International Falls to Denver

Arrived in Denver this evening for our friend’s wedding (Kathryn Matousek, if you need to know), on a mostly uneventful trip. One part of it stood out, and if I could have found a way to take a picture without looking like a complete douche, I would have.
We got on the bus to the car rental farm out in the dreary brown grass surrounding Denver, and this couple sat down beside us moments later. Her: Farrah Fawcett hair, purple, pinstriped shirt with a butterfly collar, tight Jordache-style jeans, and beige zip-up, square-toed leather boots (inside said pantlegs). Massively awesome. Him: Yellow t-shirt, beige khakis, glasses with neck strap, and white running shoes with VELCRO straps.
I’m no fashion plate by any stretch, and I’m not usually this shallow, but these two totally, fully rocked my world for the rest of the day.
A slightly-more-insightful aside to the couple in question: I noticed that she had a substantial diamond on her engagement ring/wedding band combo, and was truly struck by the universality of the “rock” concept. Here’s a couple who are obviously not big spenders, judging by the wardrobes, but there’s no question he/they dropped several thousand dollars on that ring. I’m *so* glad Frances isn’t a traditionalist; we’d still be paying for a ring.
By the way, if you ask about how badly lost we got in Denver on the way home from dinner, you will get beaten. Think “Big Ben, Parliament” — a la European Vacation, but involving a Target store and a ridiculously-designed interstate highway.

Category: Lincoln
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