One week in. Settling in at work, and just yesterday I moved from a hotel to an actual apartment, so now it really feels like I live in Boulder. I guess I do. Holy Shit! Today was my first day off since arrival in Colorado, and I spent it walking around and exploring (and locating this free wireless internet access point). I was here in Boulder a month ago for the interview, and our friends Bill & Lauren showed us around, but the weather was uncharacteristically poor and we were pressed for time to boot, so everything kind of flew by. Today, I have been experiencing Boulder the way one is supposed to: slowly, thoughtfully and roasting under a mountain sun.

After spending $80 at the Whole Foods and having precious little in my fridge to show for it, I took comfort in the fact that I now have organic pasta, organic sauce, organic tomatoes, and some goddamned SPF 9,000 suntan lotion, with which to battle the Colorado sunshine. Then I watched the day's stage of the Tour de France. Then I toured the local bike shops, of which there are many and they are all very good. Most of them have old bikes and jerseys hanging from the rafters of the shops, and sadly these are the exact same bikes I used to ride and covet when I was younger and faster and riding competitively. I am very excited to be living in what is most definitely the road cycling Mecca of the United States, and I think a new bike is in my future. In the meantime, my friend Lauren has graciously arranged for her friend to graciously loan me his mountain bike until I obtain other wheels of my own. I hope to pick that up tomorrow and roam a bit more.

The glider towplanes put on a show every so often, diving back to the pattern after yet another glider tow to altitude, and I watch every one. I will get over to the airport soon for a little dual instruction in one of their planes. It will be strange to be a renter again, but it will also be cheaper...

Some other thoughts:

Hippies have become my new pets. They are everywhere here, running around with their hair and their tea and their outfit (note the singular), and I just get the biggest kick out of them now. At first blush they appear threatening, what with the smell and the seeming lack of all rational thought, but then you realize that they are harmless, like Garter Snakes.

Crocs are stupid. If you don't know what these are, it's because they have fittingly not reached your part of the woods yet. They are ugly, stupid sandals that everyone seems to wear around here when they aren't wearing their Birkenstocks. They appear to be made out of a flammable plastic, and I think one night if I have too many beers I may conduct some live experiments to determine this.

Oh, and by the way, I have a news flash: the Grateful Dead still SUCK MAJOR ASS.

There is nothing worse than a hippie family with a baby in a restaurant. I thought it was bad observing the spoiled wasp progeny run rampant around a nice restaurant in New York City, but you ain't seen nothing until you've sat in a lovely brewpub, enjoying your beer and chili-burger when all of a sudden some annoying tattooed teva-wearing family rolls in with their all-terrain stroller loaded with annoying sensitively-raised cargo. It didn't take long for these people to allow the little hippie worm crawl all over the place as they smiled with wonderment. The parents just laugh and laugh whenever the child screams, or cries, or crawls or does any one of a thousand other unacceptable things to do when in a public place.

But man, is the beer good. And the scenery. And the people. And the bookstores. I'm happy.