June 11th 1981

posted in: Innocents Abroad | 0

Woke up early, and played Pat at Othello, while he cooked us a great breakfast – eggs, hash browns, and English muffins.  He still beat me.  Afterwards, we went for a drive, stopped off to buy me some plimsolls, then went to a drive-in bank.  Amazing.  Next, Pat (off work with a bad back) took us out to ther Denver Museum of Natural History.  This, in contrast to the Heritage Center, was laid out well, and had much to see, especially some very impressive dinosaur bones, and well-mounted displays of stuffed local wildlife.  We also attended a short display of living snakes, which was good but spoilt rather by squealing kids.  We bought our lunch at a submarine sandwich shop, took them home and ate them.  Then Kathy, a friend of Mark’s, came round, + we drove out to Red Rocks, a natural amphitheatre, used for concerts.  Unfortunately, there was one there that evening, so we couldn’t go and see it.  Drove back to Heritage Square, a small fair and tourist area, which boasted an Alpine slide.  Once again, tho’, we were thwarted, since it cost $3 a throw… or slide.  We drove home, met s guy called Mark – Mark II, I suppose – and went to a record store, where we bought Mark I and Pat Peter Gabriel III, collected Pat’s daughter, and bought the food for the evening meal – a barbecue!  A real relaxed American evening – a barbecue on the roof area, lots of Budweiser, lots to smoke, nice people to talk to, and terrific food – ribs, French fries and green beans in mushroom sauce.  I was totally wasted from about 4 o’clock that afternoon, existing on 2 levels – reality and daydream.  During the evening, I had to go to the liquor store to buy another case of Bud, and as they sold Samuel Smith’s there, I bought half a dozen – it got a mixed response.  A nice day.

Interesting that $3 should prove such a barrier, but I suppose that, when trying to live on $10 a day, spending a third of that on an alpine slide (and presumably two thirds for the two of us) it becomes more understandable.  Apologies for the description of my stoned state, very rarely making for an interesting read. And apologies for my (second) complaint about squealing children. And there’s me a teacher!

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