where the streets are cluttered and soiled for a few weeks of the year, and the beer cups are poured out and stepped on and pressed into the mud until they become one, and you stand there and watch while drunk people around you dive like children at the sacred beads being tossed from the sky. And you'll make a fool of your grown self, too, especially when the beads are shiny. And when you're tired of the smell of trash mixed with Coors mixed with sweat, fly home and go to dinner with friends, >>