Best Place to Watch Brown Palace Guests in Their Skivvies

The Trinity Building

Although employees of Burks Communications, a PR firm on the fourth floor of the Trinity Building, would just as soon the Brown Palace across the street tint its windows, they've had some fun over the years watching naked patrons of the chichi hotel get in and out of their unmentionables. "Butts at the Brown," says company president and CEO Susan Burks. "That's what I call it. We have the best view of butts. I think the men enjoy doing it the most. They keep those blinds open. I know they see us looking -- they can't miss us. But some of those men's bodies, I tell you..." Burks even calls her co-workers into the office for especially noteworthy rears. "I say, 'Come look, here's another one.'" Does she wish the Brown's male patrons would close their blinds? "In some cases," she says. "Not all."
Whew! Our temperature started rising the second we caught a glimpse of the 2001 Denver Metro Firefighter Calendar, a fundraising deal for the Children's Hospital Burn Center. And since it was such a good cause, we felt it was our duty to buy a couple of calendars to share with friends so we could all appreciate the sacrifices that local firefighters had made for charity. Why, some even gave the photographer the shirts off their backs! Although Denver's fire chief may have quibbled that it wasn't proper for the buff firefighters to pose so provocatively, these hotties sure got us going. Burn, baby, burn!
Whew! Our temperature started rising the second we caught a glimpse of the 2001 Denver Metro Firefighter Calendar, a fundraising deal for the Children's Hospital Burn Center. And since it was such a good cause, we felt it was our duty to buy a couple of calendars to share with friends so we could all appreciate the sacrifices that local firefighters had made for charity. Why, some even gave the photographer the shirts off their backs! Although Denver's fire chief may have quibbled that it wasn't proper for the buff firefighters to pose so provocatively, these hotties sure got us going. Burn, baby, burn!
Kids getting a little cranky on that long car ride? Stop by one of the three rest areas along the Colorado River just east of Glenwood Springs, and let them watch the rafters rushing by. If they're really antsy, tell them to walk along the river to the next rest stop, where you'll pick them up. Maybe.
Kids getting a little cranky on that long car ride? Stop by one of the three rest areas along the Colorado River just east of Glenwood Springs, and let them watch the rafters rushing by. If they're really antsy, tell them to walk along the river to the next rest stop, where you'll pick them up. Maybe.
It's not easy staying in touch with your state when it includes 63 (64, once Broomfield's up and running) counties that stretch over thousands of square miles. But Wayne Allard, the Republican veterinarian who's soon to complete his first term in the Senate, knows that it's important to make house calls. Every year since his 1996 election, he's made it a point to visit every county in Colorado to meet with his constituents. You could say he's driven.
It's not easy staying in touch with your state when it includes 63 (64, once Broomfield's up and running) counties that stretch over thousands of square miles. But Wayne Allard, the Republican veterinarian who's soon to complete his first term in the Senate, knows that it's important to make house calls. Every year since his 1996 election, he's made it a point to visit every county in Colorado to meet with his constituents. You could say he's driven.
When President Bill Clinton was inaugurated in 1993, Vail's Precision Lawn Chair Demonstration Team only got to perform at a warm-up event -- and Clinton was a party boy. But at George W. Bush's inauguration, the sixteen-year-old Vail troupe was front and center in the actual parade, sporting shorts in the frigid D.C. weather, twirling lawn chairs like batons and rating raves from the crowd. These boys don't take a back seat to anyone.

When President Bill Clinton was inaugurated in 1993, Vail's Precision Lawn Chair Demonstration Team only got to perform at a warm-up event -- and Clinton was a party boy. But at George W. Bush's inauguration, the sixteen-year-old Vail troupe was front and center in the actual parade, sporting shorts in the frigid D.C. weather, twirling lawn chairs like batons and rating raves from the crowd. These boys don't take a back seat to anyone.

Lee Casey wrote for the Rocky Mountain News in the early 1900s, back in the days when columnists were often far more interesting than the events they chronicled. Casey, for example, was so renowned for his peculiar behavior that he was rumored to be the model for the lead character in Harvey, Mary Chase's play about a fellow whose best friend is an imaginary, six-foot-tall rabbit. But it was in death that Casey's true eccentric nature emerged: He wanted his ashes interred within the walls of the Rocky Mountain News building. They were, and when the tabloid moved to fancy new digs on Colfax Avenue over a decade ago, Casey moved with the paper. Today his remains are still contained within the lobby walls, and there they will stay -- despite the fact that the building now bears a placard announcing that it's the home of the Denver Newspaper Agency, the managing entity of the joint operating agreement between the News and the Denver Post. Casey must be turning over in his you-know-what.

Best Of Denver®

Best Of