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Summit Up

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column reporting to you live from the parking lot formerly known as the Town of Frisco.

If you passed by downtown, metropolitan Frisco without venturing down Main Street yesterday, we urge you to do so today. You’ll thank us.

No, just kidding. You should come to Frisco. There’s this thing going on, the ritual Charring of the Flesh for Fun, we like to call it, but town organizers get mad when we call it that and not the “Barbecue Challenge.” Although it does bring the sweet smells of hickory, spices and bacon (let’s not forget funnel cakes!), it also brings with it hordes of people who all seem to have arrived in separate RVs, which they then proceed to park in every available space of road shoulder.

Granted, if we didn’t have to work (yes, we call this work), we probably wouldn’t mind a bit. We’d be out there, lollygagging around, sniffing ribs and asking these Texan and Kansan barbecue kings if they’ve ever thought of bottling their homemade sauces as deodorants (because whose woman wouldn’t swoon for that fresh mesquite scent?).

But we are working. And it makes it pretty hard to chase ambulances through throngs of people, we must say. Well, now that we think of it, if we go first and run into the throng of people, the ambulance will come to us and everybody wins – we’ve got our news, and the paramedics are doing the same work they’d be doing the other way around.

Sheer genius, isn’t it? So come to Frisco – just look out for us.


We spent Thursday evening in Vail at a concert (Norah Jones – a wonderful show, by the way). But aside from the show and the egregious price they put on a bottle of wine at the Ford Amphitheater, we couldn’t help noticing a strange follicle phenomenon: Why is it, do you suppose, that Vail has such a profusion of blonds compared to Summit Up Land?

Seriously, it was very Twilight Zone-ish. If we had to guess, we’d say a good 40 percent of the women were blond (including the natural ones). And yet, we look around here and we don’t notice nearly as many.

We’d love for you all to weigh in on this one:, fax at (970) 668-0755 or just leave a message on the voicemail while your peroxide is drying at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237.


We’ll leave you this fine Saturday with a few of life’s unanswered questions, at least the ones sent to us by Shirt Off My Back employees in River Run:

What does the “K” in K-Mart actually stand for? Why do we say “bye-bye” but not “hi-hi”? If Milli Vanilli fell in the woods, would someone else make a sound?

Ponder that. We’re out eating barbecue …

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