As the Governor and Senators 35’ Obama Hope and Change Express rumbled west on Highway 40 through Hot Sulphur Springs, way later than 10:00 PM, the expectant and disappointed crowd who’d fallaciously assembled to greet them had long since departed The Riverside. No one who made the trek to The Riverside that night was too upset, as we turned the evening into a bit of a party, complete with food and liquor sales that would have been absent on a normal Thursday night during the off-season; besides, shame on all of us if we actually expected a politician to deliver on a promise.
The next day brought a private luncheon for a group of ten retired Grand County High School teachers, for which our morning preparations lent us an opportunity to quickly forget about the big night that wasn’t. About halfway through the luncheon, I was summoned to the phone to speak with…...Rebecca of the Obama Campaign. It seems that they might have some time on their way back from Steamboat Springs to stop at The Riverside after all. And as luck would have it, they were only a short 30 minutes away. The Sino-American fire drill necessary to prepare for our distinguished "maybe that might actually show up this time" guests was once again set in motion. This time I didn’t have time to give a damn about what shirt I was wearing.
I quickly learned that there is an underground Morse-code notification system between the seven democrats in Hot Sulphur Springs, as they were all assembled at the hotel within five minutes of my warning phone call from Rebecca. How did they know, as Rebecca seemed to have been winging things from the RV? Their leader came with a few large Obama signs that she asked if we would hang in the windows of the hotel, perhaps to serve as a beacon that would signal the Obama-mobile in this hostile, Right-wing environment. It was bad enough that I’d have this rolling campaign advertisement parking in front of our building, let alone have our hotel window honking validation of what was not our political preference in a town that is not only not on the Donkey team, but were an actual donkey to wander into Hot Sulphur, the line to shoot it's brains out would be long and distinguished.
To that point, any business owner that professes their political preference runs the risk of alienating roughly 50% of their paying public. Know your clientele, and if you want them to give you money, don’t slaughter their sacred cows with what might be a contrary political poster in your window. There isn’t any President actually putting any money in your coffers – it’s Seth and Sung Lee from Boulder with their Visa in hand, that not knowing your true political leanings, will help you make your mortgage. And it’s Fran and Frank in Hot Sulphur that wouldn’t spend a nickel to pee in your pot if they knew that you supported someone who might try and take their AA-12’s away. Be neutral, buy patrons.
So after a mad scramble, we’re ready for the arrival of last nights’ politically celebrity-laden RV. And it arrives. There wasn’t a Senator or a Governor on the bus; at least not a sitting Senator or Governor. The sitting Senator, Ken Salazar, left the group in Steamboat in the early AM and headed on to Denver - more important business to be dealt with. We were left with a visit only from the Governor – not the real Governor, Bill Ritter, Mr. Up-And-Coming superstar Boulder-Guy from a low-key western state that always votes for a Re-pub – but Roy Romer, the old Democratic Guv from a western state that always votes Re-pub. Holy Crap! I about stroked out the last few days thinking I was about to have to match wits with a sitting US Senator and the current hot-property State Governor, and I get sloppy seconds on a scale that would make Grand County politics seem like bubble & squeak.
The big RV doesn’t park in front of The Riverside, but pulls around the corner and parks in front of “Rusty Pipes” Plumbing Store. The group enters, mostly young political types – bug-eyed and wondering just what the hell Rebecca was doing when she scheduled a stop at this out-of-the way hole-in the-wall (Thank God we didn’t make time last night to get here !!). Ex-Governor Romer and his lovely wife Bea sniffed about the place with moderate interest as to what we did and what transpired here before we did what we do here. The rest of the crew seemed intent on getting the Ex-Guv and his wife out of here as quickly as they’d gotten in here. No press was here, very few votes to be had; really, what was the purpose – they didn’t even need to use the bathroom.
As I showed our guests around The Riverside, I spoke to Governor Romer with passion of the pride in our venture – we aren’t just entrepreneurs who chucked it all to buy this historic outpost in your beautiful state, more importantly, we’re stewards of Colorado’s history. His vacant look told me that as there were no votes to be had, he wasn’t interested in being Governor anymore and he wasn’t interested in us being historical stewards of his state – he wanted to get back on that RV, use a clean bathroom, and stretch his legs all the way to Denver.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The Big Night
October 22nd, a late afternoon message on the machine tells me that Rebecca, of the Obama campaign, wants to verify when we close on the following day, as the Governor and US Senator of Colorado want to stop by the hotel for a “meet and greet” on their way to Steamboat Springs, where they will spend the night. The Governor and Senator of Colorado – she says this so casually and nonchalantly, as if it is a daily occurrence to have people of their esteemed ilk stop by your business. I listen to the message numerous times, wondering if in fact it is a prank; I don’t recognize the voice, I don’t recognize the area code, and I know for certain that I have no female friends that are capable of pranking to that level, so I decide to bite.
I called Rebecca back, and she indeed verified that the Governor and Senator were on a tour of rural Colorado – the part of Colorado that is overwhelmingly Republican, due in large part to the gun issue – trying to gain support for the Democratic ticket. The plan was for the entourage to eat dinner in Idaho Springs, then head west on Highway 40 to Steamboat Springs, where they had a morning get-together with the Steamboat Springs ROTC (Their target-market gun-clingers.) They wanted to stop in Hot Sulphur Springs, viewing it as a halfway point to “stretch their legs”. I’d think traveling in a 35 foot RV would give you the opportunity to continually stretch your legs – that’s why you’d take the RV instead of a green-themed posse of Toyota Hybrids. We’re talking about 3-ish hour trip from start to finish, Denver to Steamboat Springs. These same people would comfortably and without a complaint sit on a 767 for 12 hours on a fact-finding junket to China and not have 1/10th of the leg stretching room afforded in a 35-foot RV – oops, maybe in first-class they would. Anyway, the plan was to pull up at The Riverside at 8:15, meet with us and the locals for 30 minutes, and then RV-on to Steamboat Springs.
Imagine my excitement! Not only would we be hosting and meeting the Governor and US Senator of our newly-adopted home of Colorado, but the greater-than-gold opportunity for press and publicity that was way far beyond our financial ken. I envisioned the pictures of us with these two political icons, plastered on the front page of the Ski-Hi Daily News and forever hanging in our lobby for the future generations, adding a heretofore never written chapter to the history of this building – “Governor and Senator visit Hot Sulphurs’ Historic Riverside”. In fact I was so excited, that I began to feel the familiar burn of excess stomach acid slowly crawling up my esophagus. What would I say to a sitting Senator and Governor without looking like a total idiot, on-the- spot glibness not being one of my strong suits. Worse yet, would I have to make some sort of small speech to the assembled throng, a throng that would feature people who’ve cut a fat hog doing nothing but making speeches to throngs. The acid went from crawling to sprinting up my esophagus at the thought.
The next day was spent preparing the hotel and restaurant for the big night, as well as making a few well placed phone calls notifying some key Grand County contacts of the impending event. (I was told by Rebecca that the visit was low keyed with no press being notified, but I might want to let a few locals know so there would be someone to meet them beyond Julie, me and the dog.) Those notified included the local mortician/town hall gadabout, who also had close connections with the Ski-Hi Daily news, and a few friends in the business community, known to have numerous important contacts with those who would at least come and support my political side of the fence. (Did I mention that the RV-riding, leg-stretching visitors were Democrats?) It wasn’t long before the phone started ringing with queries from all manner of friends and strangers asking for the details of the evenings’ visit. I told three people, and that mushroomed into a call from the Mayor of Grand Lake, who heard about it from Mary, who heard about it from a lady at the Grand Lake post office. Yikes! Needless to say, that ‘speech in front of the throng’-fear suddenly resurfaced from the very bottom of my bowels with Vesuvian force.
As the time approached for the opening of the restaurant, and all of the last minute details were being attended to – including a protracted deliberation with myself over what shirt I should wear in which to be photographed for posterity’s sake – I took a phone call from Rebecca, the casual organizer. Rebecca casually informed me that the group had “way overspent” their time in Denver and subsequent stops, and wouldn’t be able to stop by the hotel until “way after” 10:00 PM, and was therefore cancelling the visit. She said this as though it were in fact just Julie, me and the dog that they had planned to drop in to see. I was stunned, devastated, really, really, really sick to my stomach. I had all of these people coming to the Riverside – what manner of fool would they make me out to be? I told Rebecca, “Oh My God, I’ve got quite a crowd on their way here as we speak, and what in the world do we do??” A casual “sorry” was about all she could muster. I didn’t offer, and she didn’t ask for, my support in the upcoming election; that, along with our photo op, our front page story and our credibility with the locals, went the way of the delinquent RV.
October 22nd, a late afternoon message on the machine tells me that Rebecca, of the Obama campaign, wants to verify when we close on the following day, as the Governor and US Senator of Colorado want to stop by the hotel for a “meet and greet” on their way to Steamboat Springs, where they will spend the night. The Governor and Senator of Colorado – she says this so casually and nonchalantly, as if it is a daily occurrence to have people of their esteemed ilk stop by your business. I listen to the message numerous times, wondering if in fact it is a prank; I don’t recognize the voice, I don’t recognize the area code, and I know for certain that I have no female friends that are capable of pranking to that level, so I decide to bite.
I called Rebecca back, and she indeed verified that the Governor and Senator were on a tour of rural Colorado – the part of Colorado that is overwhelmingly Republican, due in large part to the gun issue – trying to gain support for the Democratic ticket. The plan was for the entourage to eat dinner in Idaho Springs, then head west on Highway 40 to Steamboat Springs, where they had a morning get-together with the Steamboat Springs ROTC (Their target-market gun-clingers.) They wanted to stop in Hot Sulphur Springs, viewing it as a halfway point to “stretch their legs”. I’d think traveling in a 35 foot RV would give you the opportunity to continually stretch your legs – that’s why you’d take the RV instead of a green-themed posse of Toyota Hybrids. We’re talking about 3-ish hour trip from start to finish, Denver to Steamboat Springs. These same people would comfortably and without a complaint sit on a 767 for 12 hours on a fact-finding junket to China and not have 1/10th of the leg stretching room afforded in a 35-foot RV – oops, maybe in first-class they would. Anyway, the plan was to pull up at The Riverside at 8:15, meet with us and the locals for 30 minutes, and then RV-on to Steamboat Springs.
Imagine my excitement! Not only would we be hosting and meeting the Governor and US Senator of our newly-adopted home of Colorado, but the greater-than-gold opportunity for press and publicity that was way far beyond our financial ken. I envisioned the pictures of us with these two political icons, plastered on the front page of the Ski-Hi Daily News and forever hanging in our lobby for the future generations, adding a heretofore never written chapter to the history of this building – “Governor and Senator visit Hot Sulphurs’ Historic Riverside”. In fact I was so excited, that I began to feel the familiar burn of excess stomach acid slowly crawling up my esophagus. What would I say to a sitting Senator and Governor without looking like a total idiot, on-the- spot glibness not being one of my strong suits. Worse yet, would I have to make some sort of small speech to the assembled throng, a throng that would feature people who’ve cut a fat hog doing nothing but making speeches to throngs. The acid went from crawling to sprinting up my esophagus at the thought.
The next day was spent preparing the hotel and restaurant for the big night, as well as making a few well placed phone calls notifying some key Grand County contacts of the impending event. (I was told by Rebecca that the visit was low keyed with no press being notified, but I might want to let a few locals know so there would be someone to meet them beyond Julie, me and the dog.) Those notified included the local mortician/town hall gadabout, who also had close connections with the Ski-Hi Daily news, and a few friends in the business community, known to have numerous important contacts with those who would at least come and support my political side of the fence. (Did I mention that the RV-riding, leg-stretching visitors were Democrats?) It wasn’t long before the phone started ringing with queries from all manner of friends and strangers asking for the details of the evenings’ visit. I told three people, and that mushroomed into a call from the Mayor of Grand Lake, who heard about it from Mary, who heard about it from a lady at the Grand Lake post office. Yikes! Needless to say, that ‘speech in front of the throng’-fear suddenly resurfaced from the very bottom of my bowels with Vesuvian force.
As the time approached for the opening of the restaurant, and all of the last minute details were being attended to – including a protracted deliberation with myself over what shirt I should wear in which to be photographed for posterity’s sake – I took a phone call from Rebecca, the casual organizer. Rebecca casually informed me that the group had “way overspent” their time in Denver and subsequent stops, and wouldn’t be able to stop by the hotel until “way after” 10:00 PM, and was therefore cancelling the visit. She said this as though it were in fact just Julie, me and the dog that they had planned to drop in to see. I was stunned, devastated, really, really, really sick to my stomach. I had all of these people coming to the Riverside – what manner of fool would they make me out to be? I told Rebecca, “Oh My God, I’ve got quite a crowd on their way here as we speak, and what in the world do we do??” A casual “sorry” was about all she could muster. I didn’t offer, and she didn’t ask for, my support in the upcoming election; that, along with our photo op, our front page story and our credibility with the locals, went the way of the delinquent RV.
Living Life Riverside
Welcome to the blog site for The Historic Riverside Hotel, located on the banks of the Colorado River in Hot Sulphur Springs, Co. This site will be an attempt to chronicle the SUR-REALITY that is now our daily existence - the good, the bad and the Boulder. This won't be a daily diary, rather, it will be a snapshot of significant events, memorable characters, historical footnotes and random happenings as we live our dream/nightmare as innkeepers in the wilds of Colorado.
For those who have stumbled on to this site who don't fall into the category of friends and family who already know the story, a little background. In December of 2007, my wife Julie and I purchased The Riverside, a 106-year old hotel, bar and restaurant located in the tiny town of Hot Sulphur Springs - smack in the middle of Middle Park, Grand County, CO. We quit good jobs, left behind family and friends in our lifelong home of Kansas City and moved into a slightly dilapidated, possibly haunted 16 room hotel with a 42-seat restaurant and an ornately carved wooden bar, complete with a brass foot rail - but no spittoon. We counted on our lives changing; we didn't count on the possibility of the worst economy in the last four billion years!, or our house in Kansas City sitting unsold a year into this deal, or our being unable to find sober help for any task in Grand County, or the myraid of other surprises that greet us on an almost daily basis.
So check in occasionaly to see what's happening and find out who's visiting as you join us in the experience of Living Life Riverside.
For those who have stumbled on to this site who don't fall into the category of friends and family who already know the story, a little background. In December of 2007, my wife Julie and I purchased The Riverside, a 106-year old hotel, bar and restaurant located in the tiny town of Hot Sulphur Springs - smack in the middle of Middle Park, Grand County, CO. We quit good jobs, left behind family and friends in our lifelong home of Kansas City and moved into a slightly dilapidated, possibly haunted 16 room hotel with a 42-seat restaurant and an ornately carved wooden bar, complete with a brass foot rail - but no spittoon. We counted on our lives changing; we didn't count on the possibility of the worst economy in the last four billion years!, or our house in Kansas City sitting unsold a year into this deal, or our being unable to find sober help for any task in Grand County, or the myraid of other surprises that greet us on an almost daily basis.
So check in occasionaly to see what's happening and find out who's visiting as you join us in the experience of Living Life Riverside.
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