Today was more of a down time day than anything else. It’s a Monday and son-in-law John had to work and I had a trial prep call for my trial in mid-September. The purpose of these calls is to get my head back into the case after a three year hiatus. They want me to refamiliarize myself with the opinions and evidence used to create those opinions in my expert report. The understood balancing act involves figuring out how to be sure I spend the time committing as much of the material to memory and yet being sure I do it as close to the trial dates as possible so that I have it fresh in my recollection. That sort of analysis is necessary when you have 150 documents, many of which were a cache of stolen intellectual property, and therefore subject to exacting review and testimonial triangulation of their strategic gymnastics. There are also 20 deposition transcripts which are central to evidencing the value of the stolen docs, which is part of the scope I’m hired to assess.
While John and I sat in our nearby Hampton Inn rooms, working the phones and Zoom, killing the proverbial wildebeest for the family, Kim, Carolyn and the granddaughters went to a tea house in Golden for finger sandwiches. In other words, life was as it should be. At breakfast, the womenfolk and I decided that a good activity would be to go to Meow Wolf in the afternoon. Kim and I had “discovered” Meow Wolf in Santa Fe (its place of origin) some 7 or so years ago. We had been told it was a “don’t miss” attraction. We went, but in a phrase, we didn’t get it. Since then, the mention of Meow Wolf is like fingernails on a chalkboard to us. But in driving through Denver the other day, there next to Mile High Stadium, was a building labeled Meow Wolf. It was supposed to be close to 100 degrees in Denver, and thoughts were running to a visit to the Aquarium, but I must admit that seeing a bunch of fish is not high on my wish list. So, I threw out the Meow Wolf idea, much to Kim’s amazement since we were equally negative on the experience. My reasoning was that it had been 7 years and they had succeeded in expanding to 10 cities and the kids might enjoy it….and it was indoors,,,and it wasn’t about fish.
Kim was skeptical, but finally agreed haltingly to my logic and went online to get tickets. Being in a lighthearted mood, I joked that she would now be on the Meow Wolf email list for eternity. She failed to find the humor in that. Then her phone seized up for some odd reason and in frustration and probably spite, and since they had to get going to their tea house, she suggested I buy the damn tickets if I was so keen on the idea. I agreed with a wave of magnanimity and reminded the group of the value of keeping an open mind and giving things a second chance. Kim’s comment was something to the effect of, “yeah, yeah, yeah, see you this afternoon at Meow Wolf…” Carolyn, our resident attractions cynic (Disneyholics can be that way), never even got the chance to get her claws into the issue, it all happened so fast, and she just went along for the ride and out of curiosity about this attraction with the strange name.
When we entered the Meow Wolf lobby and were asked if we were ready for departure into the Metaverse, Kim put her arms immediately into that tight crossed position that either says “my shoulders hurt and I can’t move” or, more likely, “no matter what I encounter, I’m not having it.” We got transported into the absurd, phosphorescent half-light world of Meow Wolf and were told to wander to our hearts content since there were no maps available to the Metaverse. I have to hand it to the Chief Meow Wolf, whoever that is. He/she took a sweaty bad peyote dream in Santa Fe and institutionalized it into a multicity modern attraction that still looks like an elaborate backyard carnival with OSHA and ADA handrails built by Spanky and his gang. I expected Alfalfa to spring out of a trap door at any minute. We did indeed wander through this intentionally disorganized maze with 1950s newscasts flickering here and there on old Philco screens and converted hairdresser dryers that last serviced the coiffure of Frankenstein’s bride. The girls ran here and there much to Carolyn’s chagrin, while she repeated the phrase, “thank God John couldn’t come…” You see, John, wearing his Homer Simpson yellow hoodie, is a random thinker who would have been so captivated by Meow Wolf’s unintelligible nonsense that he might never want to leave.
About 10 minutes into this nightmare (5 minutes longer than it took 7 years ago in Santa Fe…thanks to the ADA guardrails, I suspect), Kim turned to me and said, “I’ m going down to the coffee shop to wait…are you coming with me?” I’m not sure, but I think moving her arms from their crossed position to firmly punching into each of her hip bones was a message for me to comply. We went down and found the Meow Wolf cafe while the girls ran around driving Carolyn crazy some more. I hadn’t had lunch, so I opted for a cup of ice cream, of which I had a choice of three obscure flavors. I chose for the only one I could make any sense of, called “Unicorn Poop” and found it to be a little slice of Meow Wolf psychedelic colors in a cup…with sprinkles of some sort on top. I think Kim had a cup of black coffee.
Some kid behind me fell off her chair while playing a Meow Wolf video game about the first nuclear test at Alamogordo. Luckily she was not hurt, but it certainly cut into my enjoyment of my Unicorn Poop. When the kids finally finished their voyage and found us, I could see from the expression on Carolyn’s face that it had all been a Boo Rattly moment for her. She mumbled something about never bringing John anywhere near the place. They all then went into the extensive Meow Wolf gift shop and time stood still.,,they all came out without a single purchase and Carolyn had a somewhat distasteful look on her face that said it all.
While Kim napped off her afternoon excitement, Carolyn and I went shopping for food to take to the BBQ being given for us by our Golden pals, the St. Johns. The Kroger brand out here is King Sooper, which helps explain their. acceptance of Meow Wolf into their community. After a lovely evening with sliced steak and grilled chicken, we headed home to the Hampton Inn, Meow Wolf, Unicorn Poop and King Sooper a fading memory. Then I checked my email and saw the first of what I imagine will be a lifetime of Meow Wolf promotions. I clicked on the refer-a-friend button and put Kim’s email address in since I knew she would want to join me in an eternity in the Metaverse.