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Best Appearance by a Minister Stalking Miss America

Reverend David Meek

There she was, Miss America, visiting the Colorado Legislature for her cancer-awareness campaign. Reverend David Meek was back at the State Capitol on a mission from God -- to hand out a letter apologizing to any lawmakers he'd offended the week before, "Christian Greetings, Precious Lady Senators" -- when he heard that Katie Harmon, the former Miss Oregon, was in the building, and decided he'd like to have his picture taken with a really precious lady. But Miss America's handlers spirited her out of the Capitol before Meek could get too close. There she goes...

Best Appearance by a Minister Stalking Miss America

Reverend David Meek

There she was, Miss America, visiting the Colorado Legislature for her cancer-awareness campaign. Reverend David Meek was back at the State Capitol on a mission from God -- to hand out a letter apologizing to any lawmakers he'd offended the week before, "Christian Greetings, Precious Lady Senators" -- when he heard that Katie Harmon, the former Miss Oregon, was in the building, and decided he'd like to have his picture taken with a really precious lady. But Miss America's handlers spirited her out of the Capitol before Meek could get too close. There she goes...


The wife of Colorado's junior Republican senator, Wayne Allard, is her husband's greatest asset. She accompanies him to every one of the town meetings he holds each year in every one of Colorado's 64 counties, getting a feel for the serious issues even as she chats casually with constituents. And not only can Joan Allard save her husband's bacon, but she can fry it up in a pan: After Nebraska senator Ben Nelson, the loser in a CU-Nebraska-game bet, delivered a box of steaks to Senator Allard's office, Joan prepared "Colorado Peppered Nebraska Steak" -- a recipe she cooked up for the occasion -- for her husband's staff.
The wife of Colorado's junior Republican senator, Wayne Allard, is her husband's greatest asset. She accompanies him to every one of the town meetings he holds each year in every one of Colorado's 64 counties, getting a feel for the serious issues even as she chats casually with constituents. And not only can Joan Allard save her husband's bacon, but she can fry it up in a pan: After Nebraska senator Ben Nelson, the loser in a CU-Nebraska-game bet, delivered a box of steaks to Senator Allard's office, Joan prepared "Colorado Peppered Nebraska Steak" -- a recipe she cooked up for the occasion -- for her husband's staff.


Best Hometown Boy Made Good -- Even If He's Forgotten His Hometown

Karl Rove

Karl Rove has come a long way since his days as the fresh-from-Colorado head of the College Republicans in the early '70s. He made a critical connection during that early political stint: He met George W. Bush, whose father was in charge of the Republican Party. And when Dubya finally moved into the White House, he took Rove with him as an advisor, putting him right in the office previously occupied by Hillary Clinton. "Rove is President Bush's political Svengali, Robespierre and wizard all rolled into one," said an analyst with the Hudson Institute just six months after Rove hit town. But he's not much of a diplomat -- or a demographer. In hot water over a crack he made about a small New Hampshire town's intellectual capabilities, Rover told the Berlin Daily Sun: "Were I ever to belittle small-town America, I would have to do a lot of explaining to my friends and neighbors in Golden, Arvada and Kokomo, Colorado...the places where I grew up." He'd really have a lot of explaining to do in Kokomo: It was buried under a Climax Mine tailings pond over two decades ago.

Best Hometown Boy Made Good -- Even If He's Forgotten His Hometown

Karl Rove

Karl Rove has come a long way since his days as the fresh-from-Colorado head of the College Republicans in the early '70s. He made a critical connection during that early political stint: He met George W. Bush, whose father was in charge of the Republican Party. And when Dubya finally moved into the White House, he took Rove with him as an advisor, putting him right in the office previously occupied by Hillary Clinton. "Rove is President Bush's political Svengali, Robespierre and wizard all rolled into one," said an analyst with the Hudson Institute just six months after Rove hit town. But he's not much of a diplomat -- or a demographer. In hot water over a crack he made about a small New Hampshire town's intellectual capabilities, Rover told the Berlin Daily Sun: "Were I ever to belittle small-town America, I would have to do a lot of explaining to my friends and neighbors in Golden, Arvada and Kokomo, Colorado...the places where I grew up." He'd really have a lot of explaining to do in Kokomo: It was buried under a Climax Mine tailings pond over two decades ago.
Colorado voters probably wish that getting help from their elected representatives in the State Capitol was as easy as pushing a button. Unfortunately, things don't work that way. The lawmakers themselves, however, are always a mere arm's length from assistance -- at least when they are traveling up and down in the Statehouse's notoriously rickety elevators. Press the alarm button, and a signal automatically sounds at the fire department. In the meantime, another button with the words "Help is on the Way" lights up, assuring elevator riders that some things actually do get done in the Capitol.
Colorado voters probably wish that getting help from their elected representatives in the State Capitol was as easy as pushing a button. Unfortunately, things don't work that way. The lawmakers themselves, however, are always a mere arm's length from assistance -- at least when they are traveling up and down in the Statehouse's notoriously rickety elevators. Press the alarm button, and a signal automatically sounds at the fire department. In the meantime, another button with the words "Help is on the Way" lights up, assuring elevator riders that some things actually do get done in the Capitol.


When the boundaries of Colorado's new 7th Congressional district were announced, many people dubbed it the "Perlmutter district," assuming that state senator and popular Jefferson County Democrat Ed Perlmutter would leap at the chance to run for U.S. Congress. But those people didn't know Perlmutter's ten-year-old daughter, Zoe. When the legislator consulted his family about running for the seat, Zoe voted no, saying politics made her father "grumpy." That was all it took: Perlmutter won't be running. Nevertheless, as state Senate president, Perlmutter has made a heroic effort to get the legislature to pass laws that will guide growth in Colorado. And while those efforts weren't successful, Perlmutter has emerged as one of the most passionate advocates for Colorado's future. He may not be on his way to Washington, but we hope he'll play a role in Colorado's politics for years to come.
When the boundaries of Colorado's new 7th Congressional district were announced, many people dubbed it the "Perlmutter district," assuming that state senator and popular Jefferson County Democrat Ed Perlmutter would leap at the chance to run for U.S. Congress. But those people didn't know Perlmutter's ten-year-old daughter, Zoe. When the legislator consulted his family about running for the seat, Zoe voted no, saying politics made her father "grumpy." That was all it took: Perlmutter won't be running. Nevertheless, as state Senate president, Perlmutter has made a heroic effort to get the legislature to pass laws that will guide growth in Colorado. And while those efforts weren't successful, Perlmutter has emerged as one of the most passionate advocates for Colorado's future. He may not be on his way to Washington, but we hope he'll play a role in Colorado's politics for years to come.


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