Cheyenne, Wyoming: Fine Dining

I love bull riding. I love bucking broncos I love steer roping. I love horses. I adore cowboys. What do you get when you combine all these things together? Cheyenne Frontier Days. For the past 10 years I have forced my family to make the 2-hour trek up to Cheyenne and indulge my weird fascination with the cowboy way of life.

It should be noted that when I say, “I love,” I course mean I love watching. Could you imagine me trying to ride a bull for eight seconds? I’d be in the air in one second, with a hoof in my gut in two seconds, and a horn in the buttocks in three.

I don’t know what it is. It’s like I’ve been transported into a Garth Brooks song. I love when gentlemen tip their cowboy hats and say, “Miss.” I love the cowboy boots that make an appearance even though it’s 100 degrees. I love that George Strait is blaring from Ford trucks everywhere. But most of all, I love watching men get thrown off horses one after another. It’s some quality time.

As we were driving up to Cheyenne, I couldn’t help but think of the eventful drive my family took up there when we moved to Denver 16 years ago. When my mom discovered that we were two hours away from Cheyenne, Wyoming there was no stopping the inevitable car drive. My dad is always up for a drive, and so the five of us set out…on a Sunday morning.

It’s probably well known to every person on the planet that Cheyenne shuts down on Sundays. Nothing is open. It’s a throwback to 1950’s America. So, we found the one restaurant in town that was open…Taco Bell. I remember for years I would say, “Yes, I’ve been to Cheyenne. Drove up there for some Taco Bell.”

It would seem that my family is destined to eat fast food every time we go to Cheyenne. When the rodeo had ended and I exited Garth Brook’s song “Rodeo,” we set off. On our way out we passed the line of people waiting to enter for the night’s concert. That’s where this gem was heard, “Put the knife away. If I see the knife again I will confiscate it.” Only in Cheyenne…

After driving up and down streets looking for food, to no avail, we headed for the highway. That is until we saw the golden arches. Yes, that’s correct, we ate a McDonalds. Classy. Classy. Classy.

But in all honesty…nothin’ says America like a day at the rodeo and a dinner at McDonalds, before heading off to Denver in a Ford.

Top LeMasters' Quotes..This Week

1. Old Navy is the IKEA of clothes. - Nick LeMasters

2. How do I find "Oprah Behind the Scenes?" - Nick LeMasters

3. The only problem with "Walk the Line" was Joaquin Phoenix's singing. - Nick LeMasters

4. You know what would be fun? If we signed you up for a singles website for Mormons. -Robyn LeMasters

5. You know what would not be fun? Signing me up for any type of singles website. -Dayna LeMasters

Fasting Grogginess

It should be stated that my family likes food. By food, I of course mean junk food. It is standard that if you come to the house, the counter will be filled with junk (Cheetos, Mike & Ikes, Pretzels, ect.). If you accompany us to the zoo, movies, church, there is some sort of snack bag. If you come on road trips with us there is a standard gas station stop before beginning the journey (Cheetos, Smart Popcorn, Cheetos, Chex Mix, Cheetos)…or if you’re my mom…Fruit Loops.

If we don’t keep that blood sugar high, one of two things happens. If you’re like some people in my family (dad), you get cranky. By cranky, I of course mean nasty. If you’re like me, you get a little loopy.

Today I needed to fast. So, I decided that it would be a FANTASTIC idea to go to the grocery store this morning. Smart, Dayna, really smart. I felt a little drowsy before setting out…but I proceeded.

First stop: Target, my favorite store in the world. After stocking up on goodies for Friday night’s movie fest with the niece and nephews, I was off to the grocery store. I should have known things were going down hill when I nearly ran a red and started seeing pink elephants in the streets (kidding…about the red).

Anyway. I got to the grocery store with my list. I thought it was going well, except for the fact that pushing the cart felt like I was trying to move a mountain. I got everything on the list. I had accomplished the goal.

That was until my dad arrived home and started looking through the fridge and cupboards.

Dad: Dayna. What is this caffeine free, Pepsi?

Me: No. Caffeine free, DIET, Pepsi.

Dad: Um. No. This says Pepsi, not diet. The can is gold, not white. I’m not drinking this! This has 150 calories per can.

Me: Oops. I could have sworn that said diet.

Dad: Dayna. What are these pineapple chunks?

Me: No. Pineapple Tidbits.

Dad: Um. No. Chunks.

Me: I don’t know what is happening! I didn’t buy anything I thought I bought. I honestly don’t really remember the shopping trip.

Dad: Dayna! People usually buy a bunch of junk when they go to the store hungry. You just bought a bunch of the wrong stuff.

Me: YOU KNOW WHAT?!? You’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it. At least it’s not somebody’s leftover turkey from their plate. It’s food…you’re welcome, sir.

The leftover turkey on the plate is another fantastic Nick LeMasters' childhood story. I'll save that for later...let you imagination run wild!

Antisocial Tendencies

Last night I was provided with reason 3,764 for why I need to get married. This reason came to me in the form of Family Home Evening…Singles Ward Style.

For those of you who are not familiar The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon), let me give you a little background about Family Home Evening (FHE). According to the church website, “FHE is a special time set aside each week that brings family members together and strengthens their love for each other, helps them draw closer to Heavenly Father, and encourages them to live righteously.”

For young, single Mormons it is a little different. It’s a place to gather, have a spiritual thought, and socialize. But…if you’re anything like me…it’s fodder for my blog. Last night was some quality blog material!

I arrived to FHE as I do every Monday. If I miss one I feel like I will have missed my prince charming sitting next to me…hasn’t happened yet...but that is besides the point. It started like any other Monday, hymn/prayer/announcements. Then the lesson started.

“You are a different generation from previous ones. You are the technology generation. You don’t know how to communicate. You’re always online or texting. Tonight we are going to learn how to communicate.”

Now, here, I take offense. I know plenty of people who are older, who are always online or texting.

This is when the question, “What parts of your face to you need to communicate?” Eyes, mouth, nose. Yes…a face was drawn on the board. “That’s right! If you don’t smile or look at people, people wont talk to you.”

Now, here, I disagree. I personally am an advocate of the nose. If you smell strange, I’m so done talking to you.

This is the point of the lesson when volunteers were called upon to practice the art of conversation in front of everyone. We had to determine whether the conversation was healthy or not. It was SO awkward. People started screaming out ““Narcissistic” or “Uninterested.”

I wanted to scream out, “PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!”

It became apparent that people truly didn’t know how to talk. I was counting down the seconds before I could leave! When would it be over?

So, after the fourth conversation it was 8pm. That is when a gentleman stood up and said, “That was great. Now we’re going to practice. Everyone form two lines. You will chat with the person across from you for two minutes.”

Yep…Speed Communicating.

At this point I got out of dodge. I figured I could enjoy some quality communication education by watching the show “The O’Neals.” I figure Ryan and Tatum O’Neal are the perfect people to watch on how not to communicate.

Oh…did I mention that my degree is in communications? Oh…did I mention that prince charming was not sitting next to me? Oh…did I mention that I have a sneaky suspicion that people have labeled us as anti-social young adults?

I should also mention that if you see me and I’m not looking at you, I’m frowning, or talking only about myself…I TOTALLY DON’T WANT TO TALK! Anyway. Looking forward to getting married so I can plan my own FHE. I will totally dominate.

Birds of a Feather

A few months ago my mom called me and said, “I’m thinking of doing something.” I of course had to brace myself as this came following her phone call from Mexico where she informed me she got a henna tattoo. So, I asked what she was up to and she told me she wanted feathers in her hair. I FREAKED! I said, “Absolutely not. That is a fad. Please don’t come home with feathers.” So, a few months has passed and the following conversation happened yesterday on the phone:

Mom: Well, I did it.

Me: Did what?

Mom: I got the feathers.

Me: Please tell me you’re joking. I can’t take it. Please tell me you are joking.

Mom: I’m not. Dad and I were walking by a salon. I walked in and asked how much it would be. They told me 15 dollars. So I did it! It actually turned out to be more that 15 though.

Me: Oh, mom! How much more?

Mom: Well, see it was misleading! The lady told me she liked to do things in 3’s, so we picked out six feathers. What she didn’t tell me was that they were $15 a piece. It was 90 dollars!

Me: OH MY GOSH! Are you kidding me? Are they special feathers, like white peacocks? 90 dollars!

Mom: Yeah. I thought dad was going to be sick. It was like the time you thought those frames were 8 dollars and when you went to pay they were 80. Anyway they’re rooster feathers and I really like them.

Me: Yeah, but if you recall I returned them a week later! You can’t return rooster feathers! ROOSTER? I could have gone to a farm and picked you rooster feathers. I could have sewn them in for 20 bucks.

At this point I have opened the garage.

Me: Wait. What’s happening in the garage? Who’s car is that? What is going on?

Mom: Oh, yeah. Our car broke down on the highway. Well it didn’t break down, but some smoke was coming out of the hood.

Me: I’m sorry. Your car broke down on the highway and you led with the feather story?

Mom: Well, yeah. I knew you’d be mean about the feathers, so I wanted to get it over with.

I’m happy to report that the feathers are cute in her hair. I can’t judge her too harshly. We’ve all gone through the fads. Remember scrunchies?

Some Things Never Change...County Fairs

Tonight was a night full of…hmm…what to say…tonight was let us say an experience. One year ago my brother Ryan invited us to attend the Arapahoe County Fair with him and the family. We of course agreed and tonight was the night that we had to be true to our word.

When we arrived, it was clear why Gramps, Nana, and Auntie were invited.

The Money


The Babysitter


The Bag Lady


We weren’t upset. You couldn’t pay me to ride those rides. I can’t take it. I get so easily carsick. I mean Disneyland is pushing the limits for me. So the three of us attended to watch the kids and eat food that is currently clogging my arteries. You also couldn’t pay me to ride anything after witnessing the first ride the kids rode.


Please note that the light has been kicked in and the propeller is missing on Ryan & Zach’s plane. It was terrifying!

The wonderful and I think magical thing about these fairs is that they haven’t changed since my mom and dad were dating. I loved walking in and hearing my mom say to my dad, “Are you going to win me a prize tonight?” Also, I kid you not, the rides are exactly the same as when I was a kid! The pictures below are proof that these rides are the same ones I rode at the California State Fair in 1990. It’s a little concerning.










The truly amazing thing about the fair is that kids find it to be spectacular. I remember having the time of my life at the state fair. Annie & Zach were living the good life tonight…except when Zach got off the first rollercoaster and said, “Well. Hated that.”

Wouldn’t it be great if we could see the world through kids eyes? Instead my eyes focused on the woman standing next to me gnawing on corn, the undercooked corn-dogs being eaten by people, and my favorite part the creepy people running the rides.

It was a wonderful night, full of people watching. My favorite thing to do! Oh. I would also like to note that my mom gets wild at fairs. She walked in saying hello to strangers and dancing to the music. Oh. By far the best part of the night when a little girl tripped Annie, my mom turned to me and said, “I would totally fight her.” She was probably 7.



I would also like to note, that Ryan LeMasters did in fact pay for things tonight…Gramps didn’t open his wallet until the money ran dry.

Car Karaoke

My name is Dayna LeMasters. You may know me as the girl that pulled up beside you at a stop light singing at the top of her lungs to “Just A Kiss,” by Lady Antebellum. Perhaps you know me as the girl listening to Grease’s “We Go Together” on her iPod, while unknowingly singing and dancing along. Or maybe you walked in on me hairbrush mid-air singing at the top of my lungs to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

I know what you’re thinking…and yes I was amazing. No record deals yet, but soon I’m sure. This has been going on for years. Since I heard that song “Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas. I can still see my eight-year-old self sing at the top of my lungs in my room to it…and I can still hear my dad banging on my door screaming, “TURN IT DOWN. STOP IT.”

The man really has no one but himself to blame. The number of times I’ve walked in on him, Bose headphones on, screaming out George Strait songs. I mean he has forever ruined “Heartland” with his voice and air drums. I kid you not, those air drums once made an appearance at a George Strait concert. I once found him singing along to Josh Turner’s “Would You Go With Me” while shoveling snow. I’m surprised he didn’t get a snowball to the face from one of the neighbors.

The other night I walked in on him, his iPad, and “Be Our Guest” playing at an ungodly volume. He looked right at me and started singing. He actually followed me into the living room turned on Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and started playing air guitar. It was a fascinating sight to behold.

Well. I’m here to tell you that this problem is apparently hereditary. Today I took my niece and nephew to the museum to see “Born Wild.” Sidebar…that is an amazing movie that everyone should see! In preparation for our drive downtown I created an amazing playlist for the drive. It included Bieber (of course), Taylor Swift, and Disney, Disney, Disney.

The kids were listening and asking questions, “What is this song Auntie?” Then I pulled out the good stuff…LION KING. Before the song started I asked, “Do you guys know this song?” When the first “Nants ingonyama bagithi baba” came on they both screamed, “YES!” And then it happened, my adorable nephew Zach belted out “Nants ingonyama.” It sounded more like “ANTS!” He sang along to the entire song. I was so proud. He will go far that one, very far.

See you on the commute…I’ll be the one secretly singing along to “Belle” from Beauty & The Beast.

My thanks to Google for providing the correct spelling for The Lion King lyrics. I’m good, but not that good.

Elderly Yoga

I love a yoga class. I’m terrible at it, but I love it. At some point in my yoga experience I will inevitably end up kicking someone in the face when I go into fighting samurai or getting stuck in blooming orchid.

It should be noted that these are not accurate names of yoga positions, as I’m typically too busy thinking about not falling to pay attention to proper names.

So, in an attempt to get away from construction workers overtaking my house, I decided to attend a 10:30am yoga class at the local gym. I should have been suspicious by the small amount of people in the room…me and another woman…but I decided to stay. I thought at least I will get some personal attention. It was terrible.

I kid you not, a woman in her 60’s walked in to teach the class. I was immediately concerned, not by her age, but by the leotard she was wearing over her long tights. It was too late to leave. It was terrible.

She began to play her music. I should be clear; by music I mean nature noises. Like whales and chirping birds. I have a bird. I don’t want to listen to pre-recorded noises. I like to listen to instrumental music. Music where I visualize myself riding on a horse in an open field or I don’t know, watching clouds. All I could think about in this class was Dory from Finding Nemo or being attacked by whales. It wasn’t working for me. It was terrible.

We did absolutely nothing but breath for an entire hour. I was looking forward to perfecting my open butterfly and crying baby poses. I was looking forward to being a freakin’ tree. All I got in an hour was breathing and babbling. “Think about what kind of personality traits you want. Focus on that trait and it will be.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I would like focus on toning my stomach muscles and or kicking you in the face, that’s what I’m gonna focus on. Thank you very much. It was terrible.

I ended the class lying on my back listening to water. Yes, that’s right. Water. I would like to inform all of you that I drank TWO bottles of water before attending that hour long class. TWO. It was terrible.

So after the bow, I left that class. On my way to the bathroom the other woman in the class stopped me and had this lovely question, “What the hell was that?” Good times, good times.

Nama-Freakin-Ste

Nick LeMasters, Storyteller Extraordinaire

My dad has officially turned 53. In honor of his birthday, the family gathered at Casa de LeMasters for a shindig. A shindig that turned into a luau 5 minutes before the party started. That’s the great thing about this place. It really is Narnia. If you can think it, it can happen. So, we pulled out some Hawaiianish plates and then some lays and we were set. My dad is a true trooper. I mean 53 and he’ll still play dress-up…mostly because he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against my mom and myself.

The party turned into a shindig for the kids…I mean just look at the balloons. That’s the great thing about having little ones in the family; they make every gathering a laugh. Annie walked in, took one look at us and said, “Ooh! This is going to be fun!” And let me tell you…she was right!

As the gathering began to simmer down (I mean we get crazy here…Sugar. Sparkling Cider. Sugar. Party Poppers) Annie turned to Gramps for some entertainment. The following story/exchange took place:

Annie: Gramps, tell me a story from when you were a little boy.

Gramps: Hmm. Let me think.

Annie: I know! Tell me about the time that Uncle Tom poured water on Grandpa Marty. That’s like my favorite story EVER!

Gramps: Okay. So when I was younger I lived with my mom and dad and 3 brothers and two sisters. My dad hardly ever did yard work and when he would it was sort of a big deal. We were all expected to be outside with him while he did it. So, Grandpa Marty was working on the strip. We called it the strip because it was the piece of grass between our house and the Monks. My mom was barking orders at Grandpa Marty and he was kind of getting angry, because he didn’t want to be out there. It was hot and he didn’t have a shirt on.

Annie: Oh. Okay. So he wasn’t modest. Also, Grandpa Marty is kind-of a grump, right?

Gramps: Yeah. He wasn’t modest and he is a grump. So he barks at your Uncle Tommy to get him some cold water.

Annie: And I haven’t met Uncle Tommy.

Gramps: Well, no. So Tommy goes inside. Gets a plastic pitcher full of ice water. Comes outside and pours the whole thing down Grandpa Marty’s back. So Grandpa Marty flies up. I THOUGHT HIS PANTS WERE ON FIRE…and takes off after your Uncle Tom. He’s chasing him down the street screaming “YOU GET BACK HERE!”

Annie: I just love that story. We should call Grandpa Marty! I’ll get on the phone and say, “YOU SHOULDN’T BE SO GRUMPY.”

I truly believe my dad should be a consultant for Mad Men. His stories about his childhood in the 60’s are just classic. I also enjoy that Annie has never met anyone in this story, but feels like she knows the facts! Following this fantastic story, Annie gave a ring-a-ding to Grandma Joan, who was kind enough to verify old Gramps’ story.

My deepest gratitude to The LeMasters and their involvement in all truly fantastic Nick LeMasters’ stories.

Errand Man

My dad is sent on many an errands for this family, especially Starbucks runs. He’s becoming a regular there. He just loves that! After a phone call with him yesterday, I realized that he is constantly running errands for me. As many of you know, he manages a shopping mall, so sometimes it’s more convenient (for me) for him to pick something up on his way out the door.

My dad is also obsessed with his new iPad. “Dayna! These Apple people are amazing. This thing is just genius!” I’m pretty sure Oprah has said the same thing, but we’ll let him think he thought up that quote. The following conversation happened yesterday:

Me: Hello, sir!

Dad: Hey, what’s up?

Me: Am I correct in saying that you no longer have a bookstore?

Dad: That’s correct. We don’t like readers. We don’t want that kind of riff-raff hanging around. Why do you ask?

Me: Hilarious. Oh, I just went to buy a book, but they are completely sold out at Barnes & Noble. Just wanted to check and see if you could grab it. BUT…you’re kind-of a loser in that department, so it won’t work.

Dad: I’ll download it for you! I’ll put it on the iPad!

Me: Wow. You don’t let people touch that. That would never work out.

Dad: False. I would let you touch the iPad.

Me: Plus, you’re obsessed with it. I’d maybe get in a half hour of reading before you confiscated it. The book is 950 pages. It would take a year to read.

Dad: False. You read fast. It would take like 6 months.

Me: You’ve been so helpful. Anyway, I’ll check the Barnes & Noble on Wadsworth. Love ya!

*Note. Italics indicates HEAVY sarcasm. We love the sarcasm. Well...I love the sarcasm.
**Note. The hat worn in this photo is not a requirement when running errands. It is however highly encouraged.

Top Gun. Sick. Raining. Totally Worth It.

When I first heard that “Top Gun” would be playing at Red Rocks, I thought that would be epic. I was in fact correct. When I heard my friend had never seen the movie, I thought that was a crime against society and immediately informed her that we would be going.

So last week we headed up to Red Rocks. Not before my dad told me that he and Viper once had lunch. He loves that story. Like he had lunch with Maverick or something.

I had a cold. Well. No. Not a cold. My doctor assured me it was just allergies. This was after he made me do very scientific things like hold one nostril closed while I tried to breath out of the other. Anyway. The hike to the amphitheater was not an easy one if you can only breath from your mouth. We made it!

We scoped out a spot…right next to the family with an extra-large pizza…right behind the girl who was fighting with her friends about what blankets they were/were not allowed to use…right by the guys suited up in the flight gear and aviators. I thought it seemed perfect!

We sat through the bad bands, the terrible host, and the cringe-worthy comedian. We sat through the group of twenty-something men, who came out on stage to re-enact the volleyball scene. I kid you not! There were two of them that kept high/low fiving. It was just fantastic. We sat through all of that…when the rain came.

Just our luck. We sit through all of that and when the movie begins the freakin’ rain comes. The umbrellas went up, the lights went down, and Top Gun epicness began. It was truly one of the best viewing ever. Totally worth the rain, cold, and sickness.

6,000 people sat in the rain. 6,000 people went completely quiet as they read the opening text. 6,000 people screamed as the words “TOP GUN” came across the screen. 6,000 people cheered as Goose flipped the bird. 6,000 people screamed “VIPER.” 6,000 people sang along to “You’ve Lost That Loving’ Feeling.” 6,000 people screamed, “kiss her” when Maverick meets Charlie. That amphitheater rocked when Maverick won the war.

It was a night full of 80’s cheese. I entered the danger zone and it was worth it. Totally worth it.

Lessons From Disney

I’ve have been taught many lesson from Disney:
1. I can expect a man on a white horse to show up at my door minute now (BTW, Disney, if this doesn’t happen soon, heads are gonna role).
2. All stepmothers are evil.
3. I wasn’t crazy; my toys did talk and move about when I left my room.
4. Fish are friends, not food.
5. Never trust a man who sings about being covered in hair or eating five-dozen eggs.

So it will come as no surprise that I found myself intrigued by the royal wedding. It was a real life Disney film that I would get to witness. Because of my fascination with this event, my brother Ryan bought me the DVD for my birthday. He was so excited about his gift, even going as far as to send me a text telling me that my gift was “tight.”

The DVD was lying on the counter on Saturday and I kept seeing my niece look at it with wonderment. Who is this man dressed in red? Who is this woman with a crown? Being the good auntie that I am I asked her, “Do you want to see a real princess get married?”

We sat down to watch the wedding. That’s when I discovered that everything American’s know about the British comes from Disney films. Annie began by asking where the Queen was. When I pointed out the lovely woman in yellow, she followed up her question with, “Is she good or evil?”

When they arrived at the alter, Annie asked me, “Why does that man have a funny outfit on, like in The Little Mermaid?”

Annie then asked where William’s mother was. AWKWARD. Gramps stepped in by saying that she had passed, but that his stepmother was present. Annie quickly replied, “Oh, stepmother, so she’s not nice.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. Another generation ruined by Disney.