Life at 5,280

I am currently broadcasting from Room 423 of the Oxford Hotel in downtown Denver. My cousin got hitched out here yesterday, which explains the whole two-time-zone-away thing. Figured I would take a few minutes while I'm waiting for my cousins to make a decision on dinner to do a quick post.

One of the first things that my Dad's friend noticed Thursday was the utter rarity of obesity in this city. I am told that this is one of the five healthiest cities in our nation, and the abundance of bike riders and granola might have something to do with that.

Coors Field, the thirteen year old home of the Colorado Rockies, is a five minute walk from my hotel. If you are even a smidgen of a baseball fan and find yourself out here, the tour of the stadium is great! At $7, the tour is a third of the cost of Fenway Park's, and you basically get to go everywhere except the home locker room and fair territory on the field. The table in the visiting locker room still contains a David Ortiz cleat mark from last season's World Series celebration, and the picture my dad took of me on the top step of the Rockies' dugout will toolishly preside as my Facebook pic for a while. Other fun things to do are stroll down the 16th Street Mall and drink one (or twenty) of the city's four jabbabillion microbrews.

Last night's events made up one of those nights that you do not forget for a long time. The wedding was great, and my cousin and her betrothed are two genuinely solid people. The "mobbed out" New Yorkers, my family and all of their 50-something rowdy friends really set the tone for an unabashed fun celebration, and I'm pretty sure I taught the Electric Slide to a cute girl or two. As someone who has tremendous admiration for the institution of marriage, it made me think a little about my own wedding somewhere down the road of this life.