By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Missing in action: During Off Limits' annual Best of Denver hiatus, the usual suspects were up to their worst. The biggest news that wasn't fit to print: this photo of Denver Post columnist Chuck Green, scheduled to run alongside tales of his macho motorcycle alternative to Ride the Rockies. But after Green wiped out only 45 minutes into his adventure, the photo--already running on the Post's Web site--was scrapped, along with his hog and the rest of the series.
Also doing serious back-pedaling was Post business columnist Don Knox. On June 6, Knox congratulated himself for writing "what almost no one else will...defending the hard-to-defend--namely, Charlie Lyons." Knox wrote that the (now former) CEO of Ascent Entertainment Group--which owns the Denver Nuggets, the Colorado Avalanche and the Pepsi Center, complete with its Post-sponsored "Press Box"--didn't deserve the criticism he'd received for cutting himself a sweet deal in selling the company to Bill and Nancy Laurie: "The question is whether he cut a sweet deal for Ascent shareholders. The answer, unequivocally, is yes...It's generous, and you absolutely can defend it."
Until Tuesday, that is, when the once-fawning Knox joined the rest of the media now piling on Lyons, forced to resign after Ascent shareholders sued to stop the deal. His June 29 column was a mock letter from Lyons to US West honcho Sol Trujillo, who'd arranged his own sweet deal in the proposed sale of the Baby Bell to Global Crossing. "Either you do right for you or you do right for your shareholders," Knox/Lyons advised.
In the Rocky Mountain News last Sunday, historian Frances Melrose went to great lengths to clarify the spelling of famous cannibal Alfred Packer's first name. It's Alfred-rhymes-with-fed, which is what Packer was after he gobbled some snowbound companions. But only two days later, the News devoted its "Millennium Moment" to Packer--in which his first name was spelled "Alferd." Adding insult to injury was a copy editor's note inadvertently left in the story, confirming that "Alferd" was correct.
In his June 26 News story about problems with Ocean Journey's overloaded phone system, Gary Gerhardt reported that US West officials had advised the aquarium to upgrade its system--but the article didn't mention that the phone company had donated the system and fifteen years' worth of service in exchange for naming rights to what is officially US West Presents: Colorado's Ocean Journey. But then, the story also didn't disclose that the News is another major Ocean Journey backer.
Don't pee in the water: Even before it opened, Ocean Journey was so flooded with people wanting to donate their time that prospective volunteers must now get on a waiting list, where they'll languish at least another six months. With more than 700 volunteers already signed up (all of whom agreed to twenty hours of training and a background check, as well as a year-long commitment to work at least four hours a week), Ocean Journey has run out of its standard-issue green volunteer shirts.
But even as the aquarium's public-relations machine is assuring visitors that Ocean Journey treats its residents humanely, some volunteers are claiming that they're being treated worse than animals. "They don't allow us to go the bathroom or get a drink of water unless a supervisor approves," says one volunteer, who asked that her name not be used. "They make us stand for our entire four-hour shift without even one ten-minute break."
Those green shirts aren't the only way to identify volunteers, says this disgruntled worker. At the end of every shift, they can also be recognized by their hunched backs, stiff necks, sore feet and full bladders. "I got chewed out just the other day for going to the bathroom," she says. "We really love the fish and really love our jobs, but we're not being treated like people. We've been complaining for two weeks, and they won't do anything about it."
"That's incorrect," responds George Lindstrom, Ocean Journey's human resources manager. "Anyone can take a bathroom break whenever they need one. If something like that comes up or something comes up that is of an urgency nature, there is a hand signal the volunteers can use to alert a supervisor."
But the signals--designed to look like a shark or an otter, depending on the position of the fingers and thumb--are hard to deliver when "you only see your supervisor once during a four-hour shift," the volunteer says. If nothing changes by the week of July 19, she adds, dozens of volunteers will stage a sick-out.
Lindstrom says he spent part of Tuesday unsuccessfully trying to track down the problem. "I won't tell you we don't screw up," he says, "but she should say something to her supervisor first. We've only been open two weeks. If we made a mistake, we will fix it."
Media critics of the month: Hundreds of area Kiwanis Club members are still steaming over the lack of media coverage during their 84th international convention, held June 18 to 22 in Denver, when other, smaller confabs--say, the National Rifle Association's annual meeting in May, or Henry Lyons's Baptist gathering in September 1997--made plenty of headlines.