While the Denver capitol building isn't much more impressive than the other White House look-a-likes, today, it's either under construction or has a very unsafe jungle gym built around the dome. This adds a little bit of interest to it.
Like other capitols, there are various memorials scattered about the grounds, but nothing that particularly piqued my interest.
Denver definitely seemed like the most densely populated capitol I'd visited thus far, if not the most densely populated city overall (Dallas may have beaten it). It's here that I realize there's definitely a limit to the amount of people I want to live around. I could've guessed that, but visiting Denver proved it. For starters, this was the first city I saw a man blatantly yelling on the street for what seemed no legitimate reason. He was on the corner of the capitol block just yelling. Everyone could hear it, and everybody tried to ignore it, but that didn't stop this man from doing it. And again, he was right in front of the capitol building: when your governor no longer feels a man yelling incoherent babbling in front of his office is something worth showing attention to, you must have a lot of weird shit going on in your city.
Add on top of this the general amount of sketch in any large city that's only increased with more people and the fact you can't give anybody a friendly passing glance. Anyone I tried to nod hi to continued to stare straight ahead. I realize this is a southern tradition and don't expect all other places to participate in it, but I can't help but feel the reason cities like Denver don't participate in it isn't because the people aren't friendly and don't want to make friends, but because they're worried anyone who looks at them is about to mug them or ask them for change. And so, I think a city of this size might not be for me. I get in my car and continue north, to Cheyenne, the capitol of Wyoming.
While Denver wasn't particularly inviting for me, it's not beyond the general feeling I get from capitols. They're all overpopulated, seem to have lots of homeless people (something I don't enjoy, ironically), and yes, occasionally a screaming crazy person. So going into Cheyenne, I prepare myself for the normal paid parking and trying to not run over pedestrians, when I realize something...I'm already there. I look to my left and see the capitol building. There aren't people spilling out onto the streets, there's not someone on the corner staring at me with a cardboard sign. Everything is just...normal. After parking my car (for free) I walk a block to take pictures of the capitol building:
It's much more quaint than the other capitols; it manages to be attractive but not gaudy. It also steers away from the White House look, though similarities are still there.
* * * * *
The memorials of Cheyenne also manage to be interesting and original. The statue above is one celebrating Esther Morris as a key proponent in Wyoming becoming the first state to endorse women's suffrage.
This statue of Chief Washakie, who helped negotiate safe passage of settlers through Native American territory, also manages to be interesting as well as being a pretty cool looking statue; the detail work on the feathers looked great.
Then there's a statue for progress in the cattle industry,
a work of art called "The Spirit of Wyoming" that appears to be life-sized,
and a buffalo celebrating Wyoming's 100 year anniversary. I also see a group of men walking down the street who remind me of the Anchorman crew. I snap a shot when their backs are turned.
Driving around the city a little more, I still can't get over how normal it is. Cheyenne seems to be the grown up, more mature version of a capitol. It doesn't have the skyscrapers that normally signature such a city, it doesn't try for your attention; it's a college town without the college kids, a capitol without the ego. It's just a nice, peaceful place.
Still wondering how such a place could exist, I stop at another Starbucks (this time hot chocolate AND a soda). Upon entering, I notice something...there's a lot of women in here. Starbucks seems to draw more women than men anyway, but never this ratio. Looking back, I may have been the only male in the place. It's then that it clicks. The women's suffrage statue, the majority female population...is this...no, it couldn't be...is this really what the world would be like if women ran it? Have they been right all along? No, that can't be what's happening. Where's the bitter jealousy? Where are the effects of monthly synchronized chaos? Suddenly, I feel very paranoid. I have to be on my best behavior. All it takes is one slip of, "Bitches be crazy!", and this place becomes 5 star Grand Theft Auto for me.
"Excuse me ladies, were you planning on sitting here?"
"Oh no, you go right ahead!"
That was a close one.
All joking aside, Cheyenne really has been one of my favorite towns to visit so far. I'm not sure if it was women's suffrage, herding cattle, or something else all together, but whatever Cheyenne did, they did it right.
I decide to sleep at the Wyoming Welcome Center and Rest Area about 15 minutes out of Cheyenne. I'm not hungry but force myself to eat something: so much sugar in my system. As I fall asleep I hear the wind raging; all the flat lands are windy, but I've never felt it as much as that night. I also hear something else; somebody's messaged me. I'm too deep in sleep to check it. When I wake up I find out; it's Wes. He saw one of my post and is living in Cheyenne.
No comments:
Post a Comment