Atticus   

I’d expect it somewhere in India or on the streets of one of those outlying Chinese cities with multiple millions of inhabitants that Westerners still don’t know by name and couldn’t even begin to correctly pronounce.

But while walking on the 16th Street Mall, I don’t expect to be accosted on every block by people trying to sell me something.

I thought it was bad enough to deal with the panhandlers and their stories of sick babies, broken-down cars and lack of bus fare after visiting someone at the hospital.

Now I can’t go to lunch without having seven college kids asking me whether I have time to Save the Children, have a minute for Greenpeace or have time to talk about some Colorado environmental organization.

I’m sure these people are getting paid to peddle their charities to as many people as possible, so it’s understandable that they’re aggressive. But a downtown experience that brings to mind a marketplace in Asia likely isn’t the atmosphere we want when the world turns its eyes to Denver for the Democratic National Convention in August.