childhood memories were created.  La Quinta Oasis was a bucolic old whitewashed house with a massive stone staircase, three foot thick adobe walls and wooden window shutters that, when closed at night, would submerge the residence in pitch darkness. With no running water, electricity, phone or indoor plumbing, the only modern convenience was the battery transistor radio on which my uncles would listen to “Chucho el Roto”, a radio soap opera. The Spanish fighting roosters crowed long before sunrise, making it difficult to fall back