Santa Claus Is Climbing to Town

The title of this post is based on accepting that people climb down as well as up and that rappelling is a member of the climbing family. That’s because rappelling from the top of a twenty-three-story building is how the man in red entered Cincinnati last night. And that’s how he intends to enter the city every Saturday night from now until his other job has him busy all night long on the 25th. The daring drop is part of an event called Downtown Dazzle.

I reached Fountain Square with enough time before Santa’s arrival to walk a half-block one direction for dinner and a half-block in the other direction for a beer. Between the two, I snapped a picture of the city’s 56 foot Christmas tree which was officially lighted in a ceremony just yesterday.

There was a time when the Christmas tree really dominated Fountain Square during the holiday season. It still dominates the view from outside the square but it’s the skating rink that dominates the square itself. There has been a rink on the square since 2006 but it grew in size a few years ago. Last year, bumper cars were added and they’re back again this year. I was hoping to get my first look at the cars but, although they had operated earlier in the day, they were parked for Downtown Dazzle and 100% of the rink was available to skaters.

At a few minutes past 7:00, we were alerted to some “breaking” (but not very shocking) news. Reporters appeared on the square’s giant TV describing a UFO of some sort circling around downtown Cincinnati. When it was thought to have landed, searchlights played over several nearby buildings trying to locate the craft or its occupants. Three figures were soon spotted on top of the Huntington Center, and we all got to watch one reindeer, one Santa, and one elf descend to a much lower rooftop.

The instant that the trio reached the target roof and disappeared from sight, the first volley of fireworks exploded. For roughly twelve minutes, the Genius of Water and the Carew Tower were illuminated by the rockets’ red (and other colors) glare. Pretty cool! Be there at 7:00 PM on each of the next three Saturdays for more breaking news.


Although I had photos in hand, I did not identify my dinner spot when I mentioned it above. That was partly because it did not fit with describing the Dazzle and partly (maybe mostly) because I wanted to finish the post and go to bed. Now that deadlines are past and I’m no longer dozing off, I’m tacking it on.  Hathaway’s Diner has been operating in Cincinnati since 1956 but it wasn’t here. It was semi-deep inside the Carew Tower with no windows. The current owner has described it as a cave and I can’t disagree. It nearly closed in 2019 but a renegotiated lease kept it going. Then, just last month, they moved into a spot vacated by Frisch’s. It’s still in the Carew Tower but it now has windows and an entrance right on the street. There is also an entrance from inside the tower and that’s how I arrived. I exited directly to the street where, despite the chilly temperature, the diner was going hatless. I’d only eaten breakfast at the former location but went for a very good patty melt on my first time at the new, more visible and convenient, spot. I’ll be back. Probably for breakfast.

A Stranger Bought My Breakfast

Saturday the 13th was the twelfth anniversary of my retirement. On the following Monday, as I did on that first retired Monday a dozen years ago, I went to the nearby Original Pancake House for breakfast. When my boss retired a few years ahead of me, he said he would know he was really retired when he was enjoying a leisurely breakfast on a Monday morning and that worked for me too. Although it isn’t always at this pancake house, I do try to reverify my status on the anniversary of the first day of that first job-free week.

The first time, twelve years ago, I had a brief conversation with a lady at a table near mine. Either her name was Virginia or she was from Virginia. (My memory sometimes thinks it’s retired, too.) Like me, she had a book as a dining companion, and, also like me, she was retired and well aware that the day was the start of a workweek for many. Virginia (or an unnamed lady from Virginia) had started enjoying workless Mondays some years before me. I haven’t seen her since but I hope she’s still doing that somewhere.

This year, I sat at a booth with no other customers nearby and split time between my eggs and my book. When the waitress came by to pick up an empty plate and offer another coffee refill, I expected her to leave a check. Instead, she told me someone had already paid for my meal. I asked her to repeat it and know I stared at her like an idiot.

“Some sort of pay-it-forward I guess,” she offered with a smile. I tried to return the smile but suspect I just continued to look dumb.

I reached the end of a chapter in my book and turned to my phone to check on the world before leaving. At the top of my Facebook feed was a post from Ray Wylie Hubbard who had an anniversary of his own on Saturday. He turned 75 that day. Ray Wylie hasn’t retired — musicians rarely do — and had performed in Austin on his birthday. His post was one of those RWH things that seem kind of rambling but really aren’t. He talked about his birthday and aging and such. In the middle, he tossed out a line that I know I’ll come back to on my own 75th in a few months and probably on some other anniversaries, too. “…but no matter how old I feel or think I am, I come back to being extremely grateful for my time here and try to show each day the respect it deserves while I is cause at some point in the future, well..I ain’t.”

He closed by suggesting folks “find something to be grateful for” if “you got some trouble in mind” or “darkness swooped down on you”. I have neither trouble nor darkness but it sure is easy to find something to be grateful for.

My Gear – Chapter 22
Olympus OM-D E-M10 Mark III

This is a PIP: a Pandemic Inspired Purchase. It has pre-pandemic roots, but it was the lack of travel and its associated reasons to take pictures that triggered the purchase of another device for taking them. I know that’s not very logical but I think quite a bit of what we did, and continue to do, during the COVID-19 pandemic is like that — especially what we purchase. I’ll tell about the purchase before I say much about the camera.

There are two sorts of those pre-pandemic roots I mentioned. One is my experience with Olympus in the days before the digital revolution. I was extremely satisfied with the two OM-1s I owned. The wonderfully small size was one reason; reliability was another. A third reason, and one that I never missed an opportunity to mention, was their lack of dependence on battery power. Yes, a battery was required for the built-in meter, but everything else, including focus and shutter, was manual and would function just fine with a dead battery. I guess that’s the same sort of thinking that had me using only cameras with standard AA or AAA batteries for so long after I left 35mm film behind.

The second root can be traced to my curiosity about the new breed of “mirrorless” cameras even though I dislike the name for the same reason I dislike the label “unleaded gas”. The idea of feeding an electronic viewfinder with the same information going to the image recording sensor makes sense but my experience with the concept had not been encouraging. I’d owned a couple of what used to be called “bridge” cameras because (I think) they bridged the gap between compact cameras and DSLRs. They were practical and yielded satisfactory images, but the sluggishness and low resolution of the eye-level viewfinders left me unimpressed. Curiously, I didn’t whine about it in any of the bridge camera My Gear posts (DMC-FZ5, DMC-FZ8, DMC-FZ70). I did mention the sluggishness of the DMC-ZS40 despite it being much improved from the older cameras. By then I’d gotten used to a real SLR again. I now got to wondering just how good were the EVFs in these even newer offerings?

With that background, two things converged in the stay-at-home days of 2020 to make the purchase happen. One was my constantly walking past two containers of coins in my bedroom. For a little more than twenty years, they had frequently, though not regularly, received handfuls of pocket change. The largest, a jug I’d started on after a snack can had become full, was too heavy to move, and I asked myself just what the purpose was. When I’d started the hoards, the possibility of one day dumping them out for gas or groceries was real. That really was no longer the case, and, unable to explain to myself why they were there, I decided to empty them. I began taking the coins to a nearby counting machine where I had the option of getting 93% of their value in cash or 100% of their value in Amazon credit. I went for all the value all the time. Then, just as my Amazon credit balance was reaching an all-time high, Olympus announced a new E-M10IV and folks started discounting E-M10IIIs.

I am surprised to see that Olympus still offers the OM-D E-M10 Mark IIIs (not sure what the ‘s’ means) with a 14-40mm lens for $600. The E-M10 Mark IV is available with the same lens for $700. In September 2020, I bought the pictured kit, which includes a 40-150mm lens that Olympus currently offers for $200, for $598 in what was once pocket change. The included case and SD card were icing.

I was quite impressed when the kit arrived. Although I didn’t list it as a “root”, I think I was just about as curious about the Micro Four Thirds form factor as I was about “mirrorless” viewfinders. The camera’s size reminded me of those distant OM-1 days. Other things about the E-M10 also reminded me of the OM-1 including the general feel and the perceived quality. Photo quality was also good with a sensor of approximately 16 megapixels. With the pancake style 14-40 lens mounted, the camera fits into many pockets and another pocket might hold the 40-150.

So, with all those good things going for it, why has it taken me more than a year to finish this post? The short answer is “lack of use” and the reason for that lack of use is almost the camera’s only negative and it is actually just a personal problem. Even with the tiny size of my cast of cameras, it wasn’t easy finding a role for the E-M10 to play.

The Olympus shares work with a Nikon D5100 and a Panasonic DMC-ZS40. Note that none of these cameras is at all high-end. All three are more or less entry-level for their type. When size is no object, the Nikon wins. It’s hardly the best camera in THE world but it is the best camera in MY world. When size is very much an object, the Panasonic wins. It’s not only the smallest of the three but with a 30X (24–720 mm equivalent) zoom, it is the most versatile. Of course, when the word versatile enters the conversation, my Pixel 4a phone demands attention. It’s almost always at hand and I must reluctantly admit that it does a mighty fine job of taking pretty good pictures in pretty bad situations.

I did find a role for the Olympus during my most recent road trips, but before I reveal what that is I’m going to get in a couple of digs. One is the major flare seen with backlit subjects. This is something it shares with the Panasonic and I theorized it was due to their smallish sensor size. I haven’t totally thrown that possibility out but people more knowledgeable than me have suggested it might be lens quality. The actual problem at the heart of my second dig was operator error but the camera encouraged it. At a point when I really intended to seriously put the camera to use, I found the camera’s field of view so narrow that I simply scrapped my plans and used the Nikon in situations I had thought to use the Olympus. I blamed this on the Micro Four Thirds system. I eventually figured out that the default setting of the rather prominent Fn2 button is to activate 2X digital zoom and that I had apparently pressed it at some point. It was a misunderstanding brought on by unfamiliarity with the camera (which I’m still drenched in) but it was irritating nonetheless.

That role I found for the Olympus? Car seat companion. I like to take road pictures; always one-handed and often, though not always, through a dirty windshield. Doing this with the Nikon or Pixel is too awkward to even think about except on an empty highway or at a dead stop. The Panasonic is actually pretty good at it — once it’s fired up. But firing it up, even when it is on and just sleeping, is a sluggish affair. When sleeping, the Olympus wakes up rather quickly with a touch of the shutter button. It is a bit heavier than the Panasonic but is nearly the same size with a rear screen that is at least the Panasonic’s equal. Even with my digital zoom interfering faux pas, it was good at this and it became even better once I rectified my goof.

As shown by that digital zoom thing, I’ve made little effort to understand what is obviously a very capable and somewhat complex camera. Heck, there might even be a setting that would vanquish that backlit flare. The Nikon D5100 has been in fairly heavy use for over eight years and I know I still don’t understand half of its capabilities. I don’t expect to master the Olympus E-M10 anytime soon but I do expect to take some OK pictures with it. All in all, I’m pretty happy with my PIP.

My Gear – Chapter 21 — Garmin zūmo 396LMTS

Another Covered County Covered

When I took in Preble County Covered Bridges a couple of weeks ago, there was actually another Ohio county in the running for the “honor”. Fairfield County rivals Ashtabula County for the number of covered bridges and is much closer. Of course, Preble County is closer still and I decided to save Fairfield for a day when there was a chance that the trees would be more colorful. Friday was that day but, even though there were some mighty colorful trees here and there, I never did find that picturesque little bridge framed with orange and gold that I envisioned.

Unlike the rather spontaneous Preble County jaunt, I actually did some advance planning for this outing. I started at the Charles Holliday Bridge (#1) on the Millersport Lions Club Sweet Corn Festival grounds. This happens to be bridge #1 in the Fairfield County Covered Bridge Trail Guide but I did not visit the bridges in the sequence they are numbered in the guide. I started with the bridge farthest from my home then hit the rest in a very crude horseshoe pattern. The numbers following each bridge name are from the guide, however.

My second stop was at the R.F. Baker Bridge (#12) behind the Fairfield Union School. It’s not visible from the parking lot but directions from a friendly student got me there. This is the closest thing I found to that bridge framed by autumn colors in my mind’s eye. You have probably figured out that this is the bridge in the opening photograph and you may have also figured out that it is my favorite.

The John Raab Bridge (#8) is on private property and some distance from the road. I think it was possible that I could have gotten permission from the owner for a closer look but I just settled for a shot from the road with a longer lens mounted. That lens was still on the camera when I started to pull away and spotted a fox scurrying across the open field.

I made my Preble County bridge post a member of the My Cabbodles series but not this one. The reason is that two of Fairfield County’s listed bridges are inaccessible inside a park that is temporarily closed. I believe the address I had matches that of the pictured house although I saw nothing that indicated a park. Nonetheless, I think Mae Hummel Bridge (#9) and Shade Bridge (#14) are around here somewhere.

Only four of Fairfield County’s seventeen covered bridges remain at their original locations and three of them are pictured here. At first glance, I thought all three might have had the same builder but that’s not so. The Johnston Bridge (#7) was built by Augustus Borneman while the Mink Hollow Bridge (#11) was built by Jacob Brandt. No builder is identified for the Hanaway Bridge (#3).

Both of these bridges have been moved, but they still cross water and they are still in use although traffic is now pedestrian-only. The George Hutchins Bridge (#2) serves foot traffic in Alley Park while the McCleery Bridge (#10) helps folk cross Fetters Run on the Lancaster Bike Path.

The John Bright #2 Bridge (#6) has also been moved, still crosses water, and serves pedestrians. Like the McCleery Bridge, it is on Fetters Run and the Lancaster Bike Path. Its description states that it is the “gateway to Lancaster Festival concerts at Ohio University”. I’m guessing those concerts take place in the large open field beyond the bridge.

Rock Mill Bridge (#13) is the fourth covered bridge in Fairfield County surviving in its original location. The mill after which it is named also survives right next to it. The Fairfield County Covered Bridge Trail Guide claims that “At one time, every U.S. Embassy in the world displayed a photo of Rock Mill Bridge.” I haven’t yet found anything online to explain or confirm that so I’ve sent a query to the Fairfield County Ohio Visitors and Convention Bureau and will update this with any information I receive.

Here’s a bridge that has been relocated to a spot that once had water but no longer does. The Hartman #2 Bridge (#4) now sits astride what was once the Ohio & Erie Canal between Lock 11 South and Lock 12 South. The stone walls of Lock 12 South can be seen beyond the bridge in the third picture.

The Shryer Bridge (#15) is on private property with no obvious place to pull over so I really did grab a driveby shot of it. Inside Sycamore Creek Park, the relocated Zeller-Smith (#17) serves as the entrance to an arboretum. The Stemen House Bridge (#16) was relocated and shortened from 72 to 36 feet in length. Damaged and decayed parts were discarded during the move but the half that was saved was so good that now stands as the only public covered bridge in the county open to vehicles.

I had to add the word “public” to the previous sentence since this privately owned bridge is open to vehicles driven by the owner or friends. The Hizey Bridge (#5) once crossed Poplar Creek but has been moved to form part of an impressive private driveway.

If that park is ever opened and those two other bridges become accessible, I suppose I might go see them. Then I can republish these pictures as a caboodle. But the truth is that I was a little disappointed in the covered bridges of Fairfield County and it had little to do with the two hidden bridges or not finding the perfect wall of orange and gold leaves. It had to do with there being only two drivable bridges (one if you’re me) in the lot and so many that weren’t actually bridges at all anymore. By that, I mean those sitting in fields that don’t cross over anything that needs crossing. By contrast, six of the eight Preble County bridges were drivable and all nine of the Ashtabula County bridges I visited in 2019 were drivable. There are ten other covered bridges in Ashtabula County that I have not visited and about which I’ll make no claims.

On the other hand, even those that were sitting in someone’s yard, crossing nothing and accessible by no one, had escaped destruction. I’m reminded of something Tod Swormstedt of the American Sign Museum often says. According to Tod, the best way to preserve a sign is in its original setting doing what it was designed to do. Preserving them in museums and private collections isn’t nearly as good but is better than the scrap heap. I guess that applies to bridges, too. I prefer my historic bridges in the wild carrying vehicles over some body of water just like they were designed to do. Parks and private settings aren’t nearly as good — but they’re better than the scrap heap.

Book Review
Vinyl Village
Jim Grey

Jim Grey blogs, collects film cameras, uses those cameras, develops the film himself, walks, bikes, and observes. Put them together and what have you got? This book.

It’s a photo essay which is is something Grey has produced twice before; first in 2017’s Exceptional Ordinary then in 2018’s Textures of Ireland. There are technical differences between this and the earlier offerings that I’ll get to in a bit but I’ll first mention what seems to be the biggest departure. In the other two books, the photos were themselves the stars and their subjects of secondary importance. That’s not to say that it didn’t matter what appeared in the photographs but that the subject of the essay was not the subject of any of the pictures. An easy to describe aspect of that is the fact that each photo in the earlier books could stand alone. With Vinyl Village, they stand as a group. The subject of the pictures IS the subject of the essay.

That’s almost certainly what Grey means when he says, “I’ve never tried to tell a story with photographs before, not on this scale.” A photo essay is defined as “a group of photographs arranged to explore a theme or tell a story”. All three of Grey’s published photo essays explore a theme; only this one tells a story.

It is a story about the neighborhood in which he lives, and where he interspersed COVID-triggered working-at-home with some calorie-burning walking-near-home. We are introduced to the neighborhood as a collection of modestly priced homes in an area of pricier residences. A big attraction is access to very good schools at somewhat bargain prices. Although the location makes them bargains, they are hardly shabby and actually look quite attractive — from the front.

Construction is wood frame with vinyl siding and brick accents. Those accents, however, are almost entirely on the front of the houses. The other three sides are the focus of the story. Part of Grey’s story is about these sides being exposed by the curving streets, numerous retention ponds, and open spaces created by electric and gas lines.

The rest of the story is about those exposed surfaces and areas being a long way from handsome. The story’s name comes from the large expanses of vinyl siding exposed by those curves and ponds. Windows are few and from the outside often appear to be placed rather randomly and often awkwardly. Many side walls are unbroken by any windows at all.

There are few words but lots of pictures. The pictures are black and white and large. The most common arrangement is two 4×6 inch photos to a page. Where words do appear, they typically share a page with one of those 4×6 photos. Occasionally a photo gets a page all to itself which lets it grow to approximately 5 1/2 by 8 1/4 inches. Grey has changed publishing platforms (from Blurb to Amazon) for this project which results in some physical differences from the previous essays. The pages are slightly smaller (8×10 vs 8.5×11) and the paper used is uncoated rather than semi-gloss. Photo quality does suffer but again it is the subject of the picture that is important. The pictures are here to document the subject and illustrate Grey’s story, not to be admired in and of themselves. It’s an assignment they handle quite well.

Jim handles his own assignment, that of telling a story with pictures, quite well also. Beauty may be only skin deep and curb appeal only as thick as a brick but that can be enough if a great personality or a highly rated school is involved.

Vinyl Village, Jim Grey, Midnight Star Press (October 16, 2021), 8 x 10 inches, 64 pages, ISBN 979-8498035475
Available through Amazon.