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.

More Smooth As Glass

About a month ago, a visit to Jack Pine’s Glass Pumpkin Festival yielded a blog post in which I lamented losing an SD card containing “phenomenal photos”. That card has reappeared and, even though my claims of phenomenality will suffer for it, I’m super happy to share some of its contents. For those who missed it or want to refresh their memories, the original post is here.

In my lament, I mentioned ice cream and music, and here is proof of both. The ice cream was quite good. Perhaps because it wasn’t overly pumpkiny. So was the music, but, sadly, I don’t know the name of the fellow entertaining us. If I heard it at the festival, I’ve forgotten, and, while the online schedule is still accessible, it shows a gap between 2:00 and 4:30. The picture was taken about 3:25.

Numerous artists were offering items for sale at the festival and not everything was made of glass and resembled a pumpkin. There were also some vendors selling food at the festival but none that made me want to take a picture.

But, yeah, glass items dominate the festival. It is, after all, hosted by a glass studio. At first glance, things that resemble pumpkins might also seem to dominate the festival, but I’m not so sure. Outside of the Jack Pine Pumpkin Patch, there sure are lots of non-pumpkin pieces.

Several artists were at work inside the studio making glass pumpkins. They would frequently hold out their work as it progressed and explain what they were doing. These non-stop demonstrations alone were easily worth the drive and the price of admission, and the items produced really are phenomenal even if these pictures aren’t.    

Driving Lessons

During the writing of Tracing A T To Tampa, the fact that I had never driven a Model T Ford began to bother me more and more with every passage that referred to some detail about the car that “put America on wheels”. I had seen plenty of Model Ts and had ridden in a few but every comment that I made about the T’s operation came from observation and “book learning”. I wondered about how accurate I was being.

The T that I traced to Tampa is believed to be the touring car in the first photograph which belonged to my great-grandparents. The coupe is a car they owned many years after the Florida trip. It is currently in the possession of an uncle and I considered bugging him for driving lessons but in the end, I went for the Model T Driving Experience at the AACA museum in Hersey, PA. That gave me access to multiple cars in an environment set up for novice drivers. I combined it with a few other items from my to-do list and made a road trip that is documented here. The driving experience is included in day 4 but not much is said about the actual driving. That’s what prompted me to make this blog post.

This picture is one I used in the trip journal. It shows the four cars that students were to drive. I drove the green, yellow, and red cars but the black car, actually a roadster pickup truck, conked out before my turn came. It was replaced by another black roadster pickup, but the top stayed up on the replacement. That’s it in the b&w photo at the top of the article.

The image at left was taken from the “Ford Model T Instruction Book”. Model Ts were often delivered by train or other means directly to a new owner with nothing resembling today’s dealer prep (and accompanying charge). The 45-page book provided all the information necessary to prepare, operate, and maintain what might be the very first powered vehicle the owner had ever seen.

Our cars had all been prepped, of course, and all were equipped with electric starters. Plus, we would have the advantage of a classroom presentation with visual aids. Against the open doorway, the visual aids weren’t a whole lot easier to see in person than they are in the photograph but we all had copies available in a handout. The use of the spark advance and battery/magneto switch in starting the engine was discussed but today the instructors would take care of those details. Students would be dealing with the hand throttle, the steering wheel, and three pedals.

It seemed everyone was familiar with a hand throttle from a tractor, lawnmower, or something similar. And everyone recognized the steering wheel. It is one of just two controls that have maintained the same function from Model T to Tesla although neither can be operated with modern instincts. Most modern cars have a steering ratio of 12:1 or more; the ratio for Ts is 4:1 or 5:1. It is essentially the only thing on a Model T that can be called quick.

This picture of a Model T’s three pedals appeared in the handout. The bulk of student brain activity would be focused on these. ‘C’, ‘R’, and ‘B’ markings identify them as clutch, reverse, and brake. The brake pedal is the other control that technically retains the same function in modern cars as in the T. However, like the steering wheel, how well it performs that function is dramatically different. Today’s brake pedals are mostly power-assisted and hydraulically connected to large disc brakes at all four wheels that will bring a 3,000-pound 60 MPH vehicle to a halt in forty yards or so. A Model T’s brake pedal is mechanically attached to bands that tighten around a shaft in the transmission that will bring a 1,200-pound 10 MPH vehicle to a halt eventually.

Although there is nothing quite like the reverse pedal in modern cars, its function is simple and easy to understand. With the car stopped and no other pedal pressed, pushing it to the floor causes the car to move backward. The idea of “no other pedal pressed” would really apply to all of the driving we would do on this day. The pedals would be pressed one at a time.

Clutch pedals in modern cars are becoming increasingly rare but they do exist and it’s tempting to think that knowing how to operate a modern manual transmission will help in operating a Model T. Not a chance. Almost every instinct developed by driving manual transmissions will only get in the way when driving a Model T. I will expand on this later but today we would be doing all of our driving in low gear which meant that the clutch was engaged with the pedal pressed and disengaged with the pedal released. Yes, driving in low gear did translate to driving at low speed and I don’t doubt that some readers will think that lame. Pshaw. With 4:1 steering in a fairly primitive car with totally unfamiliar controls, 15 MPH was plenty fast.

A Q&A session followed the presentation then we moved outside where instructors reviewed parts of what we had learned using the real Model Ts as visual aids. Next, an instructor climbed into the driver’s seat of each car and a student joined them for a lap around the course as a passenger. The “course” was an unmarked path around a closed-off portion of the museum grounds with an uphill section on grass and a downhill section on asphalt.

The green roadster was the first car I climbed into but I have no pictures of me as either a passenger or driver. Even though I’d read about it and had ridden with others doing it, the strangeness of holding that clutch pedal down to keep moving didn’t completely register until it was my foot doing the holding. I also was a little surprised at how much the throttle was used. It was positioned for easy fingertip access while holding the wheel and adjustments were required for climbing the small hill and at other points too. I also did a lap as a passenger in the yellow speedster. The instructor thought that prudent because of some play in the steering. I managed to hand off my camera for the speedster drive but only have a picture from that first lap. My drives in both of these cars went well in that I didn’t run into or over anything and I didn’t stall either one. That streak would not continue.

Helpful volunteers did snap pictures of me at the wheel of the other two Ts, both of which I managed to stall. In fact, I stalled the cool-looking furniture van twice. At ages of 94 to 108 years, these vehicles are entitled to some idiosyncrasies and they do indeed have them. For the speedster, it was steering. For the red van, it was a dead spot in the throttle. Twice, when I wanted a little more oomph, I moved the throttle a little when it needed to be moved a lot. I have a different excuse for stalling the black pickup. Model Ts have a parking brake of sorts but using it was not part of the day’s normal procedure. There was no need in the level lot. For some reason, the previous driver had seen fit to set it but that did not keep me from reaching the beginning of the hill before the combination of brakes and incline started to bog things down. The instructor figured that out just as the T’s engine chugged to a halt. With that exception, my drive in the little pickup was understandably the best of the day. Operating that strange clutch and using the hand throttle never became 100% natural but, as it is with most things, the more I did it the better I became.

I said I would expand on clutch operation and I’m going to use a detail from an earlier picture to help with that. I’m also going to take the opportunity to describe briefly what happened when I stalled those cars.

Until it is up and running, a Model T’s engine needs to get its electrical power from a battery. A switch on the dash-mounted wooden box controls that. Following a stall, the instructor would flip that switch to battery and maybe make some adjustments to the throttle and spark advance. They would then tell me to press the starter button. In the picture, it’s on the floor. In other cars, it was on the verticle panel below the seat. Once the engine started, the instructor switched things back to magneto operation and away we’d go.

As I’d recently been thinking of my great-grandfather driving a Model T to Florida and back, at some point I began to think about him with his foot pressed to the floor for the whole trip. That really wasn’t required and that lever that the instructor is holding in the picture above is part of the reason. Pulling it all the way back activates small drum brakes on the read wheels. That’s what was going on when I stalled the pickup. Moving it all the way forward enables high gear. With high gear selected, pressing the clutch pedal to the floor still engages low gear, releasing it partway disengages the transmission, while releasing it all the way engages high gear. So, when driving to Florida, push that lever forward, press and hold the clutch pedal until you’re moving at a decent clip, then slowly release it. Adjust speed with your fingers as necessary and let your feet relax.

The museum does not call what they offer a school. It’s a Model T Driving Experience. The certificate I received simply acknowledges that I “completed” the experience with no indication of how good or bad I did or how badly I frightened the instructors. It does not authorize me to do anything whatsoever and that includes bragging about driving four different Model Ts in low gear without stalling two of them. I’m doing that entirely on my own.

Smooth As Glass

Not long ago, I read about Jack Pine’s Glass Pumpkin Festival in a Make The Journey Fun blog post and thought it interesting but just a bit far away for a casual outing. Then City Beat published an article on it that renewed my interest but didn’t make it any closer. The weather, however, did. Right on cue, temperatures plummeted into the 40s on Wednesday, the first day of autumn, and stayed there Thursday. Possible rain was predicted for Saturday and Sunday. Grasping at Friday’s sunny and 70 seemed a very logical thing to do and the two-hour drive to the festival became a very logical way to do it.

I had not signed up in advance so didn’t make it into the reserved parking area but walking from the overflow area was hardly a hardship and the $5.00 parking fee was the only thing even remotely resembling an admission charge. That’s Pine’s studio and production facility in the first picture. The “pumpkin patch” pointed to by the arrow in front of the biggun in the second picture is shown in the third. It’s where pumpkins and other products of the Pine studio are displayed and offered for sale.

Pumpkins and pumpkin-shaped items are naturally the biggest sellers at this time of year. The theme for the 2021 Pumpkin of the Year is “Celebrate Life”. A number of them are lined up in the second picture. No two alike, but no two totally dissimilar.

There are some real pumpkins in the patch and some of those are quite impressive.

Glass pumpkins outnumber the organic kind and will undoubtedly outlast them, too.

After making a pass through the Pumpkin Patch, I roamed among the other vendors taking glorious photos of the sunlight sharing itself with their glass and metal art. I captured a pumpkin ice cream cone held high in front of the place where I bought it and took pictures of the fellow who played guitar and sang while I ate it. I entered the studio and recorded several phenomenal photos of the talented glass blowers and the gorgeous objects of art they produced. Then I misplaced the SD card containing those photos. This photo taken with my phone is all I’ve got. The festival continues through today (Sunday) so there’s time for you to take your own pictures. Or find some in the parking lot.

ADDENDUM 27-Aug-2022: The chances of finding pictures in the parking aren’t as good as they once seemed. The lost SD card was found and turned into its own post for Halloween. It’s here

Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball 2021

I saw my first vintage base ball game right here in Ohio Village back in 2010. It was a July 4th Ohio Muffins intrasquad game. The Muffins might be the oldest vintage base ball team in the country and are definitely the first to play a regular schedule. They are currently celebrating their 40th year of existence. The big end of summer gathering of teams called the Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball Festival was well established when I saw that 2010 game but this is my first time attending. This is the 29th festival after a COVID19 triggered cancelation last year.

The game is played with the rules, equipment, and courtesy of the 1860s. There are no big padded gloves or other protective equipment. Pitching is underhanded with no calling of strikes or balls. The idea was to put the ball in play, get some exercise, and have some fun. Having fun today includes dressing the part by both players and umpires.

There are 25 teams participating in the festival with games taking place on four diamonds. The teams come from places as far away as Tennessee and Minnesota and their friends, families, and idle players make up a large part of the audience although there are a fair number of pure spectators like me. Note that the event is called a festival rather than a tournament. The goal, remember, is to have fun. There are no trophies and no official winner beyond the individual games

Without the need to call strikes and balls, the (there’s only one) umpire’s main job seems to be identifying foul balls.

Runs and outs can only happen after a ball is hit. Runs have always been scored only by crossing home plate. Then as now, a runner can be retired with a tag or a force-out, and catching a hit ball in flight seems to have always resulted in an out. In 1860 and in Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball, catching a ball on the first bounce also counts as an out. I’m guessing that went away when padded gloves appeared.

At the end of each game, the teams line up along the base paths and a member of each team gives a short speech that usually has a few jokes and a compliment or two. Then each team gives three huzzahs before they pass each other and shake hands. Yeah, that’s the way it should be done. Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!


I’d heard about an Umbrella Alley in Columbus so decided to take a look while I was there. It was rather nice but, after seeing the Umbrellas in Batesville, also rather underwhelming with a total of thirty-nine umbrellas. I thought the giraffe at the nearby Lego store was cooler.

Cincy Burger1/2Week

The first day of this year’s Cincinnati Burger Week was basically over before I got back into town and I spent the second day otherwise engaged. It was Wednesday before I made my first CBW 2021 stop but I still managed to equal last year’s number of new-to-me ‘burger joints (3) along with one repeat. 2020 saw my first visit to the lone repeat so it was an almost-new-to-me burger joint. The 2021 Cincinnati event is about a month earlier than the 2020 event and I found no mention of the statewide involvement that was touted a year ago. I have no idea what that means. It’s just something I noticed.

That first stop was at Blondie’s Sports Bar & Grill where I washed down their offering with a Fat Tire. That offering was a “Burger served in a toasted pretzel bun, bacon, sautéed onions, and beer cheese.” Good eating.

Stop number two was at a new-to-everybody place. Miamiville Trailyard has been open only a couple of months. The ‘burger is “a custom blend of fresh Chuck, Brisket, and Short Rib. Served on a toasted brioche bun with provolone, onion straws and a delicious bourbon Sriracha sauce.” I had mine with a Garage Beer from Braxton Brewing. The Trailyard is right next to the Little Miami Scenic Bike Trail and has a really big yard that I think I’d like to sip some more beer in before the summer is over.

On Friday, I joined friends Rick and Mary at Frenchie Fresh where ‘burgers and birthdays (Mary’s) collide. This was my repeat from last year. Even though the location was a repeat, the ‘burger was not. That’s a Triangle Bacon Black and Blue Burger (blackened with Triangle bacon, barbecue sauce and blue cheese) which was accompanied by a Guinness. Frenchie Fresh offered three choices this year and by pure coincidence, we tried them all. It was the TBBBB for me, Le Pig City for Rick, and Le Gene Kelly for Mary. Strange but true.

I had my final ‘burger of the week at that southeast outlier on the map. It’s the Ugly Goat Social Club which puts it near the edge of the alphabet as well as the edge of the map. They describe their hamburger as an “Unusual Spice Combo In Ground Beef & Pork, Topped With Cheese.” Quite good and I’m thinking that if all the patties I tried were served naked, this one would likely win the flavor contest. I chased this one with an event sponsor’s beer.

Cincinnati Burger week really is a week long, Monday through Sunday, which means it will still be going on when this blog entry is published. And that means you can read this and still down a few of these gems before closing time. ¡Arriba, arriba! ¡Ándale, ándale!

Live Music From Dead Man String Band

I have experienced very little live music during the last fifteen months, and I miss it. I was looking forward to attending a Dead Man String Band performance on Fountain Square last month but it fell victim to some serious wind and rain. It was rescheduled for June 4 and this time the weather cooperated in wondrous fashion. It was not, however, the same show I would have seen on May 7 if the weather had not misbehaved so badly back then. The “band” underwent a major transformation that included a tripling in size. You’ll see.

A difference I don’t think had anything to do with the transformation of the headliner, was a change in openers and an increase from one to two. I apologize to Loop Man Dan for catching just a smidgen of his set as I walked through the square on the way to dinner. I returned in time to hear about half of Nick Baker’s performance. Both were new to me and everything I heard sounded good.

Wikipedia says that a string band is “an old-time music or jazz ensemble made up mainly or solely of string instruments”. The original Dead Man String Band was an ensemble of one. Rob McAllister played some pretty fancy bass and lead parts on an electric guitar while wearing a mask and playing bass and snare drums with his feet.

Rob is still at the heart of the band but, with the addition of John Castetter on bass and Eric Osborne on fiddle, it more closely fits the standard definition of a string band.

Rob calls this the acoustic version of the band and has written a ton of new music for it. That even includes some banjo tunes so that the instrumentation matches that of a traditional string band a little closer. Tonight there was no snare or hi-hat; just a tambourine for that left foot. His face is still partially hidden but now it’s by a beard instead of a mask.

As I circled the crowd on the way out, two different groups spotted my camera and volunteered as subjects. One was seated at a table at the back of the widely spaced crowd and the other was listening from the side of the stage. That’s something that has not happened in a long time and it felt pretty good. Actually, the whole evening felt good — and a little strange. The pandemic isn’t over and COVID has not been conquered but there are promising signs. A little string band music is one for sure.

 

The Wall That Heals

I have seen the real Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington, DC, multiple times and a traveling version once. When I heard that a wall replica would be on display in Columbus over the Memorial Day weekend, I didn’t really feel an overwhelming need to see it. However, when I woke up Saturday morning, that’s exactly what I wanted to do.

The Columbus display is hosted by the National Veterans Memorial and Museum. I have long been annoyed by people confusing Veterans Day and Memorial Day, and arrangements such as this may inadvertently contribute to the blurring of the two. They are not, of course, completely separable. They are two sides of the same coin or two branches of the same path. Everyone who joins the military will someday be honored by one — but not both — of these holidays.

“The Moving Wall” is a half-sized replica that began touring in 1984. At some point, a second copy was created. It was one of these that I saw in 2008. The replica displayed in Columbus is a different one called “The Wall That Heals”. At 3/4 the size of the original, it provides a rather realistic experience. The openness of the museum grounds combined with the fact that I was there before much of a crowd appeared, allowed me to get the entire wall into a single photo. These pictures were taken a little before 9:00 AM. The museum opens at 10:00 and I’m sure the number of people on site picked up considerably then.

I visited the museum shortly after it first opened in 2018 and described the visit here. I did not enter the museum today. I did walk some of the paths and ramps that surround it. Although officially a place for and about veterans, even without the wall, the museum has several reminders that many who set out to become veterans never make it.


Any morning in Columbus is a good time for breakfast at Tommy’s Diner, but that seems especially true when the day’s destination is less than a mile away. 

Butterflies of Bali

Like pretty much everything else, the annual butterfly show at Cincinnati’s Krohn Conservatory took a break in 2020. The show started in 1996, and for the first couple of years was called simply The Butterfly Show. Recent shows have featured butterflies from a specific country or region. The 2019 show, with a blog entry here, featured Butterflies of Ecuador. Nothing was featured in 2020 because of the COVID-19 pandemic. The show has returned in 2021 with the Butterflies of Bali.

The pandemic is not, by any means, over. Vaccines have greatly reduced the rate of new cases in the United States and led to events like the butterfly show being allowed but things are hardly back to normal. Attendance is through time-stamped tickets which are limited to forty per hour. The Butterfly Showroom is completely cleared between groups. I happened to be the first of my group which gave me a chance to capture an essentially empty show area.

The showroom was decorated with items that I assume were Bali-inspired including a pair of rather trim-looking Buddhas. In verifying that these slender fellows were indeed Buddhas, I discovered that Bali is more than 85% Hindu and less than 1% Buddhist. I guess there were no Vishnu statues in the prop room.

The brochure I was given at the show contains names and photos of the various species in the exhibit but I did not try to identify them when I took these photos and my willful ignorance continues with this posting.

My ignorance extends to all of the flora pictured with the fauna and I don’t even have a brochure to aid in guessing. 

To support all of the flitting they do, the butterflies are provided with a number of free nectar buffets placed throughout the showroom.

Despite every timeslot being sold out, there were never anywhere near forty people in the showroom while I was there. Thirty to forty-five minutes seemed to be the typical amount of time spent in the showroom, and attendees somehow staggered their arrival and departure so that no more than twenty to twenty-five people were present at one time. 

I headed out after about forty-five minutes. The exit path passes right by the Butterfly Nursery. Butterflies come from neither eggs nor storks but from cocoons spun by caterpillars that are sometimes as colorful as the butterflies they become and sometimes not attractive in the least. The show runs through September 6 so there is plenty of times for these little guys to shed their cocoons and become part of the big show.