Just got back from a long weekend in Colorado, of which I spent roughly 72 hours enjoying potent potables and 3 hours snowboarding. Thanks to a brutal tumble at the top of the mountain, I busted my ankle midway through day one and spent the rest of the weekend icing my injury and sipping JD.

Thanks to my injury, and the pneumonia/flu that knocked out 3 other guys, this trip was pretty tame with few interesting tales to share or scandalous pictures to spread around the web. Just a couple of salient points need to be made, however:

1. Gordon now firmly believes that he’s the world’s best skier, world’s best snowboarder, and People’s Sexiest Man Alive.
2. The only two black men on the mountain were in our group, although we’re not quite sure if Charles counts anymore. His parents are from Africa and I guess that’s not good enough to be considered black these days. We’re going to have to consult with Obama on this one. I don’t have the answer. We’re pretty sure Robinson is black, though. However, every time a black guy appeared in any movie we watched during the weekend, he thought it was Wesley Snipes. So Robinson is suspect, too.

I do have just a few pics to share, starting with this little gem from the “world famous” Wooden Nickel Saloon. Click for a larger view of the specialty drinks menu. I have no idea what a Goombay is, let alone a Goombay Smash – the first drink on the list – but the third drink on the list speaks for itself, and sounds scrumptrulescent. The other photo is included, well, just because.

The following two photos are part of a photo essay Buchs is compiling about his cousin (cousin by marriage; he asked that I stress this point with great vigor). The title of the photo essay is called “Proof”. Draw whatever meaning from this you wish. As it is intended as art, the viewer’s interpretation is as important to the piece as the content itself. It’s proof alright.

Finally, a couple of shots of the Cosmic Cruiser. I’ve never seen a truck for transporting sled dogs and I never would have imagined it would look like this: each dog confined to it’s own depressing cell with a hole big enough to stick its head out. They look like they’re being punished for witchcraft in 18th century New England. Why hasn’t this revolution in mass transport trickled down into the school bus industry yet?

On January 30th, the Reid boys went wild in the Philly ‘burbs. While Big Red was away, the little Reids went out to play. First, Garrett, 23, blew through a speed trap and, before the cops were able to catch up to pull him over, he plowed through a red light and t-boned another car, sending the 55-year old female driver to the hospital. And guess what else folks? He was doped up on heroin at the time!

In a completely unrelated incident, on the same day no less, his younger brother, Britt, 21, pointed a gun at another guy during a bout of drug-fueled road rage. (Are the boys getting a bulk discount from the same dealer?) This other guy managed to get Britt’s license plate and describe the gun to the police. Upon serving a search warrant, cops found a shotgun, ammo, “white residue”, and the aforementioned handgun. Garrett only faces misdemeanors somehow, while Britt is facing a slew of felony charges.

It took over a week, but the news finally went national after it dominated the front and back of both the Inquirer and the Daily News all of last week: Andy Reid has reportedly taken a leave of absence. I have a sneaking suspicion this is the first step toward a resignation. I see Big Red taking his family into seclusion for a few years, getting counseling with church elders, then coming out in the end 100% heterosexual and eventually finding new employment somewhere with a reduced media spotlight, like, say, Arizona, where football careers go to die.

When I asked my brother what he thought would happen if Reid quit, he summed it up pretty well: “Maybe we’ll get a coach that actually calls running plays and knows how to manage the clock in the final two minutes of a playoff game.” I guess you could say we won’t be broken up over it.