Oktoberfest Lite

As everyone should know, the largest Oktoberfest in the world takes place each year in Munich, Germany. Not this year, however. A very distant second is the Cincinnati Oktoberfest which has also been canceled. Both of these events, as well as many others, are victims of the COVID-19 pandemic. When the cancellation of Cincinnati’s Oktoberfest was first announced, there was some muttering about a decentralized event whose participants could be counted so we could claim the number one spot for one year. Those mutterings seem to have completely faded and I suspect part of the reason is that a fair amount of decentralized partying is going on in Germany, too.

Oktoberfest Zinzinnati has a website and a Facebook page through which some activities, such as a Zoom based Chicken Dance, have been and will be coordinated — after a fashion. Even in decentralized form, attendance is limited by social distancing requirements and I opted to avoid anything resembling a crowd by celebrating solo in the afternoon. The site of my “celebration” was Cincinnati’s oldest restaurant and one of the most Germanish places in the city, Mecklenburg Gardens. To head off any claims of fibbing on my part, Arnold’s (1861) is indeed older than Mecklenburg’s (1865), but Arnold’s began life as a tavern. Mecklenburg’s has been a restaurant since day 1. UPDATE 9-20-20: Postcard image added.

My pocket camera did not do well in the mottled light beneath the 150-year-old grapevines but you might be able to pick out the photo-op cutouts in the first picture and the open tables in the second. Only one customer entered ahead of me, but several of those tables were filled soon after. A sausage and beer seemed appropriate and Mecklenburg’s offers a variety of each. I chose a goettawurst which is, of course, based on goetta, a Cincinnati creation. I bet you can’t get one of those in Munich. The beer is Spaten Märzen which you certainly can get in Munich, but there I’d be laughed at for drinking it from a tiny half-liter mug.

Before leaving, I stepped inside where I got a not-so-good picture of the bar which the pandemic has caused to be stripped of stools. A pleasant chat with bartender and part-owner John Harten made for a nice finish to my visit. John told me they have started doing tours of the historic building on Tuesdays. That sounds like something I need to check out.  

It’s a Gas… Engine Show

Terry’s back. And so is Dale. And so am I. I’ve known Terry since about age twelve. Dale and I go back even further having met in first grade at age six or so. Terry collects and restores Wheel Horse tractors and is a regular exhibitor at an event sponsored by the Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor Association at the Jay County Fairgrounds in Portland, Indiana. Dale has a passion for bicycles and regularly exhibits at an event the National Vintage Motor Bike Club puts on at the same place. I have attended both events multiple times as a spectator with a lot more curiosity than knowledge. The events have provided the three of us with an informal get-together opportunity and that is something that’s been extra scarce this year.

As a primarily outdoor event, I figured the show would be relatively safe and I believe it was. At odds with that belief was the fact that most attendees walked about without masks most of the time and often chatted without fully six-feet of separation. But people did don masks when standing in food lines and such, and staff at the entrance and elsewhere were masked. And, while faces weren’t always a fathom apart, they were rarely significantly closer than that and people at least seemed somewhat aware of their distance from others. There were frequent announcements about masks being required in the few indoor spaces being used this year, and it sounded like that was being enforced although I did not check it personally. Those announcements also told everyone that masks were required by the free shuttles. We noted that not one person was wearing a mask when the shuttle passed several times within sight of our home base at Terry’s display, but the one time I actually saw someone exiting the shuttle he pulled up his mask as he walked past the other passengers. It was a mixed bag, Safe? Relatively is the right word.

We made two forays into the exhibits. Our first destination was a threshing operation that some of Dale’s neighbors were involved in. Threshing is one of many farming tasks involving multiple generations, and that was the case at this demonstration. Power for the threshing machine was supplied by a kerosene-fueled 1920 Rumely Oil Pull. Mobility came via a somewhat newer 1954 International Harvester Farmall.

I’m told that large scale vintage construction gear has long been part of the show but I either failed to notice or failed to remember. There was even a big pile of dirt available where “kids” could play without being yelled at for messing up the yard.

Here are a few of the things to be seen near home base where we returned to eat lunch purchased from a nearby vendor.

This is the home base I’ve mentioned, with Terry under the canopy and Dale beside it. Those are, of course, just some of Terry’s herd of Horses. The newest addition is that black nose that can barely be seen at the far end of the row. It’s a real one-of-a-kind hotrod that, while I failed to get a good picture of today, I did get pictures of at its place of birth. They’re here and here.

Following lunch, we headed out to cruise the other half of the show. I rode behind Dale in the trailer as I had on the earlier outing. I quite enjoyed being chauffeured around and being able to take (only slightly crooked) pictures at will. Dale once had a summer job as a test driver for Lambert Manufacturing and scored a factory ride for a lawn tractor rally at the annual company picnic. A trailer was included and I was invited so I covered the rally with a view somewhat like the first picture behind a Lambert tractor somewhat like the red one in the second picture.

Not only do the dirt piles you play in grow bigger as you age, so too do the scale models you build. This one is street legal and capable of hauling… stuff.

The guy with the miniature semi-tractor told us about this miniature inline-six a few aisles over. It isn’t a copy of any particular bigger engine, but, with the exception of the carburetor, is built completely from scratch. Even the tiny sparkplugs were machined from some sort of countertop material. It’s mighty impressive from the outside but thinking about the cam and crank shafts inside makes it even more phenomenal.

With a straight line distance of approximately ninety miles, this becomes the farthest I’ve been from home since February. Greenville, which I’ve been to multiple times, is about sixty straight line miles away. The other Gibson I saw there was a lot farther from home than I. This fellow is from a Seattle, WA, company that closed down in 1952. If my original plans for this year had held up, that’s where I would have been sometime earlier this month. Hold on, Seattle, I’m coming.

Here’s the Beef

Cincinnati Burger Week number six is almost over. Today is the final day of an event that is now part of a statewide Ohio Burger Week. Maybe it has been in the past although I always thought it was local. For 2020, special hamburger deals were/are to be found in five cities — Cincinnati, Cleveland, Columbus, Dayton, and Toledo — from August 17 through August 23. I’d seen claims of fiftyish participants but that turns out to be rather low. Nearly seventy restaurants are now listed on the Cincinnati Burger Week website. With this blog in mind, I picked six to try on the six days preceding publication. The number six also fit in with the sixth year for the event and the six dollar (up from $5) burger price. I picked places based on location, the availability of outside seating, and how strongly a specific offering appealed to me. One of the goals of Burger Week is to try something new so half of the places I picked were places I’d never been to before.

The first day went swimmingly and that included perfect weather. Two of my selections were within walking distance but one is closed on Mondays. I headed to the other. At deSha’s American Tavern I enjoyed a Ducking Good Burger at one of the well-spaced tables on the waterside deck. A Ducking Good Burger is described as ground beef, fontina cheese, roasted tomato-garlic aioli, topped with shredded potatoes tossed in duck fat, served on a brioche bun. The only thing keeping this from being the perfect Burger Week experience is that I’m quite familiar with deSha’s (and Belhaven Scottish Ale) so the sandwich itself was the only thing new to me.

The second day was hardly perfect, but it ended well. I decided to head to the farthest away of my selections trying to target a point where the rain that filled most of the day would let up. Not only did I mistime the rain, I really blew it with the ‘burger. I’d made myself aware of the days each restaurant would be closed but not of the time. I arrived at 4:15; They closed at 3:00. But I knew of another nearby Burger Week participant so headed over to Keystone Bar & Grill. The rain had more or less stopped but the outside tables were not yet being used. I sat near the door at a properly distanced table. It turned out that a choice of two hamburgers was offered. When asked, my waitress told me, “I think you should try the donut.” I was well aware that people have been making sandwiches out of donuts but considered them to be totally over the top and had so far managed to avoid them. I tried again today but the waitress and my own curiosity won out. In my defense, this wasn’t just any donut but a Holtman’s donut. I haven’t found a detailed description of the Maple Bacon Donut Burger, but it was delicious even though the touch of sweetness from the donut glaze was a little strange. The new-to-me Three Floyds Gumballhead was pretty good, too. When I went looking for that detailed description at the end of the day, I discovered an apology tacked to the front of the Keystone website. It was an apology for some slow service on the first day of Burger Week that was at least partly due to overwhelming demand for donuts. Henceforth, it said the donut ‘burger would be available for dine-in only.

Great weather returned on Wednesday making it a good day to head to the closest restaurant on my Burger Week list. I placed my order inside Frenchie Fresh Burger Bar then took a seat outside, near the Little Free Library in a phone booth, to await its arrival. Inside seating is available. Burger Week ‘burgers are usually enough to fill me so I tend to skip the extras but I decided to give “Frenchie Fries” with parmesan and truffle dust a try. Good but not necessary. As expected, Le Alpine ‘burger (swiss cheese, caramelized onions, & mushroom demi-glaze) would have been enough. As I ate, I noticed a familiar name in the storefront signage that I had not noticed when checking out things online. Beneath the sketch of a French Bulldog is the phrase “by Jean-Robert”. Jean-Robert de Cavel is a Cincinnati celebrity chef who gained fame at the Maisonette, Pigall’s, and his own fine dining establishments. Apparently, Frenchie Fresh Burger Bar is his move into more casual dining. The beer is Country Boy Brewing’s Cougar Bait which (fortunately, I think) doesn’t seem to work for a guy in his seventies even if he is eating truffle dust.

After starting the week with two places where I’ve eaten many times, I moved on to a pair of new-to-me restaurants. Wednesday was the first I’d been to Frenchie Fresh, and Thursday was my first visit to Brown Dog Cafe. It is one of several restaurants inside Summit Park on the former site of Blue Ash Airport. Both indoor and outdoor seating is available but I didn’t even consider eating inside on such a glorious day. I washed down my fontina cheese, bacon jam, and apple slaw topped ‘burger with Grainworks’ Blue Skies Hero Brew in a Fathead’s Brewery glass. Summit Park really is a park with an observation tower I need to come back and check out. On my way out today, I strolled by a playground I could see in the distance from my table. All distancing and mask protocols were carefully observed by the Brown Dog staff but that was not the case with all the kids playing on the equipment and sliding down hillsides on sheets of cardboard.

On Friday, I made it three new-to-me restaurants in a row by returning to the place where I’d arrived too late on Tuesday. Butler’s Pantry is on the inland side of a building on the south banks of the Ohio River. All COVID precautions are in place and there seemed to be plenty of outside seating. The tasty  ‘burger was topped with pimento cheese, red onion, bacon, onion straws, and root beer bbq mayo although I gotta admit I didn’t pick up much root beer flavor. Maybe the real beer (Braxton Storm, brewed less than half a mile to the south) washed it away. Free parking across the street with validation at the Pantry.

Even though there were still candidates on my list, by Saturday I decided I’d consumed enough hamburgers for the week. I had penciled in the lone non-beef Burger Week participant for a possible dessert someday but used it to fill the last slot in my six-day moving feast. I learned that my impression that only carryout was available was wrong when I arrived and saw the tables out front. I carried my purchase back home as planned, but in hindsight, wish I’d ordered a cup of coffee and nibbled on my beignet sliders at one of those tables along the one time Dixie Highway (now US 42) in Reading. Très Belle‘s Burger Week page describes one of these treats as a berry-filled beignet bun with edible rainbow sugar cookie dough patty and the other as Nutella filled with edible chocolate brownie cookie dough. They only call one decadent but that doesn’t seem entirely honest in my opinion. Maybe advertising double-barreled decadence is against somebody’s rules.

Coincidence at Play (Again)

This post originally appeared on April 3, 2016. A few weeks ago I predicted that I would be recycling more blog posts as the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic restricted real-world interaction, but I didn’t think that would be the case this week. I had a pre-canned series post selected when coincidence struck. I was trying to figure out when I had visited a particular museum and resorted to searching this website for some record. The museum is one with many Civil War artifacts so I used those words in the search and this post appeared in the results. I had all but forgotten it but a reread made me think that a repost might be appropriate. As I wrote four years ago, “there’s still plenty of crap going on.” I did, incidentally, read “To Kill a Mocking Bird” within a couple of weeks of seeing the play.

tcamb1I’ve yet to read To Kill a Mockingbird. I have seen the 1962 movie multiple times and now I’ve seen the play. I had hoped to read the book between learning that the play would be performed this season at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park and actually seeing it but that didn’t work out.

The Friday night performance would be the biggest event of my week but I didn’t expect it to lead to a blog post. I anticipated that a canned Trip Peek would be published this morning. A Friday morning email got me to thinking differently.

The email was the April E-News from the Smithsonian. One of the topics was “The Scottsboro Boys” with this two sentence tease: “The case of the Scottsboro Boys, which lasted more than 80 years, helped to spur the civil rights movement. To Kill a Mockingbird, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Harper Lee, is also loosely based on this case.”

I read the article referenced in the email and could easily see similarities between the 1931 real world incident and the fictional one Harper Lee set just a few years later. Both involved black men accused of imaginary crimes against white women and both occurred in a world where color mattered a whole lot more than truth. Later I read that in 2005 Harper Lee said this was not the incident she had in mind when writing To Kill a Mockingbird but that it served “the same purpose”. Despite there not being an official connection between the Scottsboro Boys and To Kill a Mockingbird, reading about the incident and its repercussions served a purpose for me, too. It provided an unpleasant picture of this country near the midpoint between the Civil War and today. The accuracy of that picture is reinforced by a contemporary pamphlet, They Shall Not Die!, referenced in the Smithsonian article.

tcamb2I took my seat on Friday with the Scottsboro story fresh in my mind. The stage was bare except for a single light bulb which would actually be removed at the play’s start although it would return later. The stage consists of a large circular center and a surrounding ring both of which rotate. Sometimes they rotate in opposite directions which can seem to expand the distance between actors or the distance they travel. Set Designer Laura Jellinek states that “our main goal was to eliminate any artifice between the audience and the story” and this set certainly accomplishes that. As one audience member observed during the discussion that followed the play, she briefly looked around for the jury during the courtroom scene before realizing that “we were the jury”. At its most crowded, the stage holds nine chairs for the key figures in that courtroom scene.

The discussion I mentioned happens after every performance. Anyone interested moves close to the stage to listen or participate. There were naturally questions about this specific production but there were also questions about the story. There is a sign in the lobby that I now wish I’d taken a picture of. “Don’t read books that think for you. Read books that make you think.” might not be 100% accurate but it’s close. Friday night’s discussion was evidence that this play is prompting some thinking and I’ve no reason to think that discussions following other performances are any different.

tcamb3There is also a set of blackboards in the lobby. As I assume is true at every performance, the blackboards started out empty except for a question at the top of each. By the time people started heading home, the boards were full. It’s pretty clear that some thinking is going on here, too.

It was the coincidence of the Smithsonian email showing up on the day I was set to see the play that nudged me towards making it a blog entry. There is another coincidence of sorts that I find interesting.  Each week, the blog This Cruel War publishes an article on lynchings. The article is published on Wednesdays but, since I subscribe via RSS and I seem to always be behind in my RSS reading, it is often a day or more after publication before I read a specific article. I read this week’s post the morning after my Playhouse visit. In it, the source of the series’ title, “This Disgraceful Evil”, is given. It comes from a 1918 Woodrow Wilson speech in which he calls upon America “…to make an end of this disgraceful evil.”

We don’t have to deal with actual lynchings now as much as in 1918 but there’s still plenty of crap going on. “It cannot live”, Wilson continues, “where the community does not countenance it.”

Originally scheduled to end today, April 3, To Kill a Mockingbird‘s run a Playhouse in the Park has been extended through April 9.

It’s Easter (Again)

This post first appeared last year. It is being reused due in part to 2020’s reduced mobility and (apparently) creativity. Articles in USA Today and elsewhere, include Root Beer Float in a list of five new Peeps flavors but, as can be seen below and in the original post, the flavor was already around in 2019. Hot Tamales Fierce Cinnamon, on the other hand, really does appear to be making its debut this year.


Today is Easter. I know that because I looked it up on the internet. It was easy. It was easy in the early days, too. Easter was originally simply the Sunday of Passover week. Since most early Christians had once been Jews, they just naturally knew when Passover was. Even those that had converted to Christianity directly from Druidism probably had some Jewish friends they could ask. Easy, peasy. Too easy, it seems, for some.

Things changed in 325 at the First Council of Nicaea. Maybe the priests felt threatened by pretty much everybody knowing when Easter was without asking. Or maybe the astronomers, who might have been the same guys, were feeling left out. Or maybe the priests just weren’t all that happy having a Christian holiday tied so tightly to a Jewish one. So, they tied it, instead, to the moon and the sun.

Their starting point was the vernal equinox when the sun is directly above Earth’s equator and day and night are of equal length. Next was a full moon which occurs when the surface visible to Earth is completely illuminated by the sun. These two events are not synchronized. A vernal equinox happens every 365.24 days; A full moon every 29.53 days. But even the most radical of the Nicaea councilors dared not mess with the idea that Easter was a Sunday thing. That meant that a mostly arbitrary period of seven days and the completely arbitrary selection of one of the seven were overlaid on the two asynchronous sun and moon events. Henceforth, Easter would be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox.

That probably sounds a bit involved and confusing to many people today let alone 4th-century peasants. Come spring of 326, priests were no doubt busy letting the laity know when they should hide their eggs and have relatives over for baked ham.

In the centuries since, alternate sources of the information have proliferated. Asking a priest continues to be an option, but one that has been unnecessary since sometime in the 20th century when the majority of refrigerators became covered by calendars — with Easter marked in red — from every merchant and insurance agent in the area. The time saved has been put to good use finding ways to enhance the Easter experience. A Lego bunny and never before seen colored and flavored Peeps are available for 2019. And scheduling egg hunts has become even easier. “Hey Google. When’s Easter?”

Aging in Place

This picture is indeed a repeat. It appeared last November in a post about my first decade of retirement. It is now being used for my birthday. I’m celebrating my seventy-third birthday today in the middle of a pandemic and a statewide stay-at-home order. That is not, however, why I’m reusing the picture. As soon as I made the image, I knew it would be perfect for my next birthday post. Sure, I took the picture with retirement in mind, but once the text was added it became a birthday image. I went ahead and used it in the retirement post because I didn’t have time to think of and produce anything else. Here is where it belongs.

The aforementioned pandemic and the changes it’s brought make me aware of other privileges I have besides growing old. In normal times, having a fixed income is often seen as a negative. Any unexpected expense can be a disaster and the slow creep of inflation can be a major problem over time. But, when restaurants and other businesses are being closed, new layoffs are announced almost daily, and most of the self-employed are left with nothing coming in at all, a fixed income doesn’t sound so bad.

I’ve been living alone for more than twenty years, and I’ve become quite used to it. Quite happy with it, too. Social distancing is easy, and I don’t have to worry about anyone but me contaminating that teetering stack of books on my table. I’m not officially responsible for anyone else. Please don’t read that as a disclaimer intended to shirk responsibility. It’s an observation that there is no one is depending on me for shelter or meals. I do keep an eye on my 94-year-old stepmother but she’s remarkably independent and well prepared with wonderful neighbors who make sure she doesn’t run out of anything. I usually see her every week or two, but when I suggested coming to visit last weekend, she talked me out of it.

Each of my three kids fits the model of what I think about when describing someone being responsible for someone else. Each has a family that they shelter and feed and — with schools closed — educate. I was never a particularly good parent but all three are self-sufficient and caring and I’m pretty happy with that.

I had planned to be in the middle of a short road trip right now, and celebrating my birthday with dinner at the historic Century Inn in Scenery Hill, Pennsylvania, but the inn is about 250 miles away and only doing carry out anyway. As that affects me personally, it seems to be among the first worldliest of first world problems. It means that the only National Road mile marker I’ll see today is the one on my mantle. I’ve not often done carry out during this quasi-quarantine, but I probably will today. Maybe something from the steakhouse across the street.

Yeah, I’m privileged. Not so much for being old as for growing old. I’ve often said, in reference to road trips, that I enjoy getting there more than being there. I guess life’s kind of like that too. I think I’ll just grow older for a while.

ADDENDUM 5-Apr-2020: In the end, I did not go to the nearby steakhouse. I decided if I was going to venture out, it would be for something special — and local. The steakhouse is a chain and Montgomery Inn, while being a long way from a mom-and-pop restaurant, is independent and locally owned. I did a drive-by for my favorite ribs & shrimp combo and even helped my dwindling beer stash with a six-pack of Ted’s Red (brewed by Mount Carmel).  

Home Learning

Since 2009, depending on your definition of work, I have either always worked at home or never worked at home. But I’ve left home a whole bunch to eat, quite often to sleep, and a respectable number of times to learn something. Of course, I more often than not learn something every time I leave the house but right now I’m talking about those times I’ve headed out to a museum or lecture. At the moment, just like the bars and other music venues I wrote about on Wednesday, museums and lecture halls are closed.

The opening image is a screenshot of the Cincinnati Museum Center’s home page and its “Notice of Temporary Closure”. The Museum Center is a place I get to somewhat frequently for OMNIMAX® movies, the permanent exhibits, and world-class traveling exhibits. A traveling exhibit I was really looking forward to, Maya — The Exhibition, was set to open right when the COVID-19 related closures began. I’ve also attended several lectures there. In particular, I liked a series called Brown Bag Lectures. During the two-year-long renovation project, the lectures moved offsite and have yet to return although the building reopened at the end of 2018. Despite good intentions, I haven’t attended a single Brown Bag Lecture since the start of the renovations.

Sometime after the Holocaust and Humanity Center moved into the Museum Center, it began lectures of its own. The Holocaust Speakers Series only recently made it on to my radar and I had not yet attended one. I did, however, once attend a similar talk by the fellow, now deceased, that the HHC’s Coppel Speakers Bureau is named after. Like all other activities, the lectures were canceled when the building closed, but some lectures, like some musical performances, can be adapted to the internet. The HHC has done that with this series with the first “digital lecture” taking place last Wednesday. In the screenshot at left are HHC CEO Sarah Weiss and the presenter of that lecture, Ray Warren. I had expected to simply call up the website and watch a live feed but the lecture was delivered via Zoom which allows questions and other interactions. I’d not used Zoom previously and had to install the application but it was automated and quick.

Ray told the story of his parents who had survived the Holocaust separately then met and married after the war. His slide presentation was set up for use on a large screen in front of a real audience and there were a few glitches early on but problems were solved or worked around. Ray told us not only about his parents’ remarkable experiences but about his own experiences in discovering some aspects of their story. His slides included pictures of friends and family before and after the war. There was a picture of the earrings, now displayed at the HHC, that his mother managed to hide even during her time at the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. They were the only connection she had with her pre-war life.

I only took one screenshot during the lecture and it was very near the end. Ray talked about how people made decisions before and during the Holocaust. He spoke not only of how but when. Don’t be late, he said. He mentioned some more recent events that deserved decisions. He mentioned the white supremacist gatherings in Charlottesville and elsewhere and he mentioned the much closer and more recent incident in the photo. Just over two weeks before the lecture and barely ten miles from my home, someone painted “The Jews killed Christ. They are the enemies of the whole human race.” Don’t be late.

My post on the opening of the Holocaust and Humanity Center is here. The one on hearing Werner Coppel is here. For the present, there will be digital lectures each Wednesday at 11:00. Register here.

Burr on Tap

For 2020, the Cincinnati Museum Center is holding a series of after-hour events under the heading Museum on Tap. The first, “Space Gallery Pub Crawl”, was in January and associated with the Apollo 11 exhibit then in place. The second, “Aaron Burr: American Bastard”, happened on Thursday, and I was there.

The “on tap” in the series’ name comes from the fact that adult beverages are available. While there are no actual taps dispensing draft beer, there is beer in cans and bottles along with wine and spirits. These beverages were offered at four different locations including two in the Public Landing area. One reason the cobblestone street was fairly empty when I arrived was that many attendees were standing in lines at the other two service locations I’d passed on the way. Event literature admits that the Public Landing of the 1850s is somewhat more modern than the Cincinnati Mr. Burr would have seen but it’s a better fit than, say, the Hall of Dinosaurs.

The museum’s gathering was set in 1807 and, while Burr was not present himself, several of his friends, acquaintances, and accomplices were. Pictured, from left to right, are boat builder Leonard Armstrong, Senator John Smith, Charlotte Chambers Ludlow (widow of Cincinnati founder Israel Ludlow), and Mayor James Findlay. Smith aided Burr in his schemes, Findlay hindered him, and Armstrong and Ludlow were attentive observers.

This being my first Museum on Tap experience, I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. I thought there might be some sort of presentation but that wasn’t the case this time. I can’t say whether or not that’s true of other events in the series. A handout supplied some background on Burr’s trial for treason and his relation with Cincinnatian John Smith. This was augmented by several posters that might have appeared on the streets of Cincinnati. Chatting with the folks in period dress added details. In conversation, Senator Smith put a modern twist on things by referring to reports of his wrongdoing as “fake news”. When I asked for a solo photo, there was no question of where he wanted to pose. He smugly stepped over to the poster with his name and the words “NOT GUILTY” while ignoring the question mark and the smaller print as only a practiced politician can.

I also spoke with Mayor Findlay, who was among those calling for Senator Smith to resign, and Mrs. Ludlow, who had met Burr only once and was clearly not impressed. Onboard the Queen of the West, Leonard Armstrong happily shared his knowledge of the flatboats he built for businessmen like Smith. From the forward deck, I could see the street becoming more crowded.

One thing happening on the street was artists from Music Resource Center performing original material. I briefly mentally questioned the presence of hip hop music in 1807 but quickly realized that the hip hop musical Hamilton is responsible for much of the current awareness of Alexander Hamilton and the man who shot him, Aaron Burr. In fact, singing karaoke versions of Hamilton tunes was one of the activities supported by the Music Resource Center but the signup sheet was still empty when I left. An area a little bit away from the landing was designated as dueling grounds and Nerf pistols were provided for anyone wanting to recreate the Hamilton-Burr encounter. Apparently, some did, as I found the pistols in various locations when I peeked in but I never caught an actual duel in progress.

Attendees could also increase their knowledge with trivia flip cards or a scavenger hunt-style bingo game and I saw quite a few people doing both. Questions on the flip cards were not Burr-specific but were generally focused on the early 1800s. Bingo game questions referred to various displays throughout the public landing area. I flipped a few cards but left the bingo competition to others. That’s why I still don’t know how much Hattie Calhoun paid to update her dress. 

Festless in Cincinnati

In last week’s post, I told of becoming a big fan and semi-regular attendee of the annual Bockfest parade. At the time, I had every intention of attending this year’s event but it didn’t work out that way. Despite predicted near-freezing temperatures, those intentions survived until the afternoon of the parade but no further. Predictions of partly cloudy and low chance of precipitation became completely cloud covered with light snow. Recalling my 2013 “I’m too old for this” decision, I gave the parade a miss.

I had, of course, planned on the parade being the subject of this week’s post. Fortunately, there had been an event earlier in the week which makes a very suitable substitute. Narrow Path Brewing, in nearby Loveland, held their own mini-Bockfest on Tuesday. There was no parade but there were genuine goats, imposing monks who may or may not have been genuine, and a genuine ceremonial tapping of a keg of bock beer.

I didn’t make it to Bock Hall or the adjacent tent of many breweries in Cincinnati, but I did get to sample three of the area’s bock offerings. The first was the Sonder Brewing‘s William Goat featured in last week’s post, and the second was Narrow Path Brewing’s Pathinator that I enjoyed on Tuesday. The third was Common Denominator at  The Common Beer Company on Saturday. I met fellow road and beer enthuiast Perry Huntoon there, and his son snapped our picture when there was still a little Common Denominator left in my glass.

Scenes from when I actually made it to the big downtown bash can be found here: 2010, 2011, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2018, 2019.

Royal Competition

I attended my first Bockfest Parade in 2010 and immediately regretted missing the preceding seventeen. My attendance hasn’t been perfect since then but it’s on the plus side: 6 of 10. My attendance at other Bockfest events has been perfect. I haven’t attended a single one and that includes the multiple Sausage Queen competitions that take place each year. One reason was the expectation of crowded spaces which I don’t enjoy nearly as much as I once did but location has also been a factor. To be honest, location could be problematic for a couple of reasons. One, of course, was distance. Most events happen downtown which means a bit of a drive plus dealing with parking. Secondly, many were in places I was unfamiliar with. I presumed that most of the attendees were folks who frequented the various places and the fact that I did not sort of added to the “crowded spaces” aspect. But this year the last of seven qualifying events took place just up the road in a place I’m fairly familiar with.

Sonder Brewing is the brewery closest to my home. It’s less than two crow-miles from my door and about two and a half if I stick to the roads. I arrived more than an hour ahead of the scheduled start of competition and the place was packed. I got a beer and hovered near the bar until a seat miraculously opened. My first beer was a porter. The second was the more appropriate William Goat bock pictured above. I can’t say whether or not the flouting of the “‑ator” bock naming convention was intentional but I can say it was quite good. I happily sipped my brew to the sounds of 99 Luftballon and Beer Barrel Polka — both in German. Then it was La Bamba and Livin’ On A Prayer in Spanish and English respectively.

The competition took place in the far corner. The acoustics were horrible so I had almost no idea of what was going on and the lighting and distance helped me make photos that matched the acoustics. I got no pictures of one of the three entrants and didn’t even learn her name. I was rooting for Ashli, who was assisted by an energetic dance team, only because I’d met her and some of her team before things got rolling. Rhonda also had a little help and both had sizable cheering sections.

Rhonda was the ultimate winner although I don’t know why or how. She will represent Sonder Brewing in the final competition for the 2020 Sausage Queen at Bockfest Hall next Saturday.