(July 5, 2014 - Archived)  Frozen Dead Guy Days 

Back to HaydnGrey.com

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the now defunct Naked Pumpkin Run in Boulder, Colorado, the setting of my novel, Profile. Something about the quirky nature of that event made me think of another even quirkier event.

It’s not mentioned in Profile. It doesn’t even take place in Boulder.

Get over it.

It happens in Nederland, Colorado, about a half hour drive west of Boulder, up into the mountains. It’s called Frozen Dead Guy Days. The festival celebrates a corpse kept frozen in a Tuff Shed for the last twenty-five years. Because, well, it’s Nederland, Colorado.

It all makes perfect sense once you hear the story. (Yeah, right.)

The frozen dead guy is Norwegian Bredo Morstøl, brought to America after his death by his grandson, Trygve Bauge in 1989. He made the trip to America packed in dry ice, but was then stored in liquid nitrogen in a cryonics facility in California.

In 1993, Trygve, being quite the entrepreneur, packed his grandfather in dry ice again and brought him to Colorado with the hopes of starting his own cryonics business. Bredo was stored in a shack behind the unfinished house of his daughter, Aud, Trygve’s mother. Trygve, however, wasn’t able to see his dream come to fruition as he overstayed his visa and was deported back to Norway.

His dream, and Bredo’s future life, was now in Aud’s hands.

Aud’s house remained unfinished, and as a result, she was evicted for being in violation of local ordinances prohibiting residents from living in houses without plumbing or electricity. Yes, it was that unfinished!

Fearful of what that would mean for her father’s frozen corpse, Aud pleaded her case to a local reporter, who then took it up with city hall. One might think that it would be against the law to keep “the whole or any part of the person, body or carcass of a human being or animal or other biological species which is not alive upon any property.” But since there actually was no law on the books to that effect, they created one.

However, because of all the publicity that resulted around this case, they made an exception for Bredo, a grandfather clause.

Yes, a grandfather clause that actually applied to a literal grandfather.

In 1995, a local Tuff Shed supplier teamed up with a local radio station and built Bredo a new final resting place, and a caretaker was contracted to keep him packed in dry ice. And being Nederland, Colorado, an annual festival has been celebrated in Bredo’s honor since 2002.

Observed on the first full weekend in March, Frozen Dead Guy Days includes tours of the Tuff Shed where Bredo’s body is still kept at -60 degrees Fahrenheit. Festivities also include a polar plunge, which usually necessitates breaking through the ice to get to the water, a dance, called “Grandpa’s Blue Ball,” coffin races, a slow-motion parade, and a Frozen Dead Guy lookalike contest.

They don’t call us Colorful Colorado for nuthin’.

(June 28, 2014 - Archived)  The Flatirons 

Back to HaydnGrey.com

In my novel Profile, my character Arden Chase, a resident of Boulder, Colorado, mentions the Flatirons several times. They’re rock formations, but what exactly do they look like?

Depends on where you’re standing. Looking at them straight on, it can be difficult to distinguish them from the mountain that they are considered a part of, Green Mountain. To appreciate their unique features, you have to view them from an angle.

Now, I know most of you come here to enjoy the delights of my clever prose and my sardonic wit. So let’s just get this sciency stuff out of the way.

According to Wikipedia:

The Flatirons consist of conglomeratic sandstone of the Fountain Formation. Geologists estimate the age of these rocks as 290 to 296 million years; they were lifted and tilted into their present orientation between 35 and 80 million years ago, during the Laramide Orogeny. The Flatirons were subsequently exposed by erosion. Other manifestations of the Fountain Formation can be found in many places along the Colorado Front Range, including Garden of the Gods near Colorado Springs, Roxborough State Park in Douglas County, and Red Rocks Amphitheatre near Morrison.

What does all that mean? How the hell should I know? I’m a fiction writer, not a rock scientist. Suffice to say they’re old, they’re rocks, and there are other examples of them besides Boulder.

Wikipedia mentioned Garden of the Gods and Roxborough State Park, both of which I’ve hiked in. I’ve also been to Red Rocks Amphitheatre several times. Not to hike, but any of you who have been there know what a hike (and climb) it is to get from the parking lots to the amphitheatre itself. Wear good, comfortable shoes and be really sure that the concert you’re going to see is worth it. (The Beatles played there in 1964. That one would have been worth it, but I was only five at the time.)

Anyway, back to the Flatirons. They, along with these other formations, began forming long ago, when the Rocky Mountains were little more than a twinkle in the great inland sea. Numerous marine fossils have been found on these rocks which once formed the seabed. But as the seas retreated and one tectonic plate slid under another, it forced the seabed to turn upward, eventually resulting in the diagonal slabs of sandstone known as the Flatirons.

The majority of the people who visit the Flatirons close-up, though, don’t care how or when they formed. They’re just there to climb on them. That’s right, since the Flatirons are part of the City of Boulder Open Space and Mountain Parks system, they’re popular destinations for hikers and rock climbers.

Arden, like me, was more of a computer jockey than an adrenaline junky. He never climbed the Flatirons, but he (and I) hiked near them in Chautauqua Park. In this area, the Flatirons are so universally recognized that the word and the image are included in countless company names and logos. So it just seemed to make sense to refer to them in a story that was set here.

They truly are eye-catching formations. For those of you who can’t make it out here to see them, there’s actually a web cam that shows views of the Flatirons throughout the day, and even assembles them into a time lapse video.

Almost like being here, huh?

(June 21, 2014 - Archived)  Naked Pumpkin Run 

Back to HaydnGrey.com

In my novel Profile, I mentioned some of the attractions of Boulder, Colorado, the home of my character, Arden Chase:

I lived in Boulder, proudly described locally as ‘twenty-five square miles surrounded by reality.’ It was a popular destination for hippies in the sixties, and that free-spirit mentality has been a part of Boulder culture ever since then. Situated right at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, it’s the site of various athletic events and music festivals, as well as such refined affairs as the Polar Bear Plunge and the Naked Pumpkin Run.

Profile is a work of fiction, but the information in this paragraph is true, including the part that sounds the most like something that was made up.

The Naked Pumpkin Run has taken place in Seattle, Washington, Portland, Oregon and Arcata, California. But Boulder, Colorado has the distinction of being the proud birthplace of this event. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, Boulder “has always taken pride in its liberal-to-the-point-of-loony reputation.”

That liberal looniness has long included clothing-optional events. Back in 1974, hundreds of University of Colorado students ran naked across campus to try to set a Guinness world record. (They didn’t.)

Starting in 1998, the Naked Pumpkin Run began, and it’s just what it sounds like. Late on Halloween night, dozens of people made a run through downtown Boulder, wearing nothing but running shoes on their feet and a carved pumpkin on their heads.

Who would have thought that taking off your clothes and running through town on a cold night, wearing a heavy, smelly pumpkin shell over your head, in front of hundreds of spectators would become so popular? But it was an event that was tailor-made for Boulder. In 2008, more than 150 people participated.

Those less liberal-minded in the population took notice. So on Halloween of 2009, the police issued a warning that more than forty police officers would be stationed along the route, and even two SWAT teams nearby. One would assume the SWAT teams would be in case any of the runners were carrying concealed weapons. The police were ordered to arrest any naked runners and charge them as sex offenders.

This was kind of a sticky stance, because being naked in downtown Boulder is not a crime. Nudity has had a place in Boulder for quite a long time. Besides the aforementioned UC Boulder Guinness attempt, Boulder has also hosted a Naked Bike Ride to encourage freedom from fossil fuels.

Since there’s no law against nudity in Boulder, the police instead made use of Colorado’s indecent exposure statute. Under this law, it was a misdemeanor to expose one’s genitals under circumstances that were “likely to cause affront or alarm.”

According to the Wall Street Journal article, “given that the Naked Pumpkin Run starts at 11 p.m., long after young trick-or-treaters have retired, and given that the route is packed with fans who come out specifically to see the event, runners argue that it's absurd to think their prank is causing either affront or alarm.”

Participants, who included professional people like lawyers and scientists, were understandably fearful of being labeled sex offenders. So nobody showed up. Boulder’s Naked Pumpkin Run is now a thing of the past.

Boulder no longer allows people to run or ride a bicycle naked. Boulder still proclaims itself “twenty-five square miles surrounded by reality.” But their liberal lunacy is now a little more conservative.

(June 8, 2014 - Archived)  Poke Me! 

Back to HaydnGrey.com

Have you ever been poked?

Oh stop it! I’m talking about Facebook pokes, one of the more obscure and misunderstood features of the social networking site. You get a notice that one of your friends poked you, and you have the option of poking them back. Facebook is also nice enough to provide suggestions of other people you could poke, if you were so inclined.

I’ve never initiated a poke, but I have returned them. Sometimes. More on that later.

First, what the hell is it?

I’ve seen numerous status updates of people asking what a Facebook poke means. The responses cover a range similar to those found at the web site socialnetworking.lovetoknow.com:

• Just to say a quick "hello"
• To remind someone that you're waiting on a reply or message from him or her
• To check in and see if a person has visited Facebook lately
• To let someone know you're thinking of him or her
• Just for fun

In some Facebook circles, though, the poke takes on a bit more of a sexual connotation, with messages posted similar to, “Oh yeah, poke me, baby!” I’ve seen memes posted with milestone numbers such as 200 pokes, 500 pokes, etc., occasionally including the names of the people involved in the pokefest.

In my novel Profile, Arden Chase said this about Facebook pokes:

Now I never understood the point of a Facebook poke. It seemed to me like a “hello,” but without all the commitment, a greeting for people who don’t want to go to the trouble of actually connecting with another person.

Since Arden is essentially an autobiographical character, that’s basically my thought about the Facebook poke. If you want to contact someone, why not just say something? “Hi.” “What are you up to?” But I guess sometimes we just want to make a quick, noncommittal contact with someone without taking the time to actually say anything.

Still, I can’t really get past the sexual connotation. And that’s never more discernible to me than when I receive pokes from male friends.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I just don’t swing that way. So on those rare occasions that I receive a poke from a male friend, I don’t return it.

No offense.

(June 1, 2014 - Archived)  Trust me. I'm on Facebook 

Back to HaydnGrey.com

Okay, this one might look familiar to you, if you've been a faithful follower of Grey Matters since its inception. I decided it was time to get the original blog posts uploaded to the new home of Grey Matters. Once I started using this outside site for the blog, the original posts at my web site were no longer accessible. Granted, there aren't a lot of them, but it's important stuff.

And it takes time, so I'm wimping out this week. I'll have a new blog post next week. Until then, relive the glory of the first few installments of Grey Matters. And feel free to leave your comments about them, something you weren't able to do before. Starting with the first entry:

If you’re on Facebook, chances are you’re friends with lots of people you’ve never met.

I know, duh.

But do you know the names of all your friends? I’m not talking about the name they go by on Facebook. I mean their real name.

I don’t mean to shock you, but I’m betting that Bill’s last name isn’t really Luvs2ski. Really, though, that’s no big deal. Everybody knows that it’s a made-up name.

But what about that friend you’ve never met with a common-sounding name?

Over the years, people in general have become much more savvy about their online business. But surprisingly, it’s still not that uncommon to hear about some poor sap who trusted someone he shouldn’t have, and ended up being taken for a financial ride.

The thing is the terminology employed by Facebook tends to breed trust. Facebook users have “friends.” You can trust your friends, right?

When I first got the idea for Profile, I didn’t want the story to get lost amid unrealistic details. I wanted to see how easy it was to actually create and maintain a fake Facebook identity.

The answer, it turned out, is “Pretty damn easy!”

I won’t devote space here to how I did it. Buy the book. The way Arden Chase went about it is pretty much what I did.

While his fake identity in the book is Augustine Smith, mine was Pennington Clark. As “Penn,” I created a persona, complete with backstory, and I began interacting with my new “friends.” His voice was pretty much my own, as was much of his story, which probably helped to make it come across as genuine to most people.

I say “most” people, because there was one person with whom I was chatting who thought something wasn’t quite right. She wanted proof that I was who I said I was. I went along with it for a while because I wanted to establish Penn as a real person, and I didn’t want to raise any more red flags.

This was research!

Well, I unfriended her first chance I got. But what I learned from her about the “Location” feature when using the Facebook app on a cell phone was useful in that it found its way into the story.

Of course that feature also has its weaknesses. There are ways around it. Turns out I was safe from her finding out my true identity. I just didn’t realize it at the time.

But you can bet that there are plenty of scammers out there who do realize and make use of all of Facebook’s weaknesses.

Some create fake Facebook profiles of people you actually do know. That way, when your friend contacts you and says they’ve had some trouble and need cash, you might be more willing to help out.

And since we are certain that everybody must be fascinated by every facet of our lives, we post everything on Facebook. So anybody who follows you knows when you’re on vacation, or even at that favorite restaurant of yours. And depending on how much personal information you put into your profile, or what features you have enabled on your phone, they may know what town you live in, what part of town, possibly even your exact address, complete with a map.

Don’t get me wrong. I love interacting with my friends on Facebook. It’s a great way to connect with people you know, and even to get to know new people. Its features, which change more frequently than some of us like, are powerful, and even helpful if used wisely.

Technology has advanced faster than some of us geezers care to keep up with. You can bet, though, that the scammers have kept up with it. So how do you protect yourself?

Interestingly, the advice hasn’t really changed much since the inception of the e-mail scam, or of the telephone scam.

Use your head!

It’s that simple, really. Be careful about how much information you share concerning certain sensitive things. Check your settings to determine who can see what you post. And if someone asks you for money, just say no. Or at least check it out to determine whether or not it’s valid.

Or course, it could be a writer trying to sell you a really great novel. In that case, it’s okay.

Really. You can trust me. I’m on Facebook.

Cheesy Love Lines (or How NOT to make a woman fall head over heels)

In my novel, Profile, one of the characters received a card with the following line written on it:

Your legs must be tired, because you’re constantly running through my mind!

Yes, it’s cheesy. That was the point. And having heard tons of cheesy come-ons and pickup lines, I decided to see how many I could find. (This list is not meant to be exhaustive or all-inclusive. It’s meant to fill up space since I’m supposed to write a blog post every week.)

A cursory internet search turned up this gem:

Letters start with ABC, numbers start with 123, music starts with DO-RE-MI, love starts with YOU and ME!!

Not quite as clever as I was hoping for, but definitely cheesy! I could grill up a nice sandwich with that one.

Here’s one that was just too cute, kind of like the one in Profile:

Let me tie your shoes for you, because I don't want you falling for anyone else.

Or this one:

I don't have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?

Ladies, let me just point out that anybody who doesn’t have a library card is not worth your time. Move along.

I stumbled across this one, for the computer age:

We go together like copy and paste.

Cute, kind of cheesy, definitely techie, but I moved on. And I found this one which set my teeth on edge:

If I could rewrite the alphabet, I would put U and I together.

Yes, I admit it, I’m a grammar Nazi. So using you (or “U”) and I when it should be you and me, well yes, it’s cheesy, but in my mind it loses points for improper grammar.

I'm new in town. Could I have directions to your apartment?

Cheesy? Absolutely. The person using this line could have season tickets for the Green Bay Packers.

Is your father a terrorist? Because you’re the bomb.

Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?

Are you a parking ticket, because you’ve got fine written all over you?

For some reason, I’m seeing a guy with his shiny polyester shirt unbuttoned below his solar plexus, gold chains sharing space with his chest hair, uttering these lines with one eyebrow cocked. Ladies, if you’re swept off your feet by these lines, you’re on your own. You deserve each other.

How about this little collection:

You’re like my asthma, you take my breath away.

You’re like dandruff; I can’t get you out of my head.

You’re like my car, you drive me crazy.

You’re like dentures, I can’t smile without you.

Considering the apparent health of the person saying these lines, a woman who falls for any of them should make sure that the person uttering them is rich, and that he includes her in a generous prenup! Cheese factor – get the macaroni!

Okay, I’m going to call it quits. It’s not that I’ve run out of them. I just can’t keep looking at them. And the smell of cheese is overpowering!

Back to my web site

It’s Just a Structure

In my novel, Profile, JuleighAnn Harper lives in a house on a lake in a western suburb of Denver. That house and setting are meaningful in that I myself lived in a very similar place when I started writing Profile. In fact, when I wrote any scene involving that setting, I envisioned my own situation – the location of the rooms, the deck, the view, the wildlife.

Alas, my situation did not last. My wife and I divorced (no, she wasn’t Evelyn), and I moved out. Since then, my attitude about it closely resembles Arden’s. In the as yet unpublished follow-up to Profile, Arden and JuleighAnn, though not the main characters, do make a few appearances. In one of those scenes, Arden comments on his situation:

Well, yeah, it’s nice. But it’s just a structure. Yes, it’s a lovely house in a beautiful location, but that’s not what makes it home.

I had expressed a similar viewpoint to my wife before we moved into that house. We lived in a simple brick ranch home in a quiet neighborhood. She loved the house, and while I thought it was a fine house too, she couldn’t understand how I could be so blasé about it. It was a nice place, but it was just a structure.

My attitude didn’t change when we moved into the lake house. It was an even nicer house, in a nicer location, with a killer view! But still, it was just a structure. Do I miss it? Absolutely. I miss the house, the location, the view, the wildlife. But it had never really become home to me.

When I write about it now, both in the follow-up novel 1684, and in my as yet unnamed work in progress, it seems to me more like home with Arden and JuleighAnn in it than it ever did for me. Which I admit is sad in a way, but at the same time, it feels good seeing that place now as a real home to characters I love.

**********

I’ve taken a big step. Well, for me anyway. I’ve decided to capitalize on capitalism. I’ve opened a CafePress store. That’s right! Now you can spend your hard-earned money to own things with my name on it.

Be the envy of your neighbors by sporting a T-shirt that provides free advertising for me, your favorite author. Make your coffee taste just a little more snarky by drinking it from a Haydn Grey mug. Hang your keys on a Haydn Grey keychain because, well, I don’t know why. Why not?

All the items available are competitively priced. In fact, you won’t find a cheaper price on Haydn Grey merchandise at any other store. The more you buy, the more you get!

And if you act now, it will be shipped to you that much sooner!

Happy shopping!

Haydn Grey Stuff