Good Morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column that’s all tatted up.
But our visit to the Purple Lotus tattoo parlor in Frisco to see our friend and cohort Brock Stone get inked – see photo above – failed to change our outlook on the practice as a whole (although the snake and pretty ladies do look stunning, Brock.)
The idea of permanently altering your skin when you are young and myopic strikes us as questionable at best. We barely trust ourselves to choose the right underwear in the morning, let alone an unremovable piece of art to follow us wherever we go.
Things change, desires change. What if our friend who ordered the voluptuous ladies on his back suddenly realizes he is gay? Or what if the guy with the snake on his arm (we’ve all seen him) eventually develops a snake phobia? Or perhaps the woman with a discreet flower inked on her hip will develop an allergy to plant-life.
The main problem with us and tattoos is that Summit Up is by nature an amoebic, morphing entity that can’t be ruled by an ink lord. Without the right to change our mind in mid-sentence, our very survival as a daily column would be threatened.
We regret to report that our attempts to help get Troy Gordon and his workmates a date has failed miserably. About a week ago, we tried to play matchmaker and hook Troy and his tradesmen fellows up with any of the exquisite ladies we refer to as the “Flower Girls.” The women who attend to Frisco’s and Dillon’s Main Street flower boxes must be attached and/or unimpressed, however, as none has contacted poor Troy.
“Whatever the reason, we might have to use the more traditional, “cheesy’ approach – going right up to them in traffic and asking them out personally,” Troy wrote. “I was hoping to avoid this as the word “date’ doesn’t mix well between blue-collar workers.”
Troy thanked us for trying anyway and said, “I guess this six-foot, attractive 32-year-old is still out on the market and available if anyone else is interested.” His e-mail address is
email@example.com, by the way.
Buck up, Troy. Maybe the Flower Girls just take time to bloom.
Shelley in Dillon wrote us a letter – quite alarmed after seeing some brave soul swimming in Dillon Reservoir. Shelley says it was about 2 p.m. last week and she was driving on the Dam Road, just admiring all the water we’re lucky to have for the moment and she “saw what looked like two really big geese awkwardly doing the Butterfly in the water. Since that scenario didn’t seem likely, I did a double take and I realized it was two homosapiens, racing ala Mark Spitz and Amy Van Dyken to a little island. I quickly called to my 5-year-old in the back seat to confirm my reality and he was able to give me a positive confirmation.”
Shelley continued, “I must know who these subversives are. Do they have proper clearance and papers? Do they have everything straight with the INS? Maybe John Ashcroft needs to be put on the case. But … perhaps I am swimming to conclusions. Maybe they just know something I don’t. Did the rules change? Did I miss some sort of announcement? Did the Denver Water Board mercifully give us the big Go Ahead after reading my impassioned plea? Has the Local’s Water Pass gone from fantasy to reality in such a short time and with no City Council meetings or any investigation from an official Task Force? Did Superman reverse the rotation of the earth?”
No, Shelley. As the sheriff’s office tells us, it’s still illegal to take a swim. Specifically, it’s a second-class petty offense. If caught, your first offense will get you a $50 fine, and it goes up from there.
Birthday wishes go out to young Will McDonald. On this very Monday, master McDonald turns a gaudy 11 years old. Happy birthday, big man! Unfortunately, we could not fit the photo of Will provided by his family for this announcement, so we’ll describe it: intense stare, athletic stance, black and white. A picture says a thousand words, and there are seven of them.
Merry Monday; we’re out.
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