Lasse die Guten Zeiten Rollen!

Posted on September 21, 2014 by Denny

Attending a John Prine concert in the middle of America’s largest Oktoberfest may have been the highlight of my week but it wasn’t the only musical event involved. Honky tonk ribbon cutting came before and Revival rocking came after. Here, in the order of their appearance, are the things that filled the last week of summer for me.

Early this year, Outlaw Magazine, which is about music rather than law breaking, launched something called the Last Honky Tonk Music Series. Taking its name from a song by singer-songwriter Wayne Mills, who was shoot and killed in Nashville last December, its purpose is “Sustaining the Artists, Sustaining the Venues, Sustaining the Community”. Every state is to have at least one venue in the series and Ohio now has two.

On Thursday, John Nawrocki and I attended the ribbon cutting ceremony that launched the first Last Honky Tonk Music Series performance at Friend’s Backyard Grill in Clarksville, Ohio. Clinton County officials help owner Rhonda Friend cut the ribbon.

Once the “formal” stuff was out of the way, Dallas Moore got on with the honky tonking. By pure coincidence, I’d seen — but not heard — Dallas about two weeks ago at Ohio’s other Last Honky Tonk Music Series location, Win Place or Show. By another, perhaps not so pure, coincidence, that was only the second time I’d stopped at Win Place or Show in the last few years and Dallas was setting up on both occasions. Of course, both stops were to enjoy the outside deck on sunny afternoons which is why I make no claims regarding the purity of the coincidence. That first time, more than a year ago, gear for the whole band was being carried in and I made sure I was gone before they got plugged in. On the most recent stop, it would be a solo performance but I still ate and left. In hindsight, I wish I had stayed. I have seen the Dallas Moore Band in the past and have not enjoyed them very much. On Thursday I discovered that I do enjoy Dallas as a solo performer. I’ll definitely hang around the next time I encounter him alone and I might even give the band another listen some day.

The John Prine concert was Friday. I got my ticket a long time ago and, because it would be in downtown Cincinnati, even had some vague plans about going down early for dinner and strolling. A few days ago, when I finally got serious and realized that the concert coincided with the first day of Oktoberfest Zinzinnati, those vague plans became very solid and darned near perfect.

Cincinnati’s first Oktoberfest, at least the first of the current run, took place in 1976. With attendance in excess of half a million, it is considered the largest in the United States. I haven’t been to Oktoberfest Zinzinnati in several years and when I did go it was likely to be on Saturday or Sunday afternoon. It turns out that Friday evening, with a somewhat smaller crowd, is a much better choice. The only things missing, besides the Saturday afternoon World’s Largest Chicken Dance, are the carnival rides which don’t get turned on until morning. That not only keeps the number of tikes down but prevents a regrettable tilt-a-whirl ride with a belly full of goetta and Hudy.

Anchored by Fountain Square, Oktoberfest Zinzinnati occupies five blocks of Fifth Street. A few blocks to the south, the Christian Moerlein Lager House has their own party going on under an immense “authentic Munich-style Oktoberfest tent” they call ÜberDrome. It looks like I captured Moerlein’s commander-in-chief, Greg Hardman, in my picture although I didn’t realize that until I was editing the picture for posting. I’m guessing that many stick with one place or the other though the walk between Fifth Street and the Lager House isn’t all that much longer than the walk from one end of the ÜberDrome to the other.

I got back to Fifth Street with just enough time to add a bit of strudel to the goetta and Hudy before heading inside. John Prine‘s voice isn’t quite what it was in the ’70s; very few are. I’m sure his recent bouts with cancer haven’t helped but the funny songs are no less funny and the touching songs are possibly even more touching. He’s definitely still got it. That’s Amanda Shires, who opened the show, singing with John in the third photo.

Just like Prine and Oktoberfest, I prefaced my third show of the week with a party. This was a birthday pawty for a Great Pyrenees named Mia Bella. I understand that Bella was even greater (by several pounds) at the time of the party than when the poster was created. There were beef, vegi, and turkey hot dogs, each with its own cooker, along with paw and puppy patterned pastries. Note that Hudepohl fits in at smaller gatherings just as well as at big city festivals.

The third show was in the Revival Room at Southgate House Revival in Newport, Kentucky. I first saw JD Simo in Nashville in 2009 and have been looking forward to seeing him again ever since. He was a hired gun in 2009 but has been fronting his own trio, SIMO, for about three years. They have been here once before but I just could not get to that show. This time I made it and was every bit as blown away as I expected to be. The only thing disappointing was the crowd.

I don’t believe there was ever more than forty people in the audience. That made it nice for those of us that were there and the trio sure didn’t slack off because of it but this guy deserves to be seen and heard by a lot more people. In 2009 he impressed me in Nashville where remarkable musical talent fills every stage and sidewalk. In Newport, there were times when I thought I might be having a 1968 Jimi Hendrix flashback. I don’t mean that JD imitates or sounds like Hendrix but seeing the virtuoso guitarist fronting a driving power trio naturally triggers comparisons with Hendrix, Cream, James Gang, Mountain, and the like. SIMO handles the comparisons well.

WACO Homecoming

Posted on September 14, 2014 by Denny

Troy, Ohio, was once home to the most successful airplane manufacturer in the world. That manufacturer, WACO Aircraft Company, ceased production in 1947 but the city keeps the memories alive with Historic WACO Field at the south edge of town. A museum, learning center, and runway see action all year long but the annual fly-in brings in quite a bit of extra action, particularly for the runway. I attended this year’s fly-in on Saturday, the middle of its three day run.

The dozen or so WACOs parked on the ground made a colorful and impressive display. I have the feeling that there were more of the planes here on my first visit to the fly-in in 2006 but I can’t quantify that and a dozen WACOs is still a lot of WACOs.

There were plenty of “don’t touch” reminders but attendees were otherwise free to walk among the airplanes for up close viewing. Only after I got home and started to prepare this post did I realize that it is likely that not all of those gorgeous planes I admired were vintage. It had somehow escaped me that the WACO Aircraft Corporation of Battle Creek, Michigan, started building reproductions of the WACO YMF in 1986. The reproductions have the word “classic” in their logo so I should have been able to easily identify them if I’d only known to look. On the other hand, it was probably better not knowing and believing that all those great looking machines were older than me.

A tremendous increase in museum space since I was last here means that several airplanes, including some that were displayed outside in 2006, are now displayed under cover. Maybe that contributed, just a bit, to my sense of fewer WACOs on the field.

A big attraction is the availability, for a fee, of rides in the open planes. Passengers, two maximum, sit in front of the pilot. These pictures show a vintage (no “classic” in the logo) WACO taxiing from its spot among the other aircraft, gaining speed down the grass runway, then smoothly rising above the corn. My guess is that that’s a buddy and not a paying passenger in the front compartment.

I’ll close with a 1993 WACO Classic YMF (I learned that later.) coming in with a pair of happy customers, seat backs in the upright position, sitting up front.

Hudsonly Yours

Posted on July 27, 2014 by Denny

People with an interest in old roads or old cars may be familiar with the phrase used in the title. It’s part of the signature of knowledgeable road fan and very knowledgeable Hudson fan Alex Burr. I’m counting on Alex being as gracious toward my borrowing of the phrase as he was in sharing his knowledge and enthusiasm with me at the Hudson Essex Terraplane International Meet in French Lick, Indiana, on Thursday.

I scurried along the interstate to Louisville then picked up US-150 for a very pleasant drive through southern Indiana. The meet was being held on the grounds of the impressive French Lick Springs Resort & Casino where I had to park my non-Hudson vehicle in the Brand X lot. I missed Alex sitting in one of the rocking chairs arrayed on the long porch (veranda?) across the front of the hotel but a phone call had us connected in no time.

Alex has spent a lot of time as something of a librarian and historian for the club which made him the perfect guide through the several lots filled with Hudsons, Essexes, and Terraplanes (HETs) of every vintage. The oldest was this brass trimmed 1909/1910 model at the corner of the first lot. The first Hudsons were built in 1909 but sold as 1910 models which is pretty much how the whole auto industry operates today.

HET meets are often promoted with the slogan “Come for the cars. Stay for the people.” and Alex makes a pretty good people guide, too. That’s Alex in front of a 1928 Hudson Town Car and Charlie Woodruff, one of the people he introduced me to, in front of his own 1951 Hudson Super 6 that he drove to French Lick from Schenectady, New York. That’s his “I DROVE MY HUDSON…” decal in the picture at the top of this article. Charlie has driven the car to many other meets including the one in Spokane, Washington, in 2010. That trip resulted in a book, The Long Ride, which helped me believe that I might be able to cross the country in an unrestored older vehicle myself. I did (By Mopar to the Golden Gate) though the car I drove was a dozen years newer than Charlie’s.

The weather was just about perfect for strolling through the rows of great looking cars. The car in the third photo is one I didn’t even realize existed. For a couple of years following the merger, American Motors offered both a Nash Metropolitan and a Hudson Metropolitan before shortening the name to simply Metropolitan. I’ve seen plenty of Nash Metropolitans and just plain Metropolitans and maybe I’ve seen some Hudson Metropolitans without knowing it. They are all the same car, of course, so I guess I need to pay more attention to the badges in the future.

The 4 cylinder power plant on the left is in a 1932 Essex Terraplane. I don’t recall what held the 6 cylinder on the right. The dual carburetor Twin H-Power setup was initially an after market item before becoming a dealer installed option. It provided pretty good boosts to the engine’s power and to Hudson’s image as a performance car. Note that the old engine is quite capable of handling modern add-ons like air conditioning.

If just looking at Hudsons isn’t enough, this is also a great place for picking up the basics for starting your own Hudson collection or for acquiring the finishing touches for something currently in your fleet.

Just looking was enough for me though I think I’d like to do it again. I doubt I’ll make it to next year’s meet in Colorado Springs but the 2016 meet in Chattanooga, Tennessee, is already on my “probable” list.

Old, Strong, and Fast

Posted on July 13, 2014 by Denny

Although I saw no single piece of equipment that possessed all three attributes, over the last couple of days I saw a lot of old stuff, strong stuff and fast stuff. The old stuff was primarily at the Greenville Farm Power of the Past 15th Annual Reunion with the strong stuff showing off at the day ending truck and tractor pull. That was Friday. The fast stuff blew by on Saturday at the East Coast Timing Association‘s event in Wilmington, Ohio.

A recent post told of my meeting up with an old friend after two score and seven years. That friend, Terry Wolfe, collects and restores Wheel Horse tractors and had several on display at the Greenville event. Despite my good intentions, I never did get a proper photo of the display. The shot at the top of the article, taken while the two of us, along with Terry’s brother Joe, sat and talked, is the best I can do.

I had timed my arrival to take in a scheduled threshing demonstration. This is not something I haven’t seen before but it had been quite awhile and I generally enjoy seeing older equipment of any kind being used as intended. Before combined harvesters became common, wagon loads of freshly mowed grain stalks would be brought to a stationary thresher where the actual grain would be separated from the straw. As we walked toward the demonstration, Terry told me that this was where the term “straw boss” came from. The primary boss concerned himself with the machine and the grain while an assistant would head up a crew to deal with the accumulating straw. Terry also told me of the tradition of the straw boss tossing his (usually straw) hat into the thresher at the end of a job. Sometimes that hat made it through more or less intact. Sometimes not. The tradition is upheld here. There is no need for an actual “boss of the straw” during the demonstrations but the term is used, a bit incorrectly but quite respectfully, to refer to the fellow who would be the “big boss” in the field. Come Sunday, when the last demo of the year is over, a hat (Lester’s, I think) will go into the big machine.

There is no shortage of big equipment on the Darke County Fairgrounds but Terry and I sort of concentrated on the smaller stuff during our walkabout. I’ve always been intrigued by “hit-and-miss” gasoline engines and the variety of mechanisms creative minds applied to to control their speed. A local connection is worth some extra points so I naturally liked the nicely restored Greenville built 1906 Wogaman in the first picture. Terry, who is under that red hat in the second picture, has exhibited here for several years but this year the Vintage Garden Tractor Club of America is holding their Ohio regional show in conjunction with Greenville Farm Power of the Past and there are even more of the smaller tractors than usual. Maybe the item in the last picture doesn’t quite fit the normal definition of “power” but I had never seen anything like it and just had to include it. A sign identified it as a MantaMower and a web search turned up the information that it was patented in 1923 and manufactured (in Grand Rapids, MI) until about 1962. There is no question of its being light and safe and I don’t doubt it was rather effective as long as you didn’t let the grass grow just a tad too tall.

Here we have the strong stuff. The Darke County Tractor Pullers Association is a pretty big organization and this was one of their events. I don’t know enough about it to describe things much beyond saying there were some really big tractors dragging a bunch of weight for a pretty good distance.

The previously pictured tractors were clearly not stock but I do believe they were powered by engines that began their life in a tractor. These are from a class powered by transplanted and modified V8s. The announcer referred to them as “hot rods” although I have no idea whether that’s an official designation or not.

Trucks followed the tractors with more classes as well as more total entries. I think we made it to the beginning of the final class but left well ahead of the final pull. If you don’t count the clutches that were sacrificed getting off the line, there was very little equipment damage. Only one tractor had needed a tow and the dragging drive-shaft on the blue Ford was the only failure we witnessed among the trucks. Opportunities remained, however.

Calling it the “Ohio Mile”, the East Coast Timing Association holds several events each year on the former DHL facility now known as Wilmington Air Park. Speed runs take place on the runway in the background while the foreground pavement is the return lane as well as being used by spectators and other traffic.

We parked then walked to the starting line where a wild variety of vehicles, in no particular order, awaited their turn. It took us awhile to figure it out but we eventually realized that entrants were not timed through the mile but were clocked at its end. There is no need for jackrabbit starts or even super quick acceleration.

After watching a few fairly unexciting starts, we set out for the other end of the track. On the way, we paused at one of the field’s more unusual vehicles. It’s a 1951 Crosley Super Sport whose owner believes will go 110 MPH. Whether it did that today is unknown. In fact, I didn’t realize we had seen the car on course until I was home and looked at my pictures. I’ll update this when results of this meet are posted but, for now, the only performance information I have is the 56.9548 MPH it turned in during the May meet. The website promoted on the car contains little information about the car but does include a video that, along with a certain amount of “Jesus is my mechanic” flavoring, has some pictures of the car being built.

ADDENDUM 27-Aug-2014: The Run Log posted by the ECTA shows that the Crosley managed a run of 97.6987 MPH. Not quite the targeted 110 but getting closer.

One reason that we don’t know how the Crosley did today is that there is nothing like a scoreboard or other visual indication of speeds or anything else. Nor is there any PA in the normal sense. There is a low powered FM radio broadcast which, had we brought a pocket radio or chose to sit in the car, would have kept us informed. As it was, we picked up the occasional scrap of information only when we passed an appropriately tuned radio.

This is pure conjecture but my guess is that about one-third of ECTA members would like more spectators to help with expenses and another third want more spectators to add some legitimacy and prestige to what they are doing. To the remaining third, spectators are probably a real aggravation. When we did hear the announcer, it was interesting and definitely added to the enjoyment. A signboard flashing a car’s speed might help but I think a few radios hanging on poles would help more and probably cost less.

Celebrating the Connection

Posted on May 25, 2014 by Denny

Celebrating two weeks in a row. I’m in either a rut or a groove. Last week’s post was on my visit to the “Diana: A Celebration” exhibit in Cincinnati. This one is on my visit to a “Member Celebration” in Columbus on Saturday, May 24. This is the third such event for the organization though for the first two the celebrants were members of the Ohio Historical Society and they are now members of the Ohio History Connection. The first public use of the new name was part of the celebration.

The “Member Celebration” was at the Ohio History Center and coincided with the season opening of the adjacent Ohio Village which, in turn, coincided with the opening of a two day Civil War era Soldiers’ Aid Fair.

This display of rare and exotic items may not have been the biggest or most highly promoted aspect of the fair but it was my favorite.

Like many events at Ohio Village, a parade preceded an official opening proclamation. Weary and even wounded soldiers, presumably home on leave, joined in and helped elevate both patriotism and sympathy.

The celebration included a members only lunch but this is no small club. The picture shows part of the line, which I eventually joined, for the second seating. The closest things got to formal was a brief speech by Executive Director Bert Logan. There were thanks, of course, and something of an explanation for the name change. Although he didn’t use these exact words, the impression l have is that “Ohio Historical Society” often conjured up images of little old ladies and dusty old men sitting in dim parlors talking about old stuff. In surveys, “Ohio History Connection” created an image of something much more active and accessible. He pointed out that we not only need to preserve things for future generations but make those things available and interesting and understandable for future generations. Judging from the number of youngish folks both attending and participating, it seems Ohio’s history outfit is doing a pretty good job whatever the name.

Don’t Worry Be Hoppy — or Gene or Roy or…

Posted on May 4, 2014 by Denny

I don’t know where Hopalong Cassidy was born. I don’t even know if his creator, Clarence E. Mulford, ever gave Hoppy a past that included parents. But I do know that William Boyd, who portrayed the fictional cowboy in movies and on both TV and radio, was born in Hendrysburg, Ohio, and that once a year, the folks in nearby Cambridge, hold a festival bearing his name. This year, I was paying more attention than usual and managed to attend the festival for the first time.

One of the festival’s big attractions is the collectors exhibit. Virtually everything displayed is for sale but, as is typical, there is a lot more looking than buying. Movie posters, games and other toys, and just about everything else ever associated with the cowboy heroes of the middle third of the last century is in there somewhere.

Cowboy and girl look-alikes are another major attraction. They spent a good deal of time behind tables signing photographs but they could also be seen just walking around the festival. It was easy to imagine a rancher’s wife turning to her husband and asking “Who were those masked men?”

I was there on Saturday which was contest day. First up was the Little Buckaroo Contest. All four participants managed to win a trophy but most of the crowd would have probably been happy if every prize in the place had been awarded to the shy fellow in the second picture.

The look-alike contest was a little more serious but not much. When I saw the phrase “look alikes” on the festival schedule, I envisioned a town full of Hopalong Cassidys. That wasn’t the case at all and I believe that the only real duplication was two Lash Larues. This is a well organized and coordinated activity. There were two John Waynes but one was the eye-patch wearing Rooster Cogburn and the other represented Wayne from an earlier era. Two Lone Rangers marked a changing of the guard. The “blue” Ranger is retiring this year and was introducing the “red” Ranger who, in the future, will be the lone Lone Ranger. In my opinion, anyone who cannot identify the three hombres in the pictures had best stay away from festivals of this sort.

Getting all the contestants in a single picture wasn’t easy. That is an impressive line-up for sure. A panel of judges selected Lash Larue, Tonto, and the Lone Ranger as finalists then audience applause was used to select the winner. Maybe. All three rounds of applause sounded about the same to me and it’s just possible that first place was awarded to the Ranger partly for sentimental reasons. As I mentioned earlier, this is his last appearance and, although he promised he would be back at the festival next year, he will conceal his identity by not wearing a mask.

A third festival draw is this bevy of stars. That’s John Provost of Lassie, Roberta Shore and Don Quine of The Virginian, and Don Collier of High Chaparral in the group picture. Edd Byrnes of 77 Sunset Strip arrived shortly after the picture was taken. That’s John and Edd in the individual shots. Edd’s scheduled appearance got the most discussion when the festival came up a week or so ago. Friends wondered if the former Kookie still owned or needed a comb. I just take the pictures and leave it to others to decide if that hair is eighty years old and/or its natural color.

dfringe I don’t recall ever seeing a Hopalong Cassidy moving picture show in the theater but I was a big fan of the TV show. I remember having a Hopalong cap pistol and holster but my prized possession was a belt. It just now occurred to me that the belt and holster may have originally been a set but my memories are far too dim to say. The belt was black with a script “Hopalong Cassidy” and men on horses in white. I suspect that part of my belt focused favoritism was due to my being able to wear it full time whereas there were Mom defined limits on where I could tote a gun. The name and figures were merely printed on the black leather and were eventually rubbed away so the only a few flecks, none of which resembled a letter or a horse or much of anything else, were left. It was impossible to tell by looking that I accessorized my garb to honor Hoppy but I knew.

The belt’s buckle was stamped out of thin metal to imitate perfectly (I was certain) solid silver. It was always on my left side. Dad worked in a factory and wore his belt buckle on the side to keep it away from his work. I did the same for years and can’t remember when I stopped. I do remember one unintended result. On a visit to the big city (Greenville, Ohio, 2012 population 13,105), probably while Mom tended to my younger sister, I checked the light, looked both ways, and darted into the path of a turning car. It was moving slowly and stopped immediately but I was knocked to the ground. Mom, the driver, and everyone else in the area quickly clustered around me. A thorough examination revealed that my only “injury” was a red and slightly sore impression of the belt buckle on my side. Hopalong Cassidy saved my life.

My search for a picture with the belt came up empty so the best I can do is the shot of me with some sort of cowboy scene on my jacket. I’m not sure Hoppy would approve of the gaudy fringe but I know he would have liked the color.

Valiant No More

Posted on May 2, 2014 by Denny

The Valiant departed this evening for its new home. I thought it would sell for a little more than it did, but I’m satisfied with the price and am much more than satisfied with the purchaser. Even though I claim no child or pet like emotional attachment to the car, it’s still nice to think it is off to a good home and that’s something the several telephone conversations I’ve had with the new owner have made me pretty certain of. Goodbye old girl, you’re going to have a much easier time traveling to Oklahoma than you did propelling yourself from there in July.

Must Be the Season of the Fish

Posted on April 20, 2014 by Denny

Back in 2011, while traveling in northern Ohio during the month of March, it occurred to me that checking out a Lenten fish fry might be a nice break from eating at establishments practicing commercialism full time. It was and I’ve made a habit of patronizing such operations ever since. This year, for what I believe is the first time, I managed to eat at a Friday Fish Fry during every week of Lent and here they are.

The first Friday of Lent coincided with the start of Bockfest. I’m thinking that might not be a coincidence but don’t really know. Since the Bockfest Parade was firmly on my schedule, I opted for one of the few fish fries serving in the afternoon. As it turned out, a downtown church operated their fish fry more or less in conjunction with the festival and I could have combined the two but didn’t realize that until it was too late. While I ate my dinner at the Woodlawn Firefighters Association Fish Fry, a large ambulance and a smaller fire truck sitting next the truck in the picture went speeding off to answer a call.

The second week I left home for something some distance away but changed my mind as soon as I pulled into traffic. Congestion prompted me to head for the reasonably near St. John the Evangelist Church in West Chester. I chose the sampler which got me some fried shrimp, a crab cake, and baked fish. I could have had fried fish with my sampler or I could have had just fish, baked or fried. I also could have had pizza. For crying out loud! Pizza? I suppose you could claim that things started down the slippery slope when they started offering non-fried (i.e., baked, grilled, broiled) fish at functions called “Fish Fries” but, to me, at least, that seems to be much more in keeping with the spirit of things than pizza. At least it was cheese pizza which is in line with the “meatless Fridays” concept on which this whole fish fry business is built.

On week three I drove to Wilmington to meet my friend John with intentions of taking in a fish fry in Lebanon on the way home. When the conversation turned to my fish fry plans, mention was made of very popular one in Washington Court House. Wilmington is roughly midway between my home and Washington Court House which meant that, while it was still several miles away, I was the closest I was likely to be during serving time. I made it to the Saint Colman of Cloyne church with about fifteen minutes to spare. John thought the fry’s fame and popularity came from an abundance of walleye parishioners brought back from the Great Lakes. While that may have once been the case, the big draw currently, in addition to it being an all-you-can-eat affair, is pollock. Apparently it is such a big part of the attraction that they preempt confrontations when they run out by posting the news on the main entry door. The “Sorry, we’re out of pollock” sign was displayed when I arrived and apparently had been for awhile. The cashier reiterated the absence of pollock and suggested I check out remaining offerings before paying then charged me $5 rather than the advertised $8. All that and a cupcake, too.

I would be spending week four’s Friday in Ann Arbor, MI, which meant a little extra research but it sure worked out well. I picked a fish fry within walking distance of my motel for its convenience and lucked into an excellent meal. That salad is from a salad bar. At $2, the add-on clam chowder was a real bargain. There is baked tilapia, mac & cheese, new potatoes, and green beans on the big plate and it was all delicious. And that includes the beans which, unlike the overcooked mush that is all too common, actually had a nice snap. St Francis of Assisi has the best fish fry in the entire state of Michigan AFAIK.

Week five found me back in Wilmington for birthday eve drinks with buddy John which led to this year’s only repeat, St Columbkille. Baked tilapia was on the menu but was at least temporarily in short supply and its consumption was ever so slightly being discouraged. I didn’t mind a bit and enjoyed a more traditional fish fry meal of cod that was actually fried. Cherry pie included.

This is where I was headed on week number two when the traffic caused me to reconsider. St Veronica is just down the road from Mt Carmel Brewery where I had intended to stop after dinner. Since then, I learned that the taproom now opens at noon on Fridays so I left home earlier, avoided the traffic, and visited the taproom before dinner. This was a good meal and I’m happy that clam chowder is starting to show up more and more. Also showing up more and more are non-fish items like pizza and grilled cheese sandwiches. I believe I actually saw grilled ham & cheese on the menu here but I’ve got no proof so maybe I imagined it. I’d like to think that’t the case.

Plans with friends meant I couldn’t make a Good Friday fish fry for dinner but I found one that fit my schedule. Lunch at the Knights of Columbus in Erlanger was my only fish fry outing in Kentucky this year although I’ve gone to other locations in the state in the past. Their dinner menu is pretty complete with baked and fried fish along with shrimp, chicken!, and hamburgers!!. The only thing on the lunch menu is the sandwich in the picture but it’s a pretty good sandwich that comes with french fries and hush-puppies for a mere $5. I asked about those Lenten hamburgers and was told they don’t sell many. Maybe one a week to some youngster. Chicken nuggets, however, move rather well. But fish fries aren’t restricted to Lent for this particular K of C council. In addition to being held every Friday during Lent, they hold a fish fry on the first Friday of every month during the rest of the year. Non-Lenten hamburgers sell really well.

HBW2Me

Posted on April 6, 2014 by Denny

Happy Birth Week to Me. A week that ends on Saturday has to start on Sunday but not much happened Sunday. Monday, however, was a different story. It was Opening Day. With temperatures climbing into the sixties, it was a fine day to start the Reds’ season and really get my birth week rolling. I often visit Arnold’s after the Opening Day Parade but this year decided to start my day there when I learned that Cincinnati’s oldest bar would be tapping several unusual beers at 9:00 and serving breakfast from 9:00 to 11:00. I passed on the early morning beer but did enjoy breakfast in what I believe is Arnold’s only window seat.

Arnold’s normally opens at 11:00 with lunch as the first meal of the day. The special breakfast menu was short. Kids under five could have scrambled eggs. Adults had three choices none of which appear on the menu at IHOP. There were hot dogs, for those wanting to get an early start on the ball park diet plus Sausage Gravy Bread Pudding and Geotta Hot Brown. I decided that the Geotta Hot Brown was the most “Cincinnati” of the choices plus, as you can see by the picture, it’s just the thing if you’re planning on running the bases several times later in the day. As I was leaving, sometime after 10:00, I heard a waitress telling new arrivals that the goetta supply had been depleted and that ham was now being substituted. Bummer but technically not a violation of Porkopolis guidelines.

I reached the parade’s Findlay Market starting point well before the noon step-off and was working my way back along the parade route when things began to roll. I was not at a very good vantage point when Grand Marshall Dave Concepción came by but managed an only partially obscured picture. The scene in the last picture is an unusual one. Because of street car construction, the parade, which usually runs straight down Race Street, detoured over to Elm for several blocks which took it right by Music Hall. It is expected to be back on Race next year.

I am aware of a campaign to make opening day a national holiday (or maybe — it is organized by Budweiser — it’s a campaign to sell beer) but I don’t see that happening. The fact that not all teams open the same day is just one of the details bedeviling the idea. It is really immaterial to Cincinnatians since opening day has been a de facto holiday here for decades. Sometimes Reds opening day and my birthday actually do coincide as they did in 2012 when I wrote a little more about opening day history.

Tuesday was nice but windy. As I ate lunch on the patio of a local pizzeria, a strong gust lifted the large umbrella standing unopened in the center of the table and tried to drop it on my head. It missed. Rain arrived Wednesday afternoon but I got in about a 6K walk before it hit. Six kilometers isn’t all that much when there is a bar and a meal at the turnaround point. On Thursday, I bought myself a birthday present and ate it. I finally made it to the Precinct where I devoured what might have been the best steak I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. The only possible exception is a filet I ate at the Pine Club in Dayton but it is only a possibility. More research is needed.

Good times continued on Friday with a few drinks with buddy John in Wilmington and a continuation of this year’s fish fry streak at Saint Columbkille.

On Saturday, my actual birthday, I had to work. Well, maybe not exactly work. OK, not even remotely work. It did, however, involve just about the only thing I do on a regular schedule, live trivia. The team once again qualified for the semi-finals which took place at noon. I really intended to get a picture to include in this post but completely forgot in the heat of competition. The top five teams move on to the finals. We tied for sixth.

My plans for the rest of the day centered around doing nothing. It was a beautiful day, however, with temperature in the fifties so, as soon as I got home, I headed out for a walk. Within a few steps, I came to the realization that I could continue the celebration and not leave the neighborhood. Not only did I personally stay close to home, there’s hope that some of the money I spent will stay nearby as well. I made three stops and all were at regional chains based in Cincinnati. I started with a 4-way at Skyline, had Chocolate Coconut Almond Chocolate Chip for dessert at Graeter’s, then washed it all down with Mount Carmel Amber Ale at Flipdaddy’s. A birthday that was good to the last drop.

Chip Shot

Posted on March 30, 2014 by Denny

Maybe I wouldn’t normally drive to Michigan just for a concert and maybe I wouldn’t normally drive to northern Ohio just for a potato chip, but at the trailing edge of a winter that has snow falling in the last week of March, either would have qualified as raison d’roadtrip. Together, they could not be denied.

As a child, I had a certain amount of fondness for the well-oiled curled-up and crunchy product of the long gone Star Potato Chip Company in nearby North Star, Ohio. There was also a brief period in my early twenties when I faced the risk of addiction to Mikesell’s Green Onion Potato Chips. Since then, although I’ve certainly eaten my share of chips and crisps and even those impostors that are neatly stacked in tubes, I’ve not had a favorite. I hadn’t really thought about it until a Jim Grey blog post made me realize that I lived in a state that was a legitimate “King of the Chips” contender. The post is here and well worth reading but the important point for me was that Jim, after some serious research, had picked two Ohio made chips as his favorites.

The musical part of the equation is that Willie Nile, who I’ve recently discovered I like a lot, would play his last concert before heading to Spain in Ann Arbor, Michigan. One of Jim’s picks is based in Tiffin, Ohio, which is, if you look at it with the proper motivation, right on the way to Ann Arbor. You could also look at it with the idea that, once you’ve driven to Tiffin, Ann Arbor is just a hop, skip, and a jump farther. Either way works for me.

I headed north on I-75 then left the interstate at Findlay to follow US 224 to Tiffin. If I had studied the history of Ballreich Brothers Inc. a little better, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find it in what is basically a residential area on the east side of town. Big buildings have been built and much equipment installed over the last 90+ years but the company remains located right where Fred and Ethel Ballreich started making potato chips in a copper kettle in their garage in 1920. Although the company store is open Monday through Friday during the Christmas season, the normal schedule is Friday’s only. Lucky thing that I was going to a Friday concert and even luckier that I checked in advance since I initially thought of stopping on the way home. In addition to all the company’s snack products, the store offers clothing, mugs, and other items bearing the company logo. I grabbed both a large and a small bag of the Original Marcelled chips and a big bag of sweet potato chips which were unexpected but immediately snagged my interest. I intended to also get a small bag of Sour Cream & Onion but another surprise, Salt & Vinegar, must have distracted me because I let the Sour Cream & Onion get away.

I had forgotten that a Jolly’s Root Beer stand existed in Tiffin but instantly recalled the connection with the two in Hamilton, Ohio. The ones in Hamilton can be traced back to 1938 and founder Vinny Jolivette. This one was started by Vinny’s brother, Roy, in 1947. The stand surprised me but the fact that it was open — with temperatures in the 40s — surprised me even more. I’m sure the idea started to form as soon as I saw the Jolly’s sign and it was fully formed by the time I left the Ballreich company store. Rather than having my first Ballreich experience in the parking lot or as I drove out of town, I headed back to the drive-in and that’s how the photo at the top of the article came to be.

Even though I thought I knew what Jim was talking about with his dry chips and moist chips, it wasn’t until I chomped down on one of Ballreich’s beauties that I really understood. All the moisture and much of the flavor had disappeared from my chip supply so gradually that I didn’t consciously miss it. I do now, of course, but I fortunately live in Ohio and, even though Ballreich’s hasn’t reached Cincinnati yet, I frequently pass thorough places where they are supposed to be available. I’ll be OK.

I asked a couple Michiganers about independent motels in Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti resident, Russell Rein, reported that only one remained standing that he knew of. One was enough. The Lamp Post Inn had pretty good reviews, reasonable rates, and a very acceptable location. There is a peek inside my room here. The location became more than acceptable when I searched for Friday Lenten “fish fries” and found one within walking distance of the motel. I’ve made a habit of attending a variety of such events for the last few years and this year am planning on posting some sort of summary after Easter.

The concert venue, The Ark, was just a couple of miles away. It’s quite a nice place on the second floor of the building in the picture. I’m guessing that it seats no more than 300 and less than a third of those are reserved. I had been able to buy the last reserved seat because, as is often the case, few people want a single seat. Overall, the show was close to being sold out but not quite.

I bought a Nile CD, Places I Have Never Been, at that impressive concert in Newport, Kentucky, in February (my post here) then ordered American Ride online. Those two CDs, one more than twenty years old and the other less than a year old, went into heavy rotation in the car. I was becoming quite a fan and thinking I’d like to see another show now that I was a little better prepared. The Ann Arbor show was not only the last in the States for awhile, it was also the closest. Every time I listened to one of those CDs, I would be ready to make plans as soon as I got home. Then some time would pass and I would talk myself out of it. Eventually I listened to Willie Nile and read about potato chips on the same day.

The lineup was the same as it had been in February. Guitarist Matt Hogan and Bassist Johnny Pisano had a little more room than they had in Newport and used it. They certainly had not stood still at the earlier show but here they were just a little showier and they also teased each other a little more. A picture here is just a hint at how much fun they were having together. I’ve read that Alex Alexander has played at least some of the shows since Newport but not this one. I’d kind of like to see the group with him sometime but I sure can’t complain about the job that Larry’s doing. I claimed to have forgotten his last name when I wrote about the concert in Newport but now I have to think that I never heard it properly. Beers! How could I forget the name Beers? Larry Beers is the name and top notch drumming is his game.

Willie is now off to tour Spain but will be back in the US in May. There is currently nothing very close to me on his schedule but I’ll keep watching. I’ve a lot of catching up to do.

P.S., The sweet potato chips are excellent.

ADDENDUM 2-Apr-2014: I don’t know how I missed this obvious title connection when I wrapped up this post Saturday night. Earlier in the day, as I left Columbus in traffic, I heard a now familiar clack and soon located this crater in my windshield. “Chip shot” indeed!

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