About The Hairy Times
Some publications are built in boardrooms.
This one was built in the real world — and it was built for you.
The Hairy Times is independent — no corporate owners, no political advertisers, no agenda handed down from a boardroom. The reporting here doesn’t answer to shareholders. It answers to readers.
Andrew Hahn started working at 13 in the restaurant industry — not because someone told him to, but because that’s who he is. That same forward momentum carried him through a career that most people couldn’t fit into three lifetimes.
In the kitchen, he rose to become Sous Chef for one of Denver’s top catering companies and Corporate Chef for a chain of Sports Taverns. His culinary skill earned him recognized awards: Pastry & Dessert (1989) and the Chef de Cuisine Mystery Basket competition (1993). Then, in 1994, he co-created Pure Hell hot sauce — which took 1st Place at the Fiery Foods Show in Albuquerque. If you’ve ever tasted it, you understand the name.
Real estate came next. Andrew earned his Real Estate Broker’s license at 18, making him one of the youngest in the state to do so. He then moved into mortgage, becoming one of the first formally licensed Mortgage Brokers when the industry established national standards in the mid-1980s — a distinction that would prove meaningful when the economy eventually came apart at the seams.
Along the way, Andrew found his footing in the film and music world as a Gaffer, Grip, and Set Construction professional. His credits span more than 30 commercial productions, the feature film Elizabeth: The Story of Baby Doe Tabor, the rock video Attitude Check, and a documentary. He didn’t just watch the stories being told — he helped light them.
In the live events world, Andrew worked concert security for legendary Denver promoter Feyline. He was part of the security team for the Rolling Stones Tattoo You concert at CU Stadium in Boulder (1981) — along with shows for George Thorogood, Heart, Manhattan Transfer, Rickie Lee Jones, and many more. The kind of credential you can’t manufacture.
He built his own boutique mortgage company and navigated the economic meltdown of 2008 — not by retreating, but by staying present and watching carefully. He went on to spend eight-plus years working with a wholly owned subsidiary of Accenture in software development, and rounded out nearly a decade as a licensed fireworks display operator on a federal explosives permit, working major sporting events as well as the 2005 Democratic National Convention.
Through all of it, one thing remained constant: Andrew paid attention. He watched the world shift, the media landscape fracture, and public trust erode. And eventually, he decided to do something about it.
Where The Hairy Times Came From
The idea sparked in 2008, during the economic meltdown. Andrew found himself absorbing information from every angle — news, opinion, rumor, spin — and noticing how often the truth got lost in the noise. The same story told ten different ways, each version shaped by whoever was doing the telling. The frustration was real. And the phrase that kept surfacing said it all:
“These are some Hairy Times we’re living in.”
The name stuck. Because it was true then, and it’s true now.
What began as satire evolved into something more grounded — and more urgent. Because the problem isn’t just that the truth gets lost in the noise. It’s that we’ve stopped talking to each other. Left talks to left. Right talks to right. And somewhere in the middle, the actual conversation — the one that might get us somewhere — never happens. The Hairy Times exists to be that middle ground. Not neutral. Not wishy-washy. But honest, direct, and open to every perspective that comes through the door with good faith and a willingness to engage. We believe the best ideas don’t come from echo chambers — they come from collision. The respectful, curious, sometimes uncomfortable kind.
The Newsroom
Every publication has a cast of characters. Ours just happen to be a little more colorful than most. Meet the team:
- Harry Tukis — the mysterious Senior Political Reporter. He knows more than he lets on. He always has.
- Barry Dingle — always hanging around the action, somehow, wherever it is.
- Bea Little — relentless on political accountability. She will not let it go. She shouldn’t.
- Buck Needsmoore — never satisfied. Which, in this business, is exactly the right disposition.
- Ben Dover — covering the financial storms nobody else sees coming, until they do.
- Dick Latete — headstrong on the Human Beat. He believes in people. Even when it’s hard.
- Seymour Butay — sees everything. Everything.
- Jim Balz & Harry Balz — the twin brothers covering sports and arguing about it constantly. They are both right. They are both wrong. It depends on the day.
- Hope Sinourheart — the moral compass of the newsroom. When things get murky, she points true north.
Two of them — Hope Sinourheart and Bea Little — are quiet tributes to the women who raised the man who built all of this.
The humor is intentional. The reporting is serious. That tension is exactly the point.
[Image: Newsroom atmosphere — vintage or stylized editorial desk photo to be placed here — I’ll provide a picture to insert after this has been built]
Our One Rule
We have opinions here. Strong ones. And we want yours — whether you agree with us or not. Especially if you don’t.
Disagreement, handled well, is how understanding actually grows. It’s how we stress-test ideas. It’s how we find the holes in our own thinking before someone else does. So bring your perspective. Bring your evidence. Bring your fire, even.
But there is one rule, and it is non-negotiable:
“Discuss the article. Not the person.”
That means debate the idea. Challenge the argument. Push back on the facts, the framing, the conclusion — push back hard if you need to. But the moment it becomes about the person writing or the person commenting, you’ve lost the thread. You’ve stopped contributing and started subtracting. We’ve all seen what that looks like online. We’re not doing that here.
We believe the best conversations happen when people feel safe enough to be honest. That means saying the thing you actually think, not the version of it that plays best to whichever crowd is watching. That’s the environment we’re building here — and every member who shows up with that spirit makes it stronger for everyone else.
The Community Standard at a Glance:
✅ Debate the idea. Challenge the argument. Question the facts. Welcome.
❌ Attack the person. Not welcome. Not ever.
What This Place Is
Independent. Honest. Accountable to our readers.
The Hairy Times doesn’t answer to a parent company, a major advertiser, or a political party. We answer to the people reading this. That’s not a marketing line — it’s how this thing was built from the start, and it shapes every editorial decision we make.
We cover what’s actually happening. We call things what they are. We’re willing to be wrong and willing to say so when we are. We think nuance is a feature, not a bug. We think context matters. We think you’re smart enough to handle a complicated story — and we’re going to treat you that way.
You’ll find news here. You’ll find opinion. You’ll find satire sharp enough to sting and analysis grounded enough to trust. Sometimes you’ll find all of those in the same week. What you won’t find is a hidden agenda, a preferred narrative being quietly protected, or a set of voices being quietly kept out.
Because the truth is, these truly are Hairy Times. The world is complicated, the stakes are real, and the noise is louder than ever. You deserve to know what’s actually going on — and you deserve a place to talk about it.
Your Seat at the Table
[Image: Community gathering or roundtable discussion — warm, inclusive visual to be placed here — I’ll provide a picture to insert after this has been built]
Here’s something the headlines won’t tell you: America has more in common than it looks. Not on everything — that would be too easy. But on the stuff that actually matters, in the places where people are actually living their lives, the distance between us is a lot smaller than the loudest voices on either side would have you believe. The Hairy Times was built on that conviction.
Left, right, center — you’re all welcome here. You’re all needed here. This place gets better with every voice that joins it. A publication is only as good as its community, and a community is only as good as the people in it. That means you. Specifically, actually, you.
Members of The Hairy Times don’t just read — they participate. They shape what we cover through the Suggestion Box. They push back. They add context. They share what they know. Membership here isn’t a transaction — it’s not a paywall with a receipt. It’s joining something. Something that needs you, and that will be a little bit better because you showed up.
We’re not a perfect publication. We’re building something, and we’re building it in real time, in the open, with our readers watching and contributing. That’s a little terrifying. It’s also exactly right.
“We started this because we believe in something. We keep going because of people like you.”
The conversation is already happening. The table is already set. There’s a chair here with your name on it — and the view from it is a lot better than watching from the outside.
Come for the news. Stay for the conversation. Help us build something worth reading.