Author Archives: Denny

My First May Fest

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The oldest choral festival in North America will celebrate its 150th birthday next year. It came frightfully close to reaching that awesome landmark without me ever having been present at a single performance. Both it and I were spared what would have been a truly embarrassing occurrence by my attendance on Friday. I am speaking, of course, of Cincinnati’s May Festival which was first held in 1873.

The venue was Cincinnati’s Music Hall. The festival and building have an interesting and possibly unique relationship with the event actually being responsible for the existence of the structure. Before the May Festival became an annual event in 1967 it was generally held every other year. The first two were in 1873 and 1875. Both were held in a large building called Saengerfest Hall. Rain was a minor problem in 1873 and became a major one in 1875. It wasn’t that patrons got wet but that they could not hear the music during the brief time that it fell in 1873 or the much longer period of rainfall in 1875. Amplified by the tin roof of Saengerfest Hall, the rain forced the performance to be paused. It also gave rise to a project to construct the brick building that has been home to the festival since 1878.

Only one of this year’s four major performances fit into my schedule. It turned out to be probably the worst fit for my tastes. There are many things that divide the world’s population and one of them is opera. I am a member of the unappreciative group. But, even though it’s quite likely I would have enjoyed a different program more, there was much to enjoy in Friday’s performance. And I did. For one thing, I believe it was the first time I had ever watched a composer conduct his own composition. I guess John Adams conducting El Niño could be considered the black-tie version of a more-familiar-to-me performance by a singer-songwriter. As always, the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra sounded superb and the 100+ voices of the May Festival Chorus sounded as wonderful as I’d hoped. The main chorus sat through long periods of inactivity then rose in unison to sing. Each of them held a copy of the libretto so that their risings had the appearance of a large flock of attacking seagulls. I found myself enjoying that more than I probably should have.

Before the concert, I walked a few blocks from Music Hall to enjoy another Cincinnati tradition. Scotti’s isn’t quite as old as the May Festival but it’s working on it. After studying the stuffed menu for some time, I went with Lasagna Ala Don Giovanni.

Fried or Roasted Daily

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I usually try rather hard to avoid chain restaurants but here’s one I went to less than a week after it opened. Not the chain — which opened in 2012 — but the latest link. Florida-based Ford’s Garage opened its first Ohio restaurant in the former LeBlond Machine Tool Company powerhouse in Norwood on Thursday, May 5. I stopped in the following Wednesday.

The first I became aware of the chain was when I read an announcement about this one being planned for Cincinnati. Of course, any restaurant featuring ‘burgers and beers has a good chance of catching my attention but it sounded like this place had a little more going for it. It is an official licensee of the Ford Motor Company which allows it to use the Ford name and logo and it uses Ford cars for decoration. It was obviously a place I was likely to visit eventually so I decided to do it sooner rather than later.

The 1917 powerhouse, which was most recently occupied by a Don Pablo’s, is accessorized to resemble an early service station. Gas pumps and a pair of Model A Fords stand near the entrance and there is a Model T and another Model A inside. The cars and the building are of similar vintage. A Library of Congress photo shows the building when it was younger.

The building’s high ceilings allow faux Fords to circulate around the restaurant on a simulated assembly line and a stationary Model A hangs over the bar. A penny-covered wall holds forty beer taps. As I was taking the picture of the taps, a restaurant employee told me there were 21,004 pennies on the wall. I have a suspicion he made that up on the spot but I’m not sure so I’m repeating it.

Of course, it takes more than decor to make a restaurant. There’s a lot more than hamburgers on the menu but that’s sort of their featured item so that’s what I ordered. This is the quite tasty Mushroom & (Tillamook) Swiss. A couple of other things in this picture deserve mention. One is the shop towel napkin inside the hose clamp. The second is the frost-covered surface beneath the West Sixth Porter. About eight years ago I saw a similar setup in a bar in Kingman, Arizona, and figured it would be in every watering hole in the country before I got home. But this is the only other one I’ve ever seen which is not much help at all to my reputation as a futurist.

Despite it being a chain with a plethora of gimmicks, I basically liked the place. The chain is fairly small with twenty stores in five states and the gimmicks are mostly harmless (the napkins) or cool (the cars). One gimmick, however, seemed a bit overly silly to me. I noticed the funnel behind the bar and had vague intentions of asking about it when I overheard one of the bartenders talking about it with a visiting friend. He flipped an unseen switch to open a valve in the transmission (He called it the crankcase.) that allowed some liquid to drop into the funnel and into a glass placed below it. He said it was for a drink called the “Oil Change” although I’ve found no such drink on the menu. As I said, it struck me as quite silly but who am I (a fan of Max & Erma’s double-breasted beer taps) to judge.

Book Review
20 in ’21 and the YT Too
Denny Gibson

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Missed it by that much. I had this really great idea for a book title, and even figured out the story that would fit it. I would drive one way across the country on the Yellowstone Trail and the other way on US 20. I would do this in the year 2020, and the resulting travelogue would be perfectly described by that catchy title: 20 in ’20 and the YT Too. But COVID-19 played havoc with 2020 travel plans and the wonderful title’s “best if used by” date came and went. I made the planned trip a year later and adjusted the title appropriately. It’s admittedly not quite the same but it’s not horrible. Is it? Well?

As for the trip, it certainly wasn’t horrible. It was fantastic. And the resulting travelogue isn’t horrible either. Maybe not fantastic but definitely not horrible. I think calling it pretty good is legit. It’s got pictures.

It has more pictures than any previous Denny Gibson travelogue. It would also have the most pages if you took Granny’s letters out of Tracing a T to Tampa. I’ve been saying it has nearly 200 photos. I believe the actual count is 192 and “nearly 200” sounds much more impressive than “over 190”.

Like all the previous travelogues, the pictures are black and white. I started this project intending to use Amazon’s new improved color options. I even had a proof copy printed in premium color to see how it looked. It looked good. I asked myself if I thought other people would pay $30 or more for the book and answered, “Probably not”. Then I asked myself if I would pay $30 or more for the book and again answered, “Probably not”. So I backed away from the idea of a full-color glossy-paged thing of beauty and again embraced the idea of a gray-scale matte-paged thing of practicality. However, just as with the others, there is a Kindle version with color pictures. Electronic color is free.

The subtitle is a bit misleading. The documented trip doesn’t really start on a coast. It starts in Ohio, goes to the Atlantic, then the Pacific, then back to Ohio. The book sometimes refers to this as C2C2C2C (center to coast to coast to center) but that requires way too much explanation to work as a subtitle. The pictures on the front cover do a better job of describing this sequence than the subtitle does. From top to bottom they show a sign in Boston, Plymouth Rock, Pioneer Square, and a sign in Newport. These represent the termini of the pair of historic highways in the sequence they were reached. First is US 20’s east end then the Yellowstone Trail’s east end. The Yellowstone Trail’s west end is next followed by the west end of US 20. The book covers a whole lot of traveling before that first terminus and after the last one.

In summary, the book has a cool (but not as cool as it could have been) title, tells about crossing the USA twice on historic highways, has lots of B&W (though color was considered) pictures, and has an almost but not quite true subtitle. What’s not to like?

20 in ’21 and the YT Too, Denny Gibson, Trip Mouse Publishing, 2022, paperback, 9 x 6 inches, 189 pages, ISBN 979-8422405411.

Signed copies available soon through eBay. Unsigned copies available through Amazon.

Reader reviews at Amazon and Goodreads are appreciated and helpful and can be submitted regardless of where you purchased the book. All Trip Mouse books are described here.

Our Shared Story at CMC

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Joseph Jonas is thought to be the first Jew to actually settle in Cincinnati. That was in 1817. In 1821, he was one of a handful of men who purchased land for a cemetery so Benjamin Leib’s deathbed request that he be buried as a Jew could be met. The creation of that cemetery, the Chestnut Street Cemetery, is recognized as the event that formally established the Jewish community in Cincinnati. It was renovated last year and its rededication on September 26, 2021, marked the official beginning of the Jewish Cincinnati Bicentennial.

But it wasn’t a visit to the cemetery that led to this post. It was the “Our Shared Story” exhibit at the Cincinnati Museum Center that led to a visit to the cemetery. In 1821 Cincinnati really was a frontier town and the Chestnut Street Cemetery was not just the first Jewish cemetery in the state but the first west of the Alleghenies. In 1824, K.K. Bene Israel was established. Now known as Rockdale Temple, it is the oldest Jewish congregation west of the Alleghenies. Cincinnati’s Jewish community experienced great growth and had significant impact on the religion in the U.S. with things like major support for Reform Judaism and the founding of Hebrew Union College. The exhibit tells of this influence but has even more examples of the impact Cincinnati Jews had on the world at large.

Quite a number of community and business leaders are recognized. This picture is of a wall where several of those business leaders are identified. Some of the businesses are Manischewitz, Frank’s, Fleischmann’s, and Frisch’s. I got a kick out of seeing a “Jewish Cowboy” promotional record put out by Manischewitz. I got an even bigger kick out of listening to it on YouTube.

As befitting a place that started professional baseball, one Jewish business found success in sporting goods. The Cincinnati Red Stockings began play in 1869, the P. Goldsmith Sons Company was founded in 1875, and a Jewish player named Lipman Pike joined the Reds in 1877. Of course, there are now Jewish players in every professional sport and Jewish fans too as this Bengals yarmulke shows.

Chestnut Street Cemetery is less than a mile from the museum. A double-sided plaque contains information about the cemetery and the two centuries of Jewish history. The information panel visible in the opening photo says that Benjamin Leib’s grave is unmarked but believed to be “in the back left corner”. I’m guessing that means it’s in the left rear of this picture.

Treading the Trails of Trolls

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This is the second Thomas Dambo art installation I’ve visited, and, like my visit to the Kentucky Giants, waiting for good weather and available time was required. Things came together two Fridays ago, on April 22.

Dambo’s creations are always big, always made of repurposed material, and always have a story. “The Troll That Hatched an Egg” is installed at Aullwood Audubon near Dayton, Ohio. With Dayton being the home of the Wright Brothers, it makes sense that this story involves flying. It can be read here. Aullwood Audubon consists of a nature center and a farm with trolls in both sections. A trail connecting the two will be closed for another month or so meaning a short drive is required to see all of the trolls. Because of the distance, some may want to drive regardless.

I began my visit at the nature center. That’s kind of at odds with the storyline but that really isn’t much of a consideration. Inside the Education Center, Karen and Susan teamed up to take my money and provide me with a sticker, a map, and some insight. Karen is one of the volunteers that helped with constructing the trolls. She told me that the faces were made in Denmark and shipped to Dayton but that everything else was built on-site using materials collected before Dambo arrived. Construction took about a month. I had anticipated taking the shortcut over the creek but this group was having so much fun that I couldn’t bring myself to disturb them so took the longer — and probably safer — paved path. I did cross the creek on my return, however.

There are three trolls and a nest in the installation. Had I crossed the creek as originally planned, I would probably have seen the nest first. As it happened, my first view of any of the sculptures was the one in the opening photograph. That’s Bibbi learning to fly which is actually the climax of the story. Out of sequence or not, it’s a great first contact. The only thing comparable to Bibbi’s look of joy at flying is a kid’s look of joy at watching her do it. Karen had told me that this is the only time Dambo created a troll standing on one foot and some extra engineering was required. The observation tower was built to provide a view of the prairie but it is also a great place to see Bibbi’s launch.

I caught a glimpse of the eggs as I approached the nest and a better view as I entered from the other side. When I first saw some photos of this installation without having read any of the story, I thought that maybe these tanks were the closest Dambo could get to something that looked like a big egg. Later I realized that these tanks were just right for representing something dropped accidentally from an airplane. By the way, despite the story’s title, none of these eggs hatch. As I stood inside the nest, I took a photo that was posted to Instagram/Facebook/Twitter with the caption “One of these eggs is not like the others.” In case you missed it without wanting to, it is here.

From the nest, I headed back to the parking lot for the drive to the farm. Once there, it was an easy walk to where Bodil held another egg in her hand. Although only the beginning of my walk at the nature center had been on pavement, all of it was fairly level and clear. That was pretty much true of the walk to Bodil although there was a little more elevation change along the way. The walk to see Bo was a different matter.

Although well under half a mile, the walk to reach Bo was the longest excursion of the day. No portion is particularly steep but there is a steady descent to the resting troll which means a steady ascent on the return. Along the way, numerous exposed roots and a few exposed rocks provide ample opportunity for tripping. I say that not to discourage going but to encourage caution.

These last two pictures are clearly out of sequence. They are included for different specific reasons. The etiquette sign is here so you’ll know how to behave in case this is the only thing you read before visiting Bo, Bodel, and Bibbi. The other is included in case it isn’t the only thing you read and were wondering why it did not have a full-frontal shot of Bibbi taking flight like all the others.

I decided to make it an all-troll day by stopping at the Troll Pub for the first time. The pub shares a historic building with Wheelhouse Lofts. I don’t know where conversion and occupancy of the lofts stands but the pub has been in operation for four years. I also do not know why I haven’t stopped here before given that it is barely a block from one of my favorite Dayton establishments, The Barrel House. With The Barrel House that close and my first meal there being pretty good, I do expect to return. The building was constructed in 1868 by an agricultural implement manufacturer. Its later uses included making bicycles (Stoddard) and car parts (Dayton Motor Car Company) plus the assembly of some automobiles (Courier and Maxwell). Could Jack Benny’s car have been built here?

Book Review
The Lincoln Highway
Amor Towles

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This post is a direct violation of one of the claims made on this blog’s “About” page. There the claim is made that “You will not be seeing a review of the latest novel…”. I suppose I could claim that, at the time of this review, The Lincoln Highway: A Novel is no longer the absolute latest novel, but the fact that it is a “#1 New York Times Best Seller” means it is precisely the sort of mainstream major publisher offering I had in mind when I made that claim. My primary defense is that I was tricked into reading it. Realizing that not everyone will see that as a legitimate justification, I will try to minimize the impact of the violation by not doing a very good job.

The trick I refer to is the naming of a book after what is probably the best known of American Named Auto Trails. On publication, the name got the book quite a bit of attention in historic road circles. But the excited chatter that the publication triggered was not followed by a bunch of reports from thrilled readers. I was not all that surprised. I am, after all, quite familiar with just how little The Grapes of Wrath, an older book rather popular among road fans, deals with viticulture.

I honestly had no intention of reading the book until a friend, whose opinion I trust, described it as “a very intriguing story” while confirming that it contained “not a whole lot about the highway”. At about the same time, I started noticing various accolades and warm reviews being heaped on the book. I put myself on the library’s waiting list, picked up the book when it became available, and read it in spite of — not because of — its title.

There have been other books that have taken the name of a highway for their own. I have not been particularly pleased when the name of a multi-state auto trail is used for a book that is basically about just one of those states but I’ve been tolerant. I’m not quite as tolerant when such a name is grabbed for something that isn’t really about any portion of the highway at all. I am also a bit put off by the counting down of chapters and the use of em dashes instead of established quoting conventions. I see both as gimmicks.

However, even with the gimmicks and questionable name, the tale the book tells is a damned good one. I think my buddy Dale’s one-line review sums up my view as well so I’m just going to brazenly steal it: “Not a whole lot about the highway but a very intriguing story of young men in 1954.”

The Lincoln Highway: A Novel, Amor Towles, Viking (October 5, 2021), 6.375 x 9.5 inches, 592 pages, ISBN 978-0735222359
Available through Amazon.

Buddy, Can You Lend Me a Sign?

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When the American Sign Museum announced its “first-ever traveling exhibit” at the National Museum of the Air Force, I felt pretty confident that I would see it someday. I was less certain that I would see the signs the museum had loaned to the Cincinnati Shakespeare Company. Then, with almost no planning and a fair amount of luck, I saw both borrowed batches of brightness this week.

On Saturday, I learned that my previously made plans for the week had fallen through then almost immediately recalled an email about a museum member discount for the play featuring the loaned signs. I went to the CSC website looking for something later in the week but was surprised to find that a front-row seat was available for the next day (Easter Sunday) and that the performance was one followed by a Q&A with some of the performers. I snatched it up.

CSC’s production of The Comedy of Errors has a modern setting with the play’s Ephesus presented as a Las Vegas-like city. Wanting to add some Vegas-style glow to the stage and realizing that an outstanding repository of neon and such was just a few miles away, the CSC reached out to the ASM, and here (with permission and a phone camera) is the result. The play is hilarious and the cast is superb. In addition to the neon, modern touches include a number of songs to make it a sort of Shakespearean musical. All my roadie friends will be happy to learn that among those songs is a version of “Get Your Kicks on Route 66”. The production runs through April 30.

With some pictures of one set of borrowed signs in my pocket, it wasn’t long before I began thinking about a blog post on the subject, and almost immediately realized that any such post would benefit greatly by also including the other set of current loaners. On Tuesday, I headed to Dayton and, after breakfast at the nearby Hasty Tasty, the Air Force Museum.

Using the life of real sign maker William H. Hahn as inspiration, placards displayed with the signs tell the story of the fictional Joe Signman. On display are examples of the lightbulb, neon, and plastic signs Joe would have dealt with during his career.

My birthday has been the subject of a couple of recent blog posts so you might already be aware that the United States Air Force and I were established the very same year. I have about five months seniority on the Air Force and am all done celebrating. The museum, however, intends to talk up the big anniversary throughout the year. “The Signmaker’s Journey” will be there through October 10.

Book Review
The Sycamore Trees
Billy Tripp

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I got this book from Billy on May 7, 2015. I finished reading it on March 15, 2022. It is, as Billy himself admits and my elapsed reading time confirms, “a difficult read”. “Most people,” he says, “have understandably given up on it.” I was determined not to be like most people — no matter how long it took.

Although I never gave up on it, I obviously put it aside from time to time. Sometimes it was for a day or two and sometimes it was for weeks or months. Each pause in my reading of The Sycamore Trees basically lasted as long as I had something at hand that was not a difficult read. I believe that understanding the book’s chronology would have been difficult in any case. My many starts and stops aggravated it immensely.

The book has been called a semi-autobiographical novel. According to Billy, it tells about his early life. “The best story I can tell in words is there if one really wants to know it”, he says. The writing style has been called stream of consciousness. In some manner, “stream of consciousness” and “semi-autobiographical” might also apply to the giant metal sculpture that is his life work. Its picture is on the book’s back cover. It is what initially made me and most others aware of Billy’s existence. When I first happened upon the sculpture in 2005, I thought its name, “Billy Tripp’s Mindfield”, might have been the title of a misplaced Beatles song, and learning that William Blevins Tripp is the artist’s real name has not entirely erased that image.

Almost from the moment I started reading The Sycamore Trees, I saw similarities not only in the artist’s approach to the sculpture and to the book but in my reaction to both. I have viewed that sculpture multiple times and always marvel at the artistry and craftsmanship in pretty much every detail. Yet, when I step back and try to take in the entire thing, I’m overwhelmed. I can appreciate and maybe even understand the parts but not the whole. I have that very same relationship with the book.

In spots, the book does seem to be an unfiltered stream of consciousness. But most of the components of that stream are reasonably constructed thoughts. There are instances of rambling that are frustrating to a reader wanting to get on with the story but, for the most part, they seem to be trying to say something in as many ways as possible rather than saying the exact same thing over and over.

There was certainly some relief felt when I turned the last page but it was not the relief of finally being done with something unpleasant. In fact, part of it may have been the relief of realizing that reading the book had not been a waste of time (which was something I’d questioned more than once while the reading was in process). This is one of the few books I’ve read where a first reading equipped me to get a whole lot more out of a second reading. I’m not going to rush into it. I’ll wait at least until my next physical. If the doctor thinks I might have another seven years in me, I just might rewind and repeat.

Like most others, this review ends with an Amazon link. There are some used copies available at reasonable prices and even a couple claims of new copies at exorbitant prices. However, if you really want a copy and can possibly get to Brownsville, TN, I recommend visiting the Mindfield and getting the book from Billy. 

The Mindfield Years, Vol. 1: The Sycamore Trees, Billy Tripp, Mindfield Press (January 1, 1996), 5.5 x 8.5 inches, 736 pages, ISBN 0-9652238-0-9
Available through Amazon.

An Almost Easter Parade

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From the beginning, this blog has had a weekly post appearing on Sunday which means that a post has been published on each of the ten Easter holidays that the blog has existed. There have also been posts reporting on most Reds Opening Day Parades during that time. The two events are close but are usually at least a week apart so that there is no interference between the posts. This year a Major League Baseball owner-player dispute delayed the start of the season so that the Reds’ first home game and the associated parade occurred on Tuesday just five days before Easter. Interference has come to pass.

The first Easter post, in 2012, was really just a couple of paragraphs acknowledging the holiday. The 2013 post wasn’t much longer but was more interesting, IMO, with its mention of Eostre beer brewed by Howard Town Brewery. At the time, Eostre was listed on Howard’s website although none was actually available. Each year since then, I’ve checked the website hoping for a resurrection of the beer but instead have seen the beer’s name disappear completely. This year I searched the full internet for any mention of Eostre beer and discovered that at least four other breweries have made an Eostre beer over the years and that one apparently brewed some recently. Kent Brewery, in Birling, England, does not list the beer on its website but there are several recent check-ins of the brew on Untappd from pubs in the area. The connection between beer and Easter may not be as strong as the connection between beer and baseball but it does exist, and that’s enough, again IMO, to legitimize an Easter Sunday post about beer and baseball.

The beer-baseball connection is very strong. In fact, there is substantial evidence that baseball, as we know it, would not even exist without beer (See America’s Pastime Saved by Beer). Both were represented by more than one parade entry with an example of each shown here. The Cincinnati Vintage Base Ball Club plays the game by 1869 rules. Wiedemann Brewery was begun in 1870 and resurrected a few years ago. The splash of red at the left edge of the team photo comes from the better half of a well-dressed pair of nineteenth-century Reds fans. The national beer industry was represented in the parade right behind the Wiedemann wagon.

The powerful team pulling the Wiedemann entry were hardly the only horses in the parade. None, however, were better controlled than this pair.

Of course, an Opening Day Parade in Cincinnati would not be complete without fan organizations, precision drill teams, high school bands, and other musical groups. These photos are merely representative samples except for the drill team. As far as I know, the Wapakoneta Optimist Lawnmower Precision Drill Team is the only one of its kind.

And celebrities. A parade has to have celebrities. Former Reds’ All-Star shortstop Barry Larkin was the parade’s Grand Marshall, Channel 12 news anchor John Lomax is retiring at month’s end although I’m sure he won’t be disappearing, and the World’s Funkiest Reds Fans, Bootsy & Patti Collins, were bobbing to Little Willie John’s Fever blasting from the King Records float just in front of them.

Thanks, Findlay Market for another great parade.

Check out previous Opening Day Parade posts (2012, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2018, 2019) and previous Easter posts (2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021).

Celebrating

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Tuesday was my birthday, and there was a blog post that day more or less announcing it and revealing that I had removed from my body the only thing about it that was getting thinner. This post describes the far-ranging travel and wild celebration that filled the day. The party actually started in early morning when I met my buddy John for breakfast in Wilmington. I left there thinking I might follow US-22 all the way to Steubenville but a prediction of rain prompted me to switch to a shorter path using US-62 at Washington Courthouse, and congestion, as I neared Columbus, nudged me onto a faster expressway route. In fact, I gave myself up to the GPS at that point and Garmin kept me on I-71 until I reached US-30 near Mansfield.

I continued blindly following the voice in the box until a glimpse of a semi-familiar cheese shop brought me to my senses. Shisler’s Cheese House is a place I normally associate with the Lincoln Highway so, after picking up some Swiss and cheddar to munch on later, I sought out a few bits of the old road. I made a side trip in Canton but returned to the old Lincoln and the brick Baywood Street in Robertsville.

The target of my Canton excursion was Fat Head’s newest brewpub at the north edge of town. Fat Head’s started in Pittsburgh, PA, in 1992 and opened this location, their fourth, in 2018. That’s Black Knight Schwarzbier in the glass.

The place that the GPS had been leading me to was the Spread Eagle Tavern in Hanoverton. The picture at the top of this post is of the tavern’s sign. Hanoverton is a Lincoln Highway town so I’ve stopped at the Spread Eagle several times. I have eaten there once but had never stayed there. I corrected that by spending Tuesday night in the Van Buren Room. It’s the inn’s smallest in both space and price but was more than adequate for me.

Between check-in and dinner, I was able to see familiar rooms empty for the first time and make first-time visits to some other spaces. This second group included the lower level rathskeller which is currently open only on Fridays and Saturdays. The tavern first opened in 1837 but had fallen into disrepair until a major restoration took place in the late 1980s. Additions and improvements (such as converting the dirt-floored basement to the brick-lined rathskeller) happened, but all materials came from either the tavern itself or other badly neglected buildings from the same period.

I ate dinner at a table just out of frame on the left side of this picture and breakfast just out of frame on the right. I failed to get a picture of breakfast which is truly sad because it was one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had and it was included with the room. I was just too busy chatting with Kim, my server, about the building and other topics both related and not. I had been better prepared at dinner and did get a snapshot of my wonderful walleye by candlelight.