In her complaint, Moroye doesn't ask for money, demanding only that she be returned to her old job in district court (Ritter transferred her to juvenile court, a move she viewed as a demotion). A few more demands are being made by the Asian Roundtable, which sent a contingent to meet with Ritter in July to press for an apology and a commitment to cultural sensitivity training. "Whenever those types of remarks are made, we have a very great concern about that kind of insensitivity," says public affairs committee chairwoman Sami D. Nakazono, who also heads Mayor Wellington Webb's Asian Advisory Council.
Ritter, who differs with Moroye on whether her transfer amounted to a demotion, says he apologized to the eight-year veteran on behalf of the office last month. Moroye declines to comment. But sources say Long's own attempt at an apology left her less than impressed. He reportedly said last month that he didn't even remember the incident--but that if it had happened, he was sorry.
The Moroye dispute isn't the only thing Long would like to forget. Last June an Adams County special prosecutor investigated an incident in which Long suffered two black eyes and a broken nose after struggling with a neighbor over a pellet gun. Long expressed fears that he might face criminal charges in the affair, which began when he escorted two neighborhood boys to their home after they shot at his home with the pellet gun.
Long and the man who punched him out were ultimately cleared, but the incident apparently sparked some soul-searching on the part of the prosecutor. "I just think I'm going to try to find some way of putting the fishing and floating and fun back in my life, which has been markedly absent in the last two years," Long told a reporter.
War is heck: It was just before midnight on September 30, 1991. Colorado's "limited-stakes" gaming would begin at 8 the next morning, and assorted ink-stained wretches had assembled in Central City to make sure they wouldn't miss a minute of the big story. In the meantime, of course, it was extremely important that they do some advance work--in Central City's bars. After several hours of intense investigative work, the scribes settled in Bob Brusco's Gilded Garter, where two commmenced to compare notes--on just who was the bigger hack. "You are," said the Rocky Mountain News's Bill Husted. "No, you are," replied the Denver Post's Dick Kreck.
Five years later the Gilded Garter is gone--and so is Brusco, who died mysteriously in Tucson. And Kreck and Husted are now alternating gossip columnists in the Post. Hack-to-hack, you could call it.
The joy of sox: Forget what Jesse Jackson and Oliver North had to say to each other at their first national faceoff in Denver two weeks ago. The real question, audience members wanted to know, was just what was written on moderator Peter Boyles's sox? From the cheap seats, all that was visible was an "I heart." The answer, he confessed, was "Dad"--the sox were a gift from his kids.
That, however, was nothing compared to the treacle contained in a new book by fellow yakker Ken Hamblin. In Pick a Better Country, Hamblin talks about the greatness of America and, not incidentally, the greatness of himself as he scuba dives, flies his own plane and rides his motorcycle across America. The book--its cover notes that it was written by "an unassuming colored guy"--also features a fan letter from then-president George Bush (which notes that it is "personal," presumably meaning it is not for publication) and a picture showing Hamblin's father, a New York City cop known as "Wahoo."
What a yahoo.
