Denver News Blog

On innumerable occasions, I've tried to enjoy baklava and managed not to do so, always finding it too sweet or too sticky or too spiked with rosewater, too goopy or too stiff. Finally, I'd gotten to the point where I'd assumed baklava was just not to my taste -- like celery, roasted eggplant and pad thai -- and had simply stopped ordering it. But then I tasted this baklava...

That's an excerpt from my review of Ya Hala, the Syrian restaurant (pictured above) that's inspired a new obsession that has me rolling out at all hours, cruising the mean street of South Colorado looking for my fix of honey, walnuts and phylo. My counters are now crowded with empty take-out boxes, my fingers sticky with sugar. My name is Jason Sheehan, and I am a baklava addict.

You can check out the rest of the Ya Hala -- plus a pretty cool Bite Me column in which I compare Julia Roberts' acting career to a dead chicken) --- in this week's issue, coming soon to a newsstand (or computer) near you. -- Jason Sheehan

Hugh Grant wears a cape, and Cat knew immediately that she would cotton to anyone who wears a cape. But then she got the director of the Kirkland Museum of Fine & Decorative Art on the phone, and now she has a bit of an intellectual crush on him. He's smart, he's a music historian, he's on the board of Opera Colorado, he wrote a ballet for Colorado Ballet that won an Emmy, and he wears a cape. A very storied cape. A cape that Vance Kirkland himself once wore. What's not to love?

"It was made by Winifred Leahy, who you wouldn't know unless you're about eighty," says Grant, laughing. "She was well known in the '40s and '50s in Denver, and she was the director of the fittings department for Montaldo's department store and Denver Dry Goods Co. in Cherry Creek. She became a friend of Robert Weaver, who was the manager of the big classical music store, Music For All, for 25 years, and he wanted something to wear to the opening of the Denver Symphony. So Winifred made him this gorgeous cape. It's not something you'd rent in a Halloween store. It's this incredible navy blue wool flannel material, and it has a plum satin lining with a collar."

How did it get passed down to Grant so that he could continue the tradition of dapper, cultured men sporting a cape? There's some beautiful symmetry to the story.

It felt traitorous to vote early. I'd never done so before, partly because it always seemed rather undignified to fill out a ballot at the same place I'd buy broccoli, but also because I was loyal to my old polling place, located in a rehab center where the residents considered election day a major holiday. And November 2, 2004, was better than Christmas, what with an hours-long line of would-be voters stretching up and down the fluorescent hall, past the physical therapy rooms and the dining areas serving up Jell-O.

A dozen years ago, when I moved to the edge of Highland, the first people I got to know were those who voted early -- and by that I mean 7 a.m. on election day, not exactly eight days before the polling places officially close.

The Prestige, a Christopher Nolan-directed flick about turn-of-the-century magicians that stars Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale, has received generally positive reviews from critics at area publications, including Westword; to read Scott Foundas' take, click here. Somehow, though, such scribes have only made passing reference to the large chunk of the action that takes place in Colorado Springs. Likewise, they haven't contrasted the fictionalized version of scientist Nikola Tesla, portrayed by David Bowie, with the genuine item, who actually lived in the Springs during the period dramatized in the film. Getting too specific about the plot will cause the yarn to snag. But suffice it to say that Jackman's character, who holds a grudge against a rival magic man played by Bale, travels from England to Colorado Springs. There he asks Tesla, who's been working on assorted electrical experiments, to create a machine for a trick known as the "transporting man." At first, Tesla's contraption seems like a flop -- but the magician subsequently discovers that it works far better than anyone could have expected. The device catapults him to fame even as it sets into motion the deadly consequences that conclude the tale.

The scenery in the Colorado sequences looks authentic for a reason. As revealed in this April article from the Glenwood Springs Post Independent, segments were shot near the Redstone Castle and assorted locations near the community of Marble. Likewise, a scene in which Tesla causes lamps spread across a field to suddenly illuminate without the assistance of wires was inspired by an actual event.

The sky continues to be the limit for Captain Energy Dan Mayer (pictured), the energy-drink guru-cum-reviewer-cum-designer whose August profile in Westword can be found here. The Associated Press recently penned a piece about the rise in popularity of energy drinks and their potential danger to youngsters who suck the sugary swill down by the caseful -- and who else but Dan the Man should appear in the article, discussing the trend and offering up drink reviews of the sort that can be found on his website. The Denver Post printed the article on the front of the Monday, October 30th issue -- complete with a picture of Dan on an inside page -- and the Rocky ran a truncated version of report as well. But by far the biggest exposure Dan received from the AP piece was Yahoo! picking it up and making it one of the top six stories on its site the previous day. Millions around the world logged on to check their e-mail Sunday night only to be greeted by Dan Mayer, arguably one of the top energy drink experts in the world.

"It started last night and the traffic has been through the roof," Mayer says of the recent buzz. "I've got five times the normal traffic on my website right now. I'm actually afraid to go to my server because I don't want to even give it one more hit to deal with."

And as for a planned collaboration with Damon Lawner, a Los Angeles-based entrepreneur willing to back an energy drink of Dan's invention?

"We've talked a little more about it and we've actually come up with the angle of trying to make it the first community-designed energy drink," Mayer notes. "We want to have web-users give us feedback on flavors, the logo, all that stuff. The idea is still floating around, but ideally we would like to have something going by next summer."

Float on, Dan, float on. -- Adam Cayton-Holland

It can be tricky, running the toughest prison in the entire country, but it's hardly ever dull. One day you're getting blasted by lawmakers because security is too lax and convicted terrorists are managing to send letters out to new recruits. The next you're in the doghouse with a federal judge because your efforts to keep certain mail from coming in are considered unconstitutional.

Lose some, lose some.

Things seem to be heading downhill at the U.S. Penitentiary Administrative Maximum, better known as ADX. Home to some of the nation's most infamous prisoners — including Unabomber Ted Kaczynski (pictured), Oklahoma City bomber Terry Nichols, terrorist Zacarias Moussaoui and Colombian hit man Dandenis Munoz Mosquera — the federal supermax outside of Florence has been a magnet for controversy ever since its 1994 debut. But many of its most recent problems appear to be related to a single cause: shortsighted staff cuts, in the mailroom and elsewhere, that have exposed security gaps and sent buck-passers in the Bush administration scurrying for cover.

The staff shortages have sparked union protests and town meetings organized by state representative Buffie McFadyen (her Internet home page can be accessed here), who's made supermax security a rallying point for Fremont County residents. The cuts may have contributed to two inmate homicides last year, the first such deaths in ADX's history. And they've led to declining searches and made it easy for prison gang leaders and terrorists to send coded (or simply untranslated) messages to miscreants in the outside world. Yet the Bush administration has denied several BOP requests for additional security funding since the 9-11 attacks, even though more and more terrorists are being housed there. That prompted a recent letter from Senator Ken Salazar to President Bush urging that he intervene in the matter.

When you're short on guards, one way to deal with the mail is to ban everything potentially subversive coming in and out -- which is what ADX basically tried to do after 9-11. Prisoners couldn't receive publications that reported on prisons (including Westword), couldn't contribute articles to radical publications or receive those publications in the mail. That led to a series of court battles with prison writer Mark Jordan, who recently scored a modest victory in Denver's federal court, allowing him to receive a copy of a publication entitled (appropriately enough) "Justice Denied." Jordan, who's serving time for a bank robbery and a 1999 murder at another prison, will need the reading material; he's not due to be released for another 32 years.

To learn more about Mark Jordan, how the Aryan Brotherhood leadership operated within ADX, why Munoz Mosquera is serving ten life sentences in total isolation, and more, check out our Crime and Punishment archive. -- Alan Prendergast

In a March 2003 article, the Columbia Journalism Review declared Denver Post owner Dean Singleton to be a "newspaper surgeon" because of the trims he's made at properties acquired under the auspices of MediaNews Group, the sprawling company he heads. Some of these procedures have saved patients such as the Oakland Tribune, while others only delayed the inevitable demise of the Houston Post, etc. Nevertheless, Singleton continues to wield his scalpel, with one incision breaking the skin near the heart of his empire.

The evidence can be found in the October 29 edition of the Post. A few pages after a piece lauding Singleton for winning the "2006 Volunteers of America Humanitarian Award for his support of local charities" came an effort with a far less cheerful headline: "Newspaper Agency to Cut Up to 5% of Workers." The offering reveals that the Denver Newspaper Agency, which handles business operations for the Post and the Rocky Mountain News under a joint operating agreement, will reduce its workforce by as many as 94 employees working in various capacities, including "finance, human resources, advertising, information technology, operations and circulation." The overwhelming majority of these folks will be gone by November 13.

Granted, Singleton didn't personally eliminate these positions, but MediaNews' stake in the DNA means he had to sign off on them -- and his fingerprints are on another big slash, too. As noted in this Denver Business Journal report, MediaNews recently announced its intention to ax 101 toilers at the well-regarded San Jose Mercury News mere months after Singleton said "he would not be laying off staff or cutting health benefits."

As every journalism-scene observer knows, newspapers are facing nasty times right now, and Singleton is far from the only print entrepreneur doing the downsizing shuffle. And while this news was terrible for the individuals losing their gigs mere weeks before the holiday season kickoff, at least MediaNews hasn't mandated layoffs among the Post's editorialists after too few of them accepted a buyout package put forward earlier this year. (This Message column and a subsequent followup provide more details.) Nevertheless, the bad times aren't over, and no one will be surprised if the Post newsroom is subjected to more surgery after the first of the year.

Especially considering who's in charge of the emergency room. -- Michael Roberts

But you're going to be cold, you say, in a strapless cocktail dress. Or maybe you need something a little edgier for that Halloween party than what The Cat's Pajamas offered below. Problems solved: Just throw one of Lynne Bruning's Wookie coats over your shoulders, and you'll be ten feet tall and bullet proof. Cat speaks from experience: She had the good fortune to borrow a Wookie one evening, and it made her taller and smarter. How can you not be when you're wearing a giant, hot pink Chewbacca?

A few words of advice, however: Expect people to pet you...without...asking. If you don't like to be touched, you'll have to steel yourself before wearing a Wookie. Also, people will stare, but the Wookie gives you the power of royalty to stride through crowds with impervious abandon. The best part? You can wear them year round; no need to wait for Halloween to break out this fantasy self.

The Cat's Pajamas has always hated Halloween. She never liked having to dress up in some stupid-ass Tiger or Princess or Cheerleader costume. She was never much of one for make-believe, so the whole effort just somehow seemed pointless, even if candy was involved. There was this one time, however, that she got talked into being Sport Spice Mermaid for the annual Coney Island Mermaid Day Parade. That was fun, minus walking two miles in sky-high platforms and spangly polyester.

Cat's always been happy to help other people outfit themselves for the evening — that part is always insanely crazy and creative — but the question always remained: What does she wear out with her freaky friends? So Cat has been on the look out for an ensemble that could take her from the Masquerade Ball at the Oriental on Saturday night to "Secret of the Abyss," the sci-fi-themed party at Jax the same night. Or even any of the soirees at Rise and the Church happening all weekend. But it had to be something that didn't involve slutting herself out as a nurse or wearing someone else's stanky rented hippo gear.

What The Cat's Pajamas decided is that All Hallow's Eve is an excellent time to take some fashion risks, to try out some things you wouldn't wear in every-day life. To not be somebody — or something — else for the night, but to be a better, more flamboyant version of yourself.

For a sleek and elegant look, she chose a red strapless cocktail dress that she already had in her closet (nothing wrong with starting with what you've got) and then added a hand-crafted mask from Apocalypse Boutique (108 South Broadway, 303-777-3218). Owner Mike Romoth has been making these beauties for three years, and they are a perfect accoutrement for those masked balls where you want to look more gorgeous than outlandish. Plus, you'll look cool when you hit an after-party later and everyone else's makeup has sweated off and their outfits are half-undone.

Mike has a whole slew of masks in varying styles and colors, but Cat went with a basic black to start, and matched it with a pair of killer black stilettos and a giant cocktail ring. With a piece like this, you want all attention focused on it, so don't muddle the outfit with unnecessary earrings or necklaces. Just a light dusting of bronzer or sparkling powder over the collar bone will be more than enough. (Note: Photo is not of Cat; a special thanks to The Cat's Pajamas' special model.)

After Rocky Mountain News photog Todd Heisler (pictured) won a Pulitzer Prize this year for his work on "Final Salute," a sprawling piece that also earned a Pulitzer for reporter Jim Sheeler, there was no doubt that other publications would look to hire him. The only question, then, involved whether or not he would be receptive to their entreaties. Turns out the answer is "yes." As noted on Jim Romenesko's indispensable media-news page, Heisler has taken a position at a little ol' paper called the New York Times.

An October 27 e-mail in which Rocky editor/publisher/president John Temple informed his staff about this development is brief and to the point. "In his five years here Todd has done a range of extraordinary work," Temple wrote. "We will miss him." Readers here will, too -- but untold thousands more across the country will now have an opportunity to enjoy the work of a photog as talented as any who's worked in this town. -- Michael Roberts