Tag Archives: Teddy roosevelt

The Whiskey Chronicals

Leave the bottle

Leave the bottle

If you watch any good western, a bottle of Whiskey is part of the plot.  “Leave the bottle” is akin to “you know…it’s been a really, really bad day”.

Now, often in a good western, there’s a complete idiot who thinks “Leave the bottle” means, “Hey, come over to me and say something stupid”.

Buffalo Bill and I had that kind of day Last Saturday in Golden, Colorado. After being in the portrayal competition all day (which is very stressful) we decided to visit a saloon that we had never been to and drink a few beers.   Now, keep in mind we stay dressed in older fashioned cowboy clothes.  We both have large mustaches, like the old west.  We both have big knives hanging from our belts, like the old west.  We both just wanted them to “leave the bottle”, just like the old west.

Will and I chose a booth and started to talk.  A woman at the bar turned around and just stared.  Not the polite “quick-glance”, or even the slightly longer “turn the circle so it looks like you aren’t looking”.  Nope, this was a 2 minute “what the hell” stare.  Will looked at me and glanced his eyes towards her and back at me.

“She’s staring” he said.

“Well, you are pretty ugly” I said.

He then scrunched up his face and stared back at her. She turns quickly back. We laugh.

The next few minutes are sort of a blur. But soon she is at the end of our table, bent down and staring at him, almost face to face. But no words. Nothing. Will has sent his signal “Hey, come over to me and say something stupid”.  She didn’t disappoint.

“You freak me out”.

Always a strong pick-up line.

“You look like someone very special to me”


“He’s dead. I think you are his ghost”


I come in to diffuse the situation. “You are pretty old Will, maybe you are dead” I smile to him as I say it.

If looks could kill, I would be dead myself.

She finally left, and sat back down after some tense minutes.  A few minutes later, a drunk walks by the booth , does a Charlie Chaplin put-on-the-brakes and backs-up.  “Whoa. You guys from the hills?”

“Yep, been panning all day, only found one nugget” Buffalo Bill doesn’t even look up as he mutters it.

The drunk does a long stare.  Head darts back-and-forth between both of us. He Shrugs and walks away. We both left the bar before anyone else blew smoke up our dusters. “Just leave the Bottle”.


The Buckhorn

The Buckhorn Exchange, Denver Colorado

The Buckhorn Exchange, Denver Colorado

In the city of Denver sits a saloon built in 1893.  It wasn’t the first bar in Colorado but it does hold the distinction of having liquor license number 1, and has continuously operated since it opened.  What’s more significant for us is that both Buffalo Bill and Theodore Roosevelt frequented the place.

Because of its history, (and awesome food) we always stop by for a drink or dinner when we come to Denver and always dress old west. So many tourists come to the Buckhorn, that we are having our photos taken with people constantly, and yesterday was no exception. A lovely lady with a great southern accent asked if she could have her picture taken with us. In talking, we learned she was an opera singer turned lawyer. I think one of the greatest joys of doing what we do is meeting such interesting people. People interested in history (and theater) are a diverse bunch, and it’s a glue that connects us all together in a way that is fun and peace-loving. No political agenda, no religious bias. Just interest in the past.

Buffalo Bill at the Buckhorn

Buffalo Bill at the Buckhorn

Whatja Talkin’ bout Will?

Whatja Talk in bout Will?

Buffalo Bill and I were on our way to a characterization competition for year three.  This has become an annual adventure, and each year we have encountered severe weather on our way out.  Up until this year, we had made it with some well-trained white knuckles and a well positioned plastic Jesus on the dashboard.  Well, this year our luck ended.

Buffalo Bill: ” I can’t see the center line….we’re going to need to get off the road and get a hotel room”

Teddy: “Whatcha you talkin about Will?”

Let me set the record straight.  I like Nebraska.  Honest.  Each year, we visit Ole’s Tavern in Paxton, Nebraska and see Sam, our favorite waitress in the U.S.  She serves us a great meal and some needed drinks.  But we are not in Paxton.  We are in Armpit, somewhere near ***hole thanks to a snow storm that is likely to strand us here for 2 days.  Two guys who have only old west clothes, in a place that is likely to not understand that we were in our way to a national competition.

We have brought the plastic Jesus into the room and are praying hard to him.  Please, let us get to Denver tomorrow.  Or, please, do not let the Donner Party know we are here.  Snowstorms. Spurs do not make good snowshoes.  Ugg.