No one is sightseeing. But if they tried, they'd find that behind a thick swatch of weeds, the low water of the creek is muddy and almost stagnant until it comes to a mini-waterfall of smooth gray stones that match the steel of the office building behind them.
Pulaski Park, with its neatly mowed lawn, playground and the courts of Gates Tennis Center behind it, is nearly empty. There's one girl there, sitting on a blanket in the exact center of the park with two miniature dogs while she talks incessantly on her cell phone. The playground is empty until two kids run up with their mom trailing behind them. The mother falls heavily onto a swing while the excited kids chatter on, bouncing and flailing arms as they talk. In City of Karmiel (Denver's sister city in Israel) Park next to the mall, an older couple and their grown son pass by, carrying shopping bags from Cherry Creek. "Did you know Denver has the most parks of any city?" one says.
A few blocks east, at the intersection of Alameda and Colorado Boulevard, is another one: D.C. Burns Park. It's deserted save for a lone shirtless man who talks to himself and a cell phone alternately before disappearing behind an arch-shaped, untitled sculpture by Angelo di Benedetto. The park has several modern sculptures, but — having been erected in 1968 — whatever boldness the red pyramids and loops once possessed has come to look worn and faded. — Jessica Centers
Red Rocks parking lot
11 p.m.
I'm walking down the ramp after the Steely Dan show and, clearly, my fellow concert-goers want to keep the party poppin'. "Why waste a good buzz, right?" quips self-proclaimed Steely Dan super-fan Ken, passing me a beer.
It's not quite as wild and free as the old Deadhead parking-lot fiestas, but it's in the ballpark, with a hint of the familial atmosphere that made the Grateful Dead after-show scene so enjoyable back when Jerry was still alive and kicking. The Steely heads keep the libations, kindness and merriment flowing for this impromptu session under the stars, and it's as much fun as the show itself, but in a very different, smaller-scale, laid-back way.
Kathy, a businesswoman from Oklahoma City, tells me about how she made up an excuse for a business trip to Denver so she could catch the gig. "There's just something about Red Rocks and Denver that makes seeing shows out here special," she says. "Take right now, for instance. Back home, when a show ends, everyone is rushed into their cars and off the premises right away. There's no after-scene in the parking area or anything like here. This is a freakin' blast! All different kinds of people from all different kinds of backgrounds just hanging out, sharing what we got and being cool to each other." — Jas Tynan
