Books and other stuff I feel like discussing
By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
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On my way to real life
About six weeks ago, now.
Returning Coors Field staff meets for one half day session just before Opening Day, each year. The time is required. Mostly we hear about various employee policies which get minor tweaks every now and then - the employee ticket allotment, uniform policies, time clocks and ID's.
This year, as I entered the service level door, I walked by several large hand trucks and fork lifts piled high with gear bags. Sitting brightly atop one stack was a red, yellow and white bag from the World Baseball Classic. The others were all the familiar Rockies purple and black, making the WBC bag resemble a cherry perched atop an ice cream sundae drenched in some dark sauce of questionable identity.
Turned out the team was on its way to Milwaukee to begin the season, and the extra gear items had been shipped from spring training in Arizona back to Denver. As I walked along the passageway, I met several clubhouse attendants coming the other way, all of them involved in moving stuff down to the Rockies locker rooms and clubhouse.
The floor near the special restaurant used by holders of expensive tickets was covered in corrugated cardboard, and the tracks of the carts and lifts were visible - the staff had made several trips already.
Also lined up in the hallway were several very impressive Harleys, and parked beside them, looking for all the world like a pesky little brother, was a mini-bike.
I moved past the restaurant around the corner to the elevator and went up to the conference room. This is adjacent to the "super suites" and the opening day preparation was in full swing there, too.
Several ice buckets - not yet filled with ice - along with an array of bottles of wine and an impressive layout for what would be a dessert bar.
As impressive as these suites are, when I think about going to a game, I think about the muted buzz of the concourse, the smell of onions, the sticky sensation of beer or a soft drink on the cement beneath my feet, and the "whoop" which alerts me to an incoming foul ball. Would I sit in a suite if I was invited? Probably. Would I find several reasons to sneak out and go downstairs at least twice? Sure!
Returning Coors Field staff meets for one half day session just before Opening Day, each year. The time is required. Mostly we hear about various employee policies which get minor tweaks every now and then - the employee ticket allotment, uniform policies, time clocks and ID's.
This year, as I entered the service level door, I walked by several large hand trucks and fork lifts piled high with gear bags. Sitting brightly atop one stack was a red, yellow and white bag from the World Baseball Classic. The others were all the familiar Rockies purple and black, making the WBC bag resemble a cherry perched atop an ice cream sundae drenched in some dark sauce of questionable identity.
Turned out the team was on its way to Milwaukee to begin the season, and the extra gear items had been shipped from spring training in Arizona back to Denver. As I walked along the passageway, I met several clubhouse attendants coming the other way, all of them involved in moving stuff down to the Rockies locker rooms and clubhouse.
The floor near the special restaurant used by holders of expensive tickets was covered in corrugated cardboard, and the tracks of the carts and lifts were visible - the staff had made several trips already.
Also lined up in the hallway were several very impressive Harleys, and parked beside them, looking for all the world like a pesky little brother, was a mini-bike.
I moved past the restaurant around the corner to the elevator and went up to the conference room. This is adjacent to the "super suites" and the opening day preparation was in full swing there, too.
Several ice buckets - not yet filled with ice - along with an array of bottles of wine and an impressive layout for what would be a dessert bar.
As impressive as these suites are, when I think about going to a game, I think about the muted buzz of the concourse, the smell of onions, the sticky sensation of beer or a soft drink on the cement beneath my feet, and the "whoop" which alerts me to an incoming foul ball. Would I sit in a suite if I was invited? Probably. Would I find several reasons to sneak out and go downstairs at least twice? Sure!
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