Sean Beckwith: Back to my roots |

Sean Beckwith: Back to my roots

Going home to Omaha, Nebraska, for a vacation was nice preparation for the start of the season. Living in Aspen has a ton of superfluous perks that can get in the way of living life like the majority of people do. Sure, you could probably go out every night residing just about anywhere and spend money like Nicholas Cage at an auction, but it’s easier to do it here. I’m constantly reminding myself not to look up from the ground on the way to the bus because a bright money-sucking light’ll distract me.

I was laying low drinking beers at other people’s houses more than raging out at the bars and, like those rare opportunities during peak season, getting after it when the prospect presented itself.

I went out to eat a few times but not like when you visit a new city and crowd source friends for dining options. It was more sandwich and bag of chips or take-out than single-cube Old Fashions and small plates.*

It was like I seamlessly returned from the DL — throwing zingers, falling asleep during sporting events, playing Mario Kart, mixing it up. It played out like a montage from a home movie.

I got to see both sets of grandparents, which came with the obligatory lawn work and cheesy potatoes. Also, planting tulips is a little more taxing than I thought. I received updates on cousins’ jobs in law enforcement and firefighting. Sorry, Josh and Ryan, busting small-town keggers and scofflaw truckers is not as cool — or dangerous — as Dawson fighting damn wildfires.

You can grab a delicious burger, fries and two beers for less than $15. People have 9-to-5 jobs, kids and other obligations. They’re talking about buying houses and career moves.

Back in Aspen, people are breathing the last gasp of quiet before the season dunks you again. A career move is checking in on which friends are happiest at which restaurant or hotel and weighing their content/screw-this-job ratio versus starting over. My big real estate plan is making sure my condo is as comfortable as possible while praying for the lottery.

A little foresight goes a long way in Nebraska. My planning extends to April and May and, if I’m feeling very adult, the following offseason. It’s hard because the temptation to go buy a bottle of bubbly and spray it everywhere does not exist in Omaha. A friend of mine visited in March and he got doused with suds and he wasn’t even trying. If you walked into a bar in Omaha and immediately got hit with errant prosecco, a fight would break out.

If you live in a place like Omaha with the affordability, career options and lack of champagne issues, you’re almost doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing them. (I almost wrote problems and thankfully I didn’t because apparently that’s a Jonas brother song, and I would have been forced to retire my column)

A little perspective is nice before a long march of doubles. Oh, look at these people over here planning for the future. I guess people still do that. It reminds you why you’re not using your credit card as your offseason bank account. You may be planning for different things, but it’s still under the umbrella of planning.

However, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stick to the path. What do you do when you’re faced with a vicious party, armed to the teeth, and ready to kill you? (And, yes, that’s a Big L reference and, yes, I want my music cred pass back.)

* I did go to a couple of upscale spots. Shout out to poorly thought through hipster food with deconstructed Shirley Temples.

“Excuse me, sir, this is supposed to be a Moscow Mule, not your homemade version of Sprite.”

One out of two isn’t bad. Though I should have grabbed an entree at Jackson Street Tavern (the good one) after the ahi tuna nachos slayed. Normally when I see any kind of fish nachos, I steer the other way. It’s the second time I’ve ever had nachos with fish that I wanted to eat again.

Sean Beckwith would like to congratulate Nate and Jill Gosselin. Sorry, I couldn’t write three wedding pieces because my editors wouldn’t allow it. (Narrator: He could have written three wedding pieces.) Email at

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