…got a long way to go, and a short time to get there.
Lots of interesting things to see around my new neighborhood. It’s the side of the tracks, well, with the tracks and Union Terminal. There are factories, mostly Proctor and Gamble products, and trucking yards (I guess that’s what they’re called).
There’s something about semi trucks. I’ve always wanted to drive one, and who knows – maybe I’ll give up the mouse clicking someday and enroll myself in driving school.
Take a good look, it will never be this clean again
Moving day was a workout. Even though I hired professionals for the heavy lifting, I managed to create aches in my hands and legs by toting boxes up and down the steps.
Some big pieces couldn’t fit in the door through the alley, so the wardrobe (that acted as a media center,) and the big couch I grew to love, had to be left behind.
I sit here now, with most everything put away, and I feel pleased and exhausted.
Much simpler arrangement of living space, with lots fewer things.
My brother babysat the cableman yesterday as I spent the day getting my Dad to treatment. (He can move his left arm a little bit, yay). I returned to find more channels than I care to mention, and high-speed net.
After some noodling, I programmed Ellen* into the built-in DVR to record daily (Prince will be on today, I read) – but other than that, I have no idea what to record. Any suggestions would be appreciated.t
I promptly turned the TV off and surfed.
* the site intro is kind of funny, click it in the lower left if you go there
The sun came out today, and that was really, really nice.
Fun fact about Cincinnati: One moniker for the town is the Queen City. Why? Because there are seven hills surrounding the downtown, forming neighborhoods like Mt. Adams. They represent the points of a queen’s crown. Popularized by a poem “Catawba Wine” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
The best part about New Year’s Day is that parking meters are free.
Other good parts include: Seeing the movie Lost in Translation, eating chinese takeout, and hanging with friends out in the country.
A 4way (Chili, Cheese, Onions and Pasta), gravy fries with cheese, and a cheese coney
New Year’s Eve was cheesy, Cincinnati style.
Contributing to the kids section
Art came into town and we spent the day going to museums and enjoying the fine 60 degree weather avoiding the stadiums and Bengals’ loss to Cleveland.
The Contemporary Arts Center is all different now with new exhibits. None of the cool things from the opening are there any longer (no more manequins in orange jumpsuits). Such is the transient nature of these spaces. Sadly, the current works just don’t suit the venue well (or, vice versa).
Anyways, there was some (not much) fun stuff scattered about. I laughed when I saw the “Go Fags” pennant hidden in the ‘Art in Politics’ exhibition.
Since I couldn’t take photos in the gallery, I decided to create a knockoff in the kids exploration area upstairs. They have all these paints, markers, construction paper, glue and whatnot lying about ready to be used. They encourage visitors to make something and add it to the wall.
I wonder how long my masterpiece will stick around.
Relatively harmless and pretty.
It’s still coming down a little. Just a nice fluffy white snow.
It is Sunday and after hunger pangs gnawed at me, and scouring the cabinets, I went out and stocked up on all sorts of soups, frozen dinners and supplies for a proper dinner.
I normally don’t get the Sunday blues, but it’s a fuzzy cloud hovering about. I should’ve gone to see the Chorus sing carols, or Hairspray, but but but…
I think I’ll make a fire and start cooking the roast I bought. Food is a great motivator and mood enhancer.
Plus a star sighting: Bruce Vilanch! (Worst photo ever)
Last night – an evening with Wendy, Tom and Anne. They had a spare ticket to hear John Waters talk about his work and the musical Hairspray.
The theater was largely empty and we picked seats comfortably away from others, but within good viewing distance of the stage.
Waters was oddly personable. He shared the stage with the creative team behind the musical – Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman. (Shaiman was the mastermind who helped compose the ditties on Southpark: Bigger, Longer, Uncut). He was a stocky bundle of energy, peppering the night with bits of song at the piano. Wittman was the dry wit who seemed to be searching for a martini.
After listening to everyone speak about the musical, how it came to be, and other projects on tap, I was thoroughly flush with laughter. I had not planned to see Hairspray, but after hearing what other people have said and learning about the message and process, I am making a point of it.
Oh yeah, Anne is the celebrity spotter and pointed out Bruce Vilanch in the lobby (he plays Divine’s part and was there with the rest of the cast).
Every time I go out with this crew and we go to the theater, I feel hopeful and excited. Giddy and alive.
Another highlight was dinner, where I told tawdry tales of european bear runs, backrooms and bathhouses. Conversely, I caught up with everyone on the things that can happen in two weeks absence (which is actually, quite a lot).
Found crumpled up in my mailbox
I stepped out into the cool night to force myself awake, to eat when I wasn’t hungry, to battle the fatigue and shakes of being totally off-kilter from time zone leaps.
This note was stuffed in my mailbox, haphazardly. The response to the homicide (as it has been ruled) of Nathaniel Jones by Cincinnati Police.
At first I felt a bit exposed as a white man in a diverse neighborhood reading this note by streetlight. Exposed as the guy who is never present in the community, but who works downtown and has clients downtown and eats at restaurants downtown.
I want so desperately for things to change. For there not to be the need for this anger, these boycotts. I don’t want more riots.
Sitting on the couch reading the page over and over, I felt some twinge that this was a voice trying to do something without resorting to more violence. After councils and agendas fail, what are the options?
Ultimately I’m not sure how to fix what is wrong: Is this a war on drugs or procedures? The former issue will be buried in the media, but the brutality of the latter will color my hometown.
This isn’t good.