I 75

The title is not a reference to a popular north-south expressway but a declaration that I have been around for three-quarters of a century. The first quarter was filled with school, drumming, marriage, working, kids, and enjoying life. The second quarter was filled with working, divorce, marriage, divorce, kids, and enjoying life. The third quarter has been filled with working, retirement, traveling, writing, and enjoying life. I’m not sure what — beyond enjoying life — the fourth quarter will bring but I’m looking forward to it.

I’ve always wanted to have hair like Peter Frampton, and now I do. Many years ago, I told myself (and a few others) that when my hair loss reached a certain point, what remained would go too. Although I never really specified what that point was, I’m pretty sure I’ve gone beyond what I had in mind at the time. Once I acknowledged that, I had only to pick an occasion and have at it. Birthday #75 seems as appropriate an occasion as any.

Including this picture in this post also seemed appropriate. I’ve used it before — originally for a retirement anniversary then later for a birthday — but it’s not worn out. At least no more worn out than the old guy on the bench and it pretty much sums up what I think of on my birthday. I usually celebrate, after a fashion, by treating myself extra nice but I do find birthdays are good occasions for remembering all the folks I’ve known who have been denied the privilege of growing older.

Getting Springy in Cincy

When spring arrived on Sunday morning, the only item on my calendar for Monday had nothing to do with the season. That quickly changed and I went to bed with a full day planned for the first full (i.e., 24 hour) day of spring. The annual butterfly show at Krohn Conservatory had just opened on Friday and I was happy to see that plenty of tickets remained for Monday. I grabbed one for the time slot with the most remaining which happened to be noon.

The Egyptian-styled columns near the entrance hint at this year’s “Butterflies of the Nile” theme. Last year I was the first of my group to enter the Butterfly Showroom so was able to snap a picture of the room with only plants, butterflies, and a single attendant. I wasn’t that lucky this year. Not only were there more people in the room when I entered but there would also be more throughout my time there. Attendance is limited to 100 per hour this year compared to 40 per hour in 2021.

As in previous years, I made no attempt to identify the butterflies but merely photographed them.

Unlike previous years, I did not see lots of sugar water dispensers. There has always been fresh fruit available to hungry flitterers but it seems to really be emphasized this year. Maybe that will help the butterflies keep their weight down as the show goes on.

Everyone is given a scratch and sniff card for use in attracting butterflies but clearly, not everyone needs it. This year I was one of those and had a hitchhiker for more than half of my time there. Several people mentioned it to keep the fellow from being prematurely flattened but a young girl was the first. I think that might be her hand slipping the card under the fence. It was her mother who took the picture of my passenger and I think I only stuttered slightly as I asked.

My next stop was in Ault Park to check on the cherry trees. Butterflies at Krohn have been a sign of spring only since 1996. Cherry blossoms at Ault go back to the 1930s when 1,000 Japanese weeping cherry trees were given to the city and planted in the park. In 2008, these were augmented by 121 Somei Yoshino trees.

Not all of the trees were in bloom on Monday but enough were to make my visit more than worthwhile. Plus, it’s quite obvious that more blooms are on the way.

The trees full of white and pink blossoms are certainly beautiful in their own right but they can sometimes be used as a backdrop for something even more beautiful.

 

The day’s third stop, and the item that was on the calendar first, was at Playhouse in the Park. The theater is in the middle of a $50 million expansion that includes a new main stage. Monday’s event was one of several aimed at raising the last million of the fifty. I’m not a big donor or even a season ticket holder but do usually attend one or two performances each year and am on some mailing list somewhere. I enjoyed getting the update and look forward to the opening of the new theater which is planned for March 2023.

Pi at Phi

The Golden Ratio is represented by the Greek letter Phi (Φ). The ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter is represented by the Greek letter Pi (Π). The Fibonacci Sequence, where the sum of each consecutive pair of numbers equals the following number, is closely related to Phi. Mount Healthy’s Fibonacci Brewing takes its name from this sequence. The first three digits of Pi are 3.14. Because this looks like March 14 when written American style, that date has become known as Pi Day. Because Pi and pie are homophones, it naturally became popular to eat pie on Pi Day. At Fibonacci Brewing, great honor is bestowed on the person consuming an entire pie the fastest without using their hands. Yes, everything about this, starting with Phi and Pi, is irrational. But it sure is fun.

Betty Bollas, who owns Fibonacci Brewing along with her husband Bob, says the idea for the event came to her in a dream. The brewery held its first Pi Day celebration in 2018. Mark from Brink Brewing, the guy in the opening photo, won. He won again in 2019. He didn’t get a chance in 2020 because the event was canceled with just days to go. Ohio’s official COVID triggered shutdown of bars and restaurants occurred on March 15 but it was already obvious that a big gathering at that time would not be a great idea. The event did not even reach the planning stage in 2021 but it’s back for 2022 with a nice white table cloth and a line of boxes filled with North College Hill Bakery cherry pies.

I apologize for not knowing who’s who but I do know that Urban Artifact, Humble Monk, Higher Gravity, Marty’s Hops N Vines, and Brink are all represented and that the guy in the center is a last-minute volunteer from the crowd recruited to tackle an unassigned pie. One of these pictures was taken at 7:05 and the other at 7:06.

Andrew Desenberg, a.k.a. The Gnarly Gnome, MCed while two unidentified fans cheered on the competitors. I have to wonder just how much standing while eating helped Zane from Humble Monk munch his way to victory. His name will now be added to the Fibonacci-Pi trophy just like Indy 500 winners are added to the Borg-Warner trophy. The Borg-Warner is currently valued at $3.5 million. Give it time.


I did my own pie eating before and after the competition. The before part was at Mom’s Restaurant where I got the next to last piece of apple pie. The after part was at the brewery with a pie from Big Dog’s Pizza truck. I sat down for both, used my hands, ate slowly, and enjoyed every bite.

Bock Bock Goat

Cincinnati’s Bockfest has fared relatively well during the pandemic. It slipped in just ahead of the big shutdown in 2020 and muddled through 2021 with a few venues and some coordinated at-home celebrations. I believe there was even a very short parade around Dunlap Cafe but I can’t find any record of it. For 2022, it’s back in all its glory including a full-size parade with staging at Arnold’s just as it should be. ERRATUM 10-Mar-2022: My memory of Dunlap Cafe staging a short substitute for a canceled parade was only partially correct. It did happen but it was for the 2021 Cincinnati Reds Opening Day Parade, not the Bockfest Parade,

Lenten fish fries suffered a bunch because of COVID but it looks like they will also be operating somewhat like normal this year. In the past, I have walked past the fish fry at Old St. Mary’s Church as I followed the parade. I’m going to try patronizing a fish fry every week this year and got things started by reaching downtown early enough to stop by St. Mary’s before the parade. I munched on the tasty sandwich as I continued on to Arnold’s.

At Arnold’s, I grabbed a Moerlein Bar Bender bock to wash down the sandwich as the parade was being organized — and I use the term loosely — in the street in front of the bar.

The parade began to move a few minutes ahead of the scheduled 6:00 PM start. Seeing Cincinnati legend Jim Tarbell near the front helped make things feel normal.

Of course, Jim wasn’t the only familiar and reassuring parade entry.

And there were plenty of new entries and old entries in new guises.

I always appreciate the touch of glamour that the Court of the Sausage Queen and the energetic dance troupes add.

The parade’s endpoint has been moved to Findley Market Playground from the closed Moerlein facility on Moore street. Despite the structure’s obvious lack of both bricks and mortar, it is still called Bock Hall rather than Bock Tent.

Perry Huntoon and his son were in town for the festival and we met up outside Bock Hall. After one Hudepohl Bock, we walked up the street to the slightly less crowded but at least as noisy Northern Row Brewery. Northern Row was actually serving their bock at a stand outside the big tent but, even though the brewery was rather full, the beer line was much shorter.


Rhinegeist Brewery is sort of just around the corner and Perry and Erik turned in there while I headed on to the car and home. I extended my Bockfest involvement just a little on Saturday with a visit to Fibonacci Brewing. That’s Honey Doppelbock on the counter. It is named after the goat with the splash of white on her head. I also tried Fiddlehead Maibock, named after the white goat. I guess Buttercup, the third goat, doesn’t have a beer named after her yet.

Big Heads on Parade

This is one of those embarrassing moments when I experience something for the first time that has been going on for years right under my nose and is so cool I should have been attending regularly.  It’s the Mainstrasse Mardi Gras Parade in Covington, Kentucky. I’ve heard of Mardi Gras in Covington and possibly even heard there was a parade but I don’t remember. What I do remember is news reports about inebriated revelers trashing yards and peeing in bushes. It didn’t sound like a place I wanted to be. But this year I read about the parade with participants wearing gigantic papier-mâché heads and that very much sounded like something I wanted to see.

I reached the staging area with enough time to snap pictures of some of the big heads before they covered smaller heads.

Then got pictures of a few of those heads in place but not yet marching. I really don’t know just when this first began. One person I asked said, “At least ten years.” Another thought it started “around 2000”. I overheard someone telling a friend, “The last time I came down for this was twenty years ago”. I imagine I’ll eventually find something online that tells me, but not yet.

There were plenty of normal-sized heads in the parade and everybody was clearly having a lot of fun.

But it was the big heads that had gotten my attention and set the parade apart.

Most of the Mainstrasse restaurants and bars were fairly full before the parade started and became downright packed when it ended. Many had doormen posted to keep occupancy to legal levels. I moved away from the center of the festivities until I found a bar that was busy but not overcrowded and had one beer before heading home. I’ve absolutely nothing against partying in the streets for Mardi Gras but I’m too old and the street’s too cold.   

Loveland Hearts Afire

Loveland didn’t start out as a land of love and romance. A store owner named James Loveland supplied its name. But it has worked hard to justify its “Sweetheart of Ohio” nickname with things like its Valentine Re-mailing Program. This year it cranked things up a notch with Hearts Afire Weekend. Activities like a date auction, speed dating, and pet adoption filled the pre-Valentine’s Day weekend but for me, the attraction was the ice carving display.

I photographed nearly all of the twenty-some carvings but am including just a few of my favorites. With the local pro footballers playing in the big game on Valentine’s Day Eve, you knew that there would be a tiger or two in the mix.

Maybe the carving of a frog was inspired by the legend of the Loveland Frog. Maybe not.

There was dancing in the street with Premier Tumbling and Dance instigating, and inside City Hall, the King and Queen of Hearts greeted shoppers headed to Heartland Market.

I grabbed photos of the raw materials and tools waiting in front of city hall for the ice carving demonstrations.

Then returned a little later to watch some of those demos.

I didn’t stick around for the fireworks but did take advantage of a wonderful opportunity to look at love from both sides.

On With the Snow/Show

I did something pretty stupid this week and this is my confession. Some of the nasty weather running around the country came to my neighborhood. On Wednesday, the National Weather Service issued a winter storm warning for southwest Ohio that would begin at midnight and remain in effect until 7:00 AM Friday. At just about the midpoint of that thirty-one-hour period, I set off on a hundred-mile drive to Dayton and back.

Nearly four months ago, when one February day seemed as good as any other, I purchased a ticket to see Hamilton at the Schuster Center in Dayton, Ohio. On Thursday, as various alerts and other weather-related stories popped up, I thought the show might be canceled and took a look at the theater website where I found this banner displayed. The small print says, “All performances will go on as scheduled unless there is a Level 3 Snow Emergency in Montgomery County, Ohio.” Since purchasing the ticket, I had received a few emails with advice on parking and restaurants and some other details about attending the performance including one that arrived at noon on Thursday. Read about Ohio’s three levels of snow emergencies here.

Normal driving time to the theater would be under an hour but I knew that would not now be the case. I figured I should leave about 5:00 for the 7:30 show. About 4:20, I called the theater looking for real-time human confirmation that the show would go on. After sixteen minutes on hold, a recording asked me to leave a message for a callback. The callback came about fifteen minutes later but I somehow missed it. The caller left voicemail that didn’t show up on my phone until I was in the theater. Cell phones can really act funny and sometimes mine seems funnier than most. Answering the call or learning of the message earlier wouldn’t have actually made a difference since the message just reaffirmed the banner on the website.

So this is where the stupid begins. In spite of seeing roughly four inches of snow at my garage door and knowing that the streets at my condominium hadn’t been touched, I thought the expressways might be better. When I saw that they weren’t, I should have turned around but instead, I turned on a Dayton (actually Yellow Springs) station thinking the expressways at my destination might be better. Hearing that a section of I-75 (which I was headed to) in Dayton was closed was another nudge toward reversing course but I didn’t. The closure had been announced earlier and by the time I actually reached the expressway, there was an announcement that it had reopened through Dayton. However, all exits into downtown were blocked. I did not turn around then, either.

Montgomery County went to a Level 2 Snow Emergency around 5:30. Images of the show being canceled just as I arrived began to form in my head but instead of turning around, I placed another call to the theater. This time I eventually reached a person who told me that the show had not been canceled but that they were now offering refunds to anyone choosing not to attend. Even though I was now past the halfway point, I probably should have headed home but nope.

Some downtown exits, including the one I planned to take, were indeed blocked but there were others open. I passed the theater and pulled into the parking garage. There was to be an $8.00 charge for parking but the attendant waved everybody in from behind a handwritten “FREE PARKING” sign.

This is my view from the front row of the lower balcony. It was a fantastic location for visuals but maybe not so good for audio. I really do wish I had made some effort to familiarize myself with the lyrics beforehand. There were multiple reasons for me not understanding every word including my relatively ancient ears. That my bum hearing played a role was supported by the fact that people near me reacted to some lines I didn’t understand at all. On the other hand, at intermission (after Washington has become President) a person a few seats away asked if the war was over. Nonetheless, I take full responsibility for not following some of the details. I went away quite impressed with the performance and even more impressed with the creativity behind it.

Snow was still falling when the play let out but it was very light. The streets didn’t look much different than when I arrived. Inside the garage, some of the snow that I had picked up on the way had fallen off but I was confident that I could get those wheel wells packed again in almost no time.

There was a line of cars exiting the garage but by the time I was a block or two away, the streets were looking pretty empty. The expressways were fairly empty too. They weren’t entirely deserted but the traffic was sparse and slow and everybody stayed in their own lane — as far as I know.

Although I didn’t actually see it until Friday morning, this message was emailed about a quarter to 6:00 on Thursday. A similar message was posted to Facebook and the website, presumedly about the same time.

Benny’s Back

The last Saturday of January 2021 came and went without fireworks or other hoopla in Buckeye Lake, Ohio. That’s normally the day of the Buckeye Lake Winterfest but the event, like so many others, fell victim to COVID-19. Interestingly, the previous year’s Winterfest was one of the last pre-pandemic events I attended. The blog entry is here. A December 2020 newspaper article announcing the postponement said organizers were hoping to hold the event in the spring but that seems not to have happened. What attracted me to the event in the first place was its use of Benny the Bass in a Puxsuntawny Phil style role in predicting the timing of warmer weather. Last year, people were not nearly as interested in when winter would end as when the pandemic would. That may actually be true this year as well, but Benny was back on the job in any case.

I was on my way north long before dawn was even thinking about cracking. In 2020, I parked near the brewery and walked to and from the park where Benny makes his prediction. This year, with snow on the ground and near-zero temperatures, I had no desire to do much walking and drove directly to the park. There were a few cars present when I arrived but not many. Before getting out of my car, I decided to drive to the other side of town for coffee.

By the time I returned, Benny and quite a few fans had arrived. I managed to get the closeup of the real Benny at the top of this post before it got too crowded, and I got a shot of the mascot Benny — but not a very good one — a bit later. Removing a glove to take pictures was something I kept to a minimum and taking pictures with both gloves on was something that kept picture quality to a minimum.

In the predawn darkness, the shadow-based method of predicting that groundhogs employ is useless. Instead, a bunch of minnows is dumped into Benny’s tank and a one-minute countdown begins. If the time expires without Benny downing a minnow, six more weeks of winter is to be expected. If a minnow is gone before the time is, we’ll have an early spring. Either way, we get fireworks.

In 2020, the crowd chanted “Eat it, Benny”. This year they seemed too cold to chant much of anything despite the MC leading the more official “Take the Bait. Spring can’t wait.” cheer. That, plus repeated playings of the new Winterfest song, may have done the trick. All the minnows survived until the thirty-second warning and several seconds longer but then…

I took the picture of Benny’s tank and prediction once the area was sufficiently clear of bodies to get a clear view. Once the park was sufficiently clear of cars that I could get out of my parking space, I drove directly to Our Lakeside Diner for the traditional (It is now!) perch and eggs breakfast. Incidentally, this place definitely knows how to serve coffee.

Then it was down the street to the Buckeye Lake Brewery for another tradition. When I was here in 2020, I delayed having a beer until I had walked around the town quite a bit. This year, despite a fourfold increase in temperature since I’d arrived, I had no desire for a stroll of any length. So the perch was quickly followed by a Winterfest Ale and that was quickly followed by my departure for home.

A Cosmic Reason for the Season — Reredux

The following article first appeared in 2019 then reappeared in 2020 when the Fort Ancient winter solstice sunrise program was canceled. I have seen nothing specifically about the program this year but know that the site will be open between 7 and 10 AM on December 21, the day of the solstice. That’s a Tuesday which is a day that the site is normally closed this time of year. It is clearly being opened for sunrise and a program of some sort seems possible.

The article’s first publication occurred one day after the solstice. The next year, it was one day before. This year it is two days before. That shifting comes from our efforts to make Sol, Luna, and Earth play nice together. Most of this blog’s posts, and all three posts of this article, occur on Sundays. Days of the week usually shift by one each year because seven does not fit evenly into 365. The two day shift between the article’s first and second appearance was because seven is an even worse fit for 366 and 2020 was a leap year. The seven-day week isn’t quite as arbitrary as it might first appear but neither is it an intuitive unit of measure. The moon circles Earth every 29.5 days. The Egyptians divided that into three ten-day periods. Four eight-day Roman weeks or seven-day Babylonian weeks fit less precisely but could be tied, albeit imperfectly,  to the moon’s four phases. The Babylonian seven-day week was spread far and wide by Alexander the Great, and as Rome moved into Alex’s old stomping grounds, it began to think that way too. The western world’s week became pretty much established in 321 CE when Constantine declared that an official Roman week was comprised of seven days. This Sunday post precedes the winter solstice of 2021 by 2 days; 2 days, 4 hours, and 58 minutes to be precise. 


Calendars come and calendars go and Earth just keeps on turning. And it keeps on orbiting, too. The turning bit creates what we call days. The alternating periods of light and dark impact almost all life on the planet and humans adopted the day as a basic unit of measure pretty early on. What we call years comes from Earth orbiting the Sun. There was plenty of time for early humans to stare at the sky and not a whole lot to keep them from doing it. They couldn’t help but notice that things in the sky moved around. In time, some of the more observant among them realized that not all that movement was random and eventually some patterns were noted. I can’t imagine how exciting it was when some smart guy figured out that the sun popped up at the same point about every 365 days. Of course, that “about” would be very important.

The opening photo shows the sun rising yesterday over a “gateway” in the earthen enclosure at Fort Ancient. The photo at left was taken a bit later and includes a small mound inside the enclosure in the foreground. When the mound, gateway, and sunrise align, sunset will follow sooner than on any other day of the year. This is the northern hemisphere’s Winter Solstice. It is the day when the sun is above the horizon for less time than any other day of the year, and yesterday that amounted to 9 hours, 25 minutes, and 9 seconds. Although we talk about Solstice being a day, it is technically just an instant. It is the moment when the Sun is farthest north or south of Earth’s equator. It happens twice each year and happened yesterday at 23:19 EST.

Serpent Mound, another ancient earthen structure containing solar alignments, is a little more than forty miles southeast of Fort Ancient. The serpent’s head is aligned with the Summer Solstice sunset. Body coils align with Summer and Winter Solstice sunrises. For several years, a modern event known as Lighting of the Serpent took place there at Winter Solstice. It was discontinued in 2017. The picture at right is from 2014 which is the only time I attended.

Long before they knew anything about orbits and equators, humans knew the day of Winter Solstice was special. It is the point where each successive day receives more rather than less daylight. It’s the big turnaround that will eventually lead to the warmth of spring and summer. It is clearly a day worth celebrating and it has indeed been celebrated in many different cultures in many different ways.

During their existence, humans have developed a slew of calendar systems. Several actually remain in use today, but the Gregorian calendar is the one most widely accepted. In the late sixteenth century, this started replacing the Julian calendar which had been around for all of those sixteen centuries and then some. The Julian calendar had been created by folks who calculated that a year was 365 and 1/4 days long which was a lot more accurate than an even 365. They came up with the rather clever idea of adding an extra day every four years to balance things out.

We now know that a year is 365.2422 days long. A year is the length of time it takes Earth to orbit the Sun, a day is the length of time it takes Earth to rotate, and neither is adjustable. When the Julian calendar was first adopted, the northern hemisphere’s Winter Solstice fell on December 25 but it slowly drifted away. Someone in authority thought to put an end to this nonsense by declaring December 25 the official solstice. But those non-adjustable orbits and rotations kept doing what they were doing and the official solstice and actual solstice just kept getting farther and farther apart.

The Gregorian calendar, which we have used for roughly 400 years now, put an end to that. Like the Julian calendar, it considers most years to be 365 days long but has a more involved system of “leap years” that add an extra day. The result is that over a long enough period our years will average 365.2422 days in length. Not only did the new calendar eliminate future drift, it tried to correct for some of the previous drift by throwing away ten days. The calendar’s namesake’s full-time job was as Pope of the Catholic Church. Ditching those ten days moved the solstice to December 22 which is where it had been in 325 when the church was founded. Of course, some holidays that had been tied to the official solstice (which hadn’t been anywhere near the actual solstice for some time) would continue to be celebrated on December 25.

Anyone wanting a more complete discussion of calendars, solstices, and holidays will find one here. Additional information on Fort Ancient is available here.

Holly Days Under Glass

I’d read that Dayton’s Arcade has been the focus of major restoration efforts and that some tenants have moved in and that others were on the way. But I had also read that most of the structure, including the 90-foot rotunda, was not yet open to the general public full time. I had completely missed some opening-related events that had been held in the rotunda but finally got my act together on the second day of Holly Days 2021. It’s an event that the Arcade has hosted in the past. The most recent, however,  was in 1993.

In recent years the Third Street facing side of the building shown in the opening photo is the image assigned to the structure in my mind. Almost all of my memories of the Arcade are, strangely enough, from the outside. My only memory of the inside is of a straight glass-topped walkway that I believe is behind the giant smiling face and was once lined with shops. I vaguely recall stepping into that area in the tow of an aunt on a mission. I have no recollection at all of what she bought but I’m fairly certain that we reversed paths once the purchase was made and I never reached the rotunda. I automatically assumed that access to Holly Days would be through that arch but it was not. My first view of the rotunda was from a normal hallway behind these bland glass doors on Fourth Street.

I had seen plenty of pictures so that first view didn’t shock me but it sure did impress me. I actually think I was more surprised by the bustling crowd than the phenomenal restoration work. I’m pretty sure crowds only bustle during the holidays and possibly only when their focus is gift shopping. About half of the rotunda was filled with potential gifts and this crowd was clearly bustling.

Crowds would have also filled the rotunda in its earliest days and they might have even bustled on occasion. It opened in 1904 as a farmers market which explains the turkeys, ram heads, and fruit decorating the upper walls. Note that cardinal directions, such as east and south, are marked on pillars along with some of the more popular intermediate directions like 159° and 212°.

During Holly Days, a variety of entertainment utilized the rotunda’s north side (i.e., the side opposite the big S). While I was there on Wednesday afternoon, the Miami Valley Dance Company performed selected dances from The Nutcracker.

How something like this could have come as close as it did to vanishing is a question I’ve asked before about other treasures but there is hardly ever an answer. In the end, we just have to be thankful when the wrecking ball is avoided and doubly thankful when something not only dodges the ball but comes back looking like this. If you are unfamiliar with the Arcade’s history, I recommend checking out the information provided here. I also suggest taking a look at Ronny Salerno’s 2016 The Dayton Arcade for a glimpse at what it came back from. Ronny even has a picture of the bit I think I remember.