View from the top of Aspen Mountain

I opened the tailgate and, once again, unloaded the car to prepare for the slopes as Tucker chatted away and people on their way to work smiled and commented.

That is the beauty of the town of Aspen, store owners, employees, families, shoppers and tourists alike all share one common thread, our love for the outdoors and for Ajax Mountain that sits as our idol, a proud centerpiece in town, with skiers gliding down majestic slopes, the spray from their skis glittering invitingly in the wake of their turns.

The boys gleefully stomped their way to the gondola, passing the casually dressed lawyers and the beautifully dressed old world locals and Europeans alongside the not so beautifully dressed Nouveau Riche, who wear their stiletto boots with pride as they navigate the snowy streets and whose tight pants are congruent with their cosmetically altered faces.

The boys ignore their disheveled, overly caffeinated mom behind them,  burdened with ski and blogging equipment.

The thought has occurred to me that I could leave my voice recorder and 35mm camera at home, but I wouldn’t want to have to rely upon my incredibly dysfunctional brain to remember everything.

As we get on the gondola, I exhale a huge sigh of relief, thankful for the four mountains we have to play on over spring break and ready to take on my large posse of boys.

Aspen Mountain looming over town in the summertime.

Photo from the official Aspen Snowmass 2009 Vacation Planner

I picked the boys up from school and we headed up to Snowmass for the Mardi Gras celebration.

As we ran up the hill from the car we were amazed at the skiers leaving who were so draped in beads I worried that there were none left for the boys. Getting closer we were forewarned by other moms of the aggressive  crowd who seemed to be going for the gold by catching as many of the 24,000 beads as they could. It was all about quantity.

I just love when the energy of an event gets me so excited that I can hardly stand myself and the mall for “Fat Tuesday” was pulsing with adults and children alike who were drowning in  strands of beads and as we approached we got hit with  bead fever.

People were behaving as if forbidden jewels from a Pirate’s treasure chest were being tossed freely into the air. We feared that if we didn’t learn the art of capturing the attention of the bead throwers we would be left naked and penniless.

As the Basalt Dance Troupe shimmied along in the parade I had that same feeling that I always have when I see young girls dancing, envy. I  always wanted to be a dancer when I was younger but the programs were always dull with old ninnies teaching the classes and bad music. Who knows where I would be today if there were the likes of Jayne Gottlieb teaching hip hop in my home town, probably right here typing away at my computer with my split toe Bosch shoes on which, come to think of it, I need to wear more often.

At the end of the day, the boys devoured delicious pizza at Long Fellows and they weren’t even embarrassed when I realized that I had forgotten my wallet at home, I guess their getting use to having a scatter-brain for a mother.

Once again the kindness of the locals amazed me as they let my starving children eat and handed me an IOU to pay them back later.

We then walked down Fanny Hill to ride back up on the Skittles Gondola, Tucker’s favorite. As the boys scampered down, I slowly made my way in the warm afternoon light absorbing the beautiful surrounding views and breathed a very happy sigh.

On the way back up a man from Bali got into the gondola wanting to know where and why the boys had gotten all of the beads. He had left his beautiful country and his ten year old daughter behind to try and make a life for himself in America. With a big smile on his face he watched the boys and all of their energy and I watched him, wondering if life working in a kitchen in Snowmass was better than being with his family at home.

When we were leaving the apres-ski parties were just beginning and I couldn’t help but notice that I was walking right by a Jagermeister party at the Blue Door and I felt a deep pang that evaporated quicker than they used to.

The boys went to sleep staring at their beads and the next day showed off their new wealth to all of their friends at school.

Even though I couldn’t help but wish that I had been able to haul my boys all the way to New Orleans to celebrate in real cajun style, Snowmass did not disappoint!

“OMMMMMMMM”

What a smile!!!

I’m sure I know the daddy but can’t place him

The Basalt Dance Troupe

The Glenwood Springs Marching Band

Nothing like a little Brazilian color

In the year 2010, I have changed the name of my blog from isdisnormal.com to AspenRealLife.com. Now that you know all about me and my family it is time to introduce you to our experiences as we travel around Colorado in search of the best adventures, the most interesting people and the most professional establishments.

For me traveling is all about the people and cultures I meet, and I have decided to seek them out right here in my backyard and share their charm and magnificence with you for it is not only the beautiful nature that surrounds us that makes Colorado a dream world to live in but it is also the people who migrate here that add the spice and entertainment to resort town living.

Have fun reading about all that makes small town living so incredible and be sure to check out the links to the outstanding local entrepreneurs that I have found along the way.

If you would like to Advertise on my site, please feel free to contact me at isdisnormal@gmail.com.