The Rock Inn Mountain Tavern – Estes Park, Colorado
During my years at St. Anthony’s in Peñasco, I frequently tried the patience of the saintly nuns. Thankfully capital punishment was not permissible or you wouldn’t be reading this. It’s bad enough I wore out a few rulers and hopefully one elderly nun’s knuckles which often found their way to my head (that may explain a few things). I wasn’t a malicious student, just one who didn’t always conform. It wasn’t the age of “doing your own thing” though I certainly did my best to be an individual. Albeit, I was an individual who didn’t do his homework or study for tests (but still managed to ace them all). My antics were never deliberately destructive. In some ways I was like a gangly newborn giraffe trying to get my legs under me. Unusually tall for an elementary school student in Northern New Mexico, I was a poster child for clumsiness. Fellow students feared my lack of coordination would result in injury. When the nuns insisted on having us square dance, the girls feared my do-si-do more than they did an impromptu math quiz. My dancing resembled a combination of roller skating on ice and steer wrestling. My Kim…