My buddy Jeff is up visiting for the weekend, and having someone up here who doesn't get to see the Rockies every morning reminds me how bloody lucky I am, and how truly gorgeous it is up here. Despite a 3 1/2 hour delay, Jeff finally got in around 1 in the morning yesterday, and we got out for a terrific day of skiing today, with nary a cloud in the sky. They even had I-70 closed for a while, meaning that the President's Day onslaught was not as bad as I feared. That being said, we certainly got to see some of the stereotypical tourist crowd---the type that ski with their fur hood and Dior sunglasses. The amount of posturing and preening is pretty hysterical-much like a peacock, and the odd juxtaposition of the glamor shots with the laid back to a fault locals makes for some amusing chair lifts. On the subject of odd fashion choices, our hostess at dinner tonight was wearing leather pants. Unless I'm at an S and M club, I don't want to see you in leather pants, and certainly not at a nice restaurant. That, combined with our baked waiter named "Rife" only added to the amusement level. I must return to my futile attempts at digesting my ribeye....