#roostercat

[redwhitebreeze]

This one...

I've seen before... But where...

WAIT! IT WAS ON MY SPANISH ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEXTBOOK!!...

Yes!!

[leeharrington]

Sitting down at RoosterCat Coffee House @roostercatcoffeehouse with a horchata latte to work on PowerPoints. Nice empty back patio is mostly out of the wind, and it gives me a chance to support local and give my brain a break from home. Love this place #RoosterCat #SupportLocal #CafeCulture #CoffeeJoy #PowerPointFun https://www.instagram.com/p/CLp4HBnhbc5/?igshid=lblh8ojxk97c

[mathieusavreux-blog]

My fave coffee in Denver. Somehow never noticed this epic sign until today. XD #denver #colorado #roostercat #coffee #covfefe #coloradocoffee #neonsigns #neon #fucktrump #trump #trumpsmokesmids (at Roostercat Coffee Roasters)

[richiethereptilianplant]

Bilker, the audio wizard, and I just finished sound on The Salesman. We fucking did it!! Shout out to @cfloom And @roostercatcoffee for dealing with us the past week to finalize everything. #coffee #roostercat #cinema #shortfilm #postproduction #denverfilmsociety #Denver #film #Filmmaking #filmmakerslife (at Roostercat Coffee Roasters)

[poetjenharris]

Morning yums. #roostercat #coffee #pastries #cutesystuff (at Roostercat Coffee House)

[davezini-blog]

Pt.4

If the plane is always crashing into the mountain, why not just take the train? Because you don't get that feeling of free fall, that celestial environment of panic, that burning sensation…

Time started dragging on like a fruitless sack of dead weight, periodically giving off a sturdy mule kick square to my skull.

I was trying hard. But it seemed I was chasing a mythical creature, an elusive criminal, a figment of my imagination.

Perhaps I was imagining the entire world around me.

I convinced myself that what I was trying to do was best for everyone. I felt and still feel that too many people in the world are developing their livelihood centered around their own personal pursuit of “success”, whatever that word means to them.

I love music. I love making music. I love doing what I can to proliferate the progression of music and its significance in this world today and forever more.

That being said, I was trying to build a brand that would have pertinence in the ideal little Dave world I'd created in my head.

I'll skip the babble.

Post Homestead Press teetered out after about 3 months in existence.

Lost, hanging out at Roostercat, a bright sunny day.

There's a girl reading a book on the side patio going in and out of the cafe, presenting a clean tear of the pant under left-hand butt cheek.

We're all just shooting shit. I was feeling good for no good reason. Chain smoking, sipping away.

Brandon or Colin, one of the two, trying to round people up to go to the Fainting Goat. I'd already made up my mind; on a day like this I'm going to a park. I don't know which park, everyday up till then had been too cold to go to a park. Brandon or Colin, one of the two, asks girl with torn pant if she would like to join, she declines bashfully.

I happened to be watching, with wistful amusement.

Brandon and Colin, both of them, maybe one other, head out to the Fainting Goat.

The rest stick around, deeming the park as a more qualified activity for the day.

By that time, my caffeine intake has reached unsafe levels and I feel completely yacked out on delusions of godliness and invincibility.

Ah, substance abuse. Ain't nothing like it.

We're now ready to mobilize to the park. I ask the girl with ripped clothing if she'd like to join.

She accepts.

At this point, seeing as how it's Christmas, I'm going to continue the story tomorrow. Eat, get drunk, be happy.

[davezini-blog]

Pt.2

I killed the engine and dismounted- swearing, confused.

What did I have? What could I work with.

A dilapidated motorcycle, a bag of clothing, notebook, my instinct to survive. etc etc.

I was splitting rent with Baggins on cap hill, him on his bed, me on an air mattress in the kitchen. The beginning Denver days consisted of waking up thinking about nicotine and coffee, both of which I felt obligated to indulge in down at Roostercat coffee house. I got wise to buying groceries pretty quickly, though it felt I wasn't at home, at liberty to do so.

[Groceries are some of those things that connote “feeling settled”, you know, like “taking the robe out of the closet”; I slept in long johns next to a radiator on a sack of air with a hole in it. You need to have an imagination in harrowing times like these.]

The baristas at RC gave me free coffee about half the time, as they started to warm up to me. I spent many a morning, many a night at the coffee house; chain smoking, dialogues with new friends- of course there was sort of a core group at the time- centered around friends of friends of the owner, Colin, who, being a director/producer/set crasher, attracted the small clique of Denver filmmakers to his coffee house.

It was mostly just comedic blathering. Smoking, drinking coffee till your teeth rattled and piss stank, exchanging ideas that may never reach fruition… And everyone seemed to be there for a reason. Graduates, students, very few poets (in comparison to my Boulder days…), musicians, people humbled by the security of drudgery. And strangely enough for being a “metropolis” most of the people were native Coloradans. That was my social circle.

And there was me: a lost fucking outlaw, head in the clouds, hand on the throttle, having to bullshit my aspirations because it seemed like everyone had them except me.

The influence of film makers at RC started to tickle my gooch. Bagzinski had recently took on a project (unpaid) for some friends in a band. A daunting project- that of taking a video of a live performance and cutting it together. He was novice on the camera at the time, had probably had his gooch tickled by the tantal of our peer group.

We were sitting around and I saw that one of my first influential contemporary bands, Devil Makes Three, was playing in a couple of days. Struck by boredom and lack of a solid direction, I wanted to go, but knew it wasn't quite conducive with my Mortimer budget.

Draggin the everlastin cig, I look over and see Harlem Brando chipping away at the music video. Hmmmm. Hit up Devil Makes Three and interview them on video for a free ticket.

Having a flash of inspiration and task driven determination like that is refreshingly sobering, especially for a lost asshole like myself.

I didn't know how to use a camera. First thing that jumped into mind was forging a press pass. 'Post Homestead Press' was the company name. I began peeling away at the layers of managers, PR, press agencies involved to get to Devil Makes Three.

Continue reading tomorrow.

[whatsnatashaeating]