Tell Me Why, I Don't Like Mondays?

The wine was flowing like, well, wine on Monday night, as Lauren and I joined Terry Schaeffer and his life-mate Amy (trust me, it's an Aspen concept) at the Little Nell to celebrate the end of Terry's October 15th busy season. Terry allows me to share his downtown Aspen office space rent-free, and as if that weren't enough, he wanted to treat Lauren and I to dinner at one of the finest restaurants in the country. As any good celebration tends to, this one included an abundance of spirits and all the finest meats and cheeses a guy could ever want.

Lauren and I savored every bite of our scallops and rib eye, fully aware that absent another benefactor like Terry, this will likely be our last meal at the Nell. Or at least until our parents come out to visit and open up those checkbooks (hint, hint).

The food was worth every penny, I must say, and the wine left Lauren in a gooood mood. Interesting story...the resident Sommelier at the Nell is a fellow named Richard Betts, who aside from being a fantastic runner and bearing a slight resemblance to Luke Wilson, is one of only 56 Master sommeliers in America and one of only nine in the world to pass his test on the first try. I bet that doesn't hurt with the ladies.

There's Lauren and Amy above, putting the finishing touches on our night. Below is me and my man Terry, a great guy and an Aspen icon. You can't walk 10 feet with Terry without someone shouting hello, shaking his hand, or threatening his life (not joking...trust me). You know, I've never seen a guy get so bombed off of a desert wine, but God bless him, it made for some great conversation.

As wonderful as the wine, food, and conversation was, it was what took place outside of the Nell that made the night most memorable. We had walked in around 7:30, and while there was a bit of a nip in the air, there was nothing to indicate what was to come. By the time the last of the wine was consumed it was 9:30, and as we exited the Nell, we found Aspen immersed in a good old fashioned snowstorm.
After snapping a couple of photos, Terry and Amy pulled away, leaving Lauren and I alone as we walked to our car. For reasons I can't adequately explain, I know I'll remember that moment for the rest of my life. There I was, holding the hand of the girl who means everything to me, her angelic face illuminated against a backdrop of falling snow and a distant street lamp. For just a few seconds, the streets were motionless in every direction, and as I watched the snow paint our postcard-perfect town a brilliant white, I was absolutely certain that life, even if for just that moment, was perfect.

Uhhh...now who saw that Bears game on Monday night? That was something else, huh?