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Summit Up

Special to the Daily/Thomas ZiebaMike was kind enough to show off the various decorations he wore for this year's Oktoberfest.

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column with a flair for disguises rivaling the faces of Irwin Fletcher.

The top-secret underground vault below our fortified compound holds the means to make us one of you. We’ve got every headpiece from a blue fedora to Carmen Miranda’s fruit hat, and bowties of all shapes and sizes.

We have big metal drawers containing more than 90 pounds of human hair ” in all colors ” more than 600 pounds of foam rubber and an array of fabrics rivaling Giorgio Armani.

Whether appearing as a crossing guard, a mustached guerilla militant or your best friend’s grinning grandmother, we will not be exposed.

More than the usual schmattering of these disguises saw light for yesterday’s riveting task. What were we up to? Perhaps we were intercepting spies from abroad, tailing corrupt politicians or hunting down terrorists?

Nah, those stories can wait. Yesterday’s task involved infiltrating the queue at the new burrito joint.

The folks at Chipotle were limiting their free burrito deal to one per customer. But oh, they never expected our covert team of ravenous soldiers to return again, and again. And later on, for dinner.

It was a good racket, an easy job.

Easy ” but not without a challenge. Our operatives are trained in six different languages, but accents are a different ballgame. The guy at the counter gave us an awkward look when our Carolina slang stammered into Texas twang.

With a lump in our throat, we nodded and walked out the door, burrito in hand, sweat on the brow.

Yeah, it was intense, but our confidence doesn’t waver. We’re the smooth reckoner with the swagger of a British prince; we’re the ninja who steps into a shadow and disappears; the Chuck Norris of hand-to-hand combat; and the Frank Abagnale of high country schmoozing.

Tomorrow we’ve got another, more dangerous mission that could impact the whole world. We’re not telling you what it is, and it may never make headlines. Just know that the mysterious guy next to you on the bus, the one with Wayfarer shades, Doc Martens and a flowing red beard, he may have just saved your life.


In other news, part-time Coloradan John Chambers shares some peeve material pursuant to Tuesday’s rant carried on this page.

He says Colorado highway drivers who cruise the left lane, blocking traffic and stirring up negative feelings, would incite sinister acts in New York City and New Jersey.

“Keeping the passing lane open doesn’t seem to be a common courtesy that’s caught on yet in Colorado,” he said.

He also said motorists’ cell phone use is nearing “epidemic” proportions, and another cause for highway bottlenecks.

And Mr. Chambers has a fantastic idea to help remedy our falling-change issue: “The pocket-like containers that used to be use to dispense French fries might make quite nice devices with which to hand back change to customers.”


It’s Thursday and we’re out running up Mr. Underhill’s tab at the country club.

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