Tag Archives: Dayton Ohio

Dayton Porchfest 2023

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I attended my first Porchfest in 2018. It was Dayton’s second. Despite good intentions, I did not make it back in 2019 and there understandably wasn’t one in 2020. Dayton did hold Porchfests in 2021 and 2022 but they did it without me. I guess I sort of forgot about them until I saw an ad of some sort a few weeks ago. Ithaca, NY, had the first Porchfest in 2007. The Dayton Porchfest was number 94. There are now more than 150 taking place each year.

That opening picture of Baker & Collins, of the band Berachah Valley, probably looks exactly like what you expect a porch fest to look like but that is not the way this one started. At 12:15, after a few announcements,  Phil’s Big Azz Brass Band kicked off the music in a parking lot. No porch could hold them.

Starting at 1:00, and continuing for the next six hours, eight to ten concerts began on porches — or something similar — throughout the Saint Anne’s Hill section of Dayton every hour on the hour. After listening to a few tunes from Baker & Collins, I moved on to catch a few from Jimmy D. Rogers then around the corner to catch a few more from Dennis Geehan and the Storied Blues Project.

This is crabswithoutlegs who, in addition to having a name that triggers a plethora of questions, were probably the highlight of my day. They are on a back porch in a fenced yard completely filled with people with more listening outside the fence. Fortunately, there was a small but steady stream of folks moving to other porches so I was able to slip inside the fence for a bit. This extremely tight jazz fusion group was made extra impressive by the apparent young age of every member.

They and I performed on a very real porch although it faced a side yard rather than the street. I had paused for a beverage at the Fifth Street Brewpub as the 1:00 concerts came to an end then spent a little extra time taking in crabswithoutlegs. As a result, I only managed to hear pieces of two of the 2:00 concerts.

Sharon Lane was the first of the 3:00 performers I saw. I’ve included a shot of the building where she performed to show that she really was on a porch. The porch that Novena performed on was much more open and stage-like.

Other 3:00 concerts I saw included Austin Wolfel, Tim Gebard & the Hit Men, and Dave Zup who performed in the street while his accompaniment was on a porch.

There is no such thing as too much music but there was more music than I could take in. It wasn’t really practical to attend all of the eight or more concerts occurring simultaneously plus I did not make it to the end of the festival. In 2018, it was rain that caused me to leave early. In 2023, it was my legs. Four hours (minus one beer) of walking wore me out. I know I missed a lot. Porchfest is a great concept and Dayton, via Saint Anne’s Hill, does it right.

 

Treading the Trails of Trolls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buddy, Can You Lend Me a Sign?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leo da Vinci and the Forty Machines

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I’ve read that, once upon a time, ordinary people rarely needed to count past forty and that forty became another way of saying “a whole bunch”. That implies that Noah and family might not have watched it rain for precisely forty days and nights and that Ali Baba may not have encountered exactly forty bad guys. We have outgrown that, of course, and today use numbers like gazillion when we are tired of counting even though that probably occurs long before we reach forty. That is not, however, the case with this post. The Leonardo da Vinci: Machines in Motion exhibit currently at the National Museum of the Air Force in Dayton contains exactly forty of Leo’s “machines”.

I took in the exhibit on Friday. It is set against the wall farthest from the entrance which means there is some walking involved. Not only does this provide an opportunity for a little exercise, but there are also plenty of opportunities for getting distracted on the way by the many other, mostly permanent, displays in this wonderful museum. I skipped my favorite gallery, Early Years, and focused on the da Vinci exhibit and still spent at least as much time getting to and from it as I did experiencing it. It’s simply impossible to ignore all those unusual planes and their engaging stories.

A fair number of the displayed machines have to do with flight. That is certainly appropriate for the Air Force Museum although the exhibit’s makeup was not tuned for the location. In fact, this appearance seems to be a recent addition that is not yet listed on the schedule at the Machines in Motion website.

The high ceiling at the museum allows some of da Vinci’s concepts to be suspended overhead as if in flight although they sometimes have to share space with flying things of more recent vintage. The overhead displays include the “parachute” in the opening photograph. The version here is not quite full size. A full-sized version and a description of a real-world use of the design were part of the Da Vinci the Genius exhibit I saw in Cincinnati in 2016.

Leonardo’s flying machines may not have been practical but many of his other ideas certainly were. I don’t believe it is a proven fact that he invented ball bearings but his design of a revolving stage using them might have been their first practical application. His designs for converting one form of motion to another (e.g., rotary to linear) were definitely practical. Check out the kid getting a real hands on education in the background of the second picture. The third picture shows a machine combining several devices to raise heavy pillars.

Seeing this machine for grinding concave mirrors was a real learning experience for me. The sign next to it talks about burning mirrors and mentions that one of their uses was welding. Believing that welding was at best an eighteenth-century concept, I had to look into that and discovered that the welding of soft metals like gold and copper goes back much further and was rather common in da Vinci’s day.

The exhibit runs through May 8 and, like the museum itself, is free.

On With the Snow/Show

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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.

Went to the Chapel

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I don’t know if we are entering an era of fine art circuses or if they are merely a passing fad. Apparently Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel: The Exhibition has been in circulation since 2015. My impression is that the various immersive Van Gogh shows (I recently saw this one.) date to 2020 or so but I’m not certain. Those dates make me think that the current popularity of the Sistine Chapel thing might be fallout from the popularity of the Van Gogh things but I am not, of course, certain of that either. What I am certain of is that I didn’t hear of either before late 2021 and the hoopla surrounding one made me receptive to the hoopla surrounding the other.

One characteristic the two exhibitions have in common is physical size. Lots of space is needed to either immerse people in wall-sized projections or surround them with ceiling-sized prints. The Sistine Chapel exhibition in Dayton occupies one floor of a former Elder-Beerman department store. Not knowing the location of the now unmarked store within the mall meant driving around until I spotted a sign-covered entrance.

It was a bit before the stated opening time and that entrance was locked. Several people moved on when they discovered this but I and a few others waited. Timed tickets came with instructions to arrive at least ten minutes ahead of the scheduled entrance, and the doors were unlocked with almost enough time to make good on that. Three women entered ahead of me. As we got our tickets scanned, a group approached from inside the building. I’m guessing these were people familiar with the mall and aware of another entrance to the store that may or may not have been open earlier but which clearly required a walk to the exhibition entrance. One of the ladies in front of me opted to watch a video before entering and the others paused at the gift shop. I entered the exhibit first and alone.

I have seen photos taken of Sistine Chapel exhibits in other cities where some of the prints are displayed overhead to simulate, I presume, the ceiling of the real chapel. Thankfully that wasn’t the case here as that would at least partially nullify the “up close” claim of exhibit promotions.

There’s no question that the most familiar image from the chapel frescoes is of God’s finger bestowing life to Adam. That detail is from The Creation of Adam which is placed very near the entrance. I’ve seen plenty of reproductions of this scene but I guess I have always focused on the hands or maybe the faces of God and Adam. Before today I’d never noticed the young lady on the right with wide-open eyes aimed directly at Adam.

I was completely unfamiliar with the majority of images displayed and that includes, perhaps surprisingly, The Creation of Eve. I don’t recall ever seeing a reproduction of this image before. I may have missed one here or there but it certainly hasn’t been given a whole lot of attention by the world at large. Michelangelo thought it was important enough to put it in the very center of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. There is a placard by each print that gives some information about the image and shows its position at the chapel. The one for The Creation of Eve is here. A clearer view of the ceiling, taken from a poster in a window at the entrance, is here.

The Creation of Adam and The Creation of Eve are visible from the main room but are set back a bit. I had actually viewed every picture in that entire room, with very little company, between viewing Adam and then Eve. Behind me, the steadily increasing crowd was doing the same.

Almost nothing in the main room was familiar to me. The same was true of the prints in the area beyond Eve — with one exception. This image of God with arms extended is one I’ve seen several times. In fact, it and the almost touching hands from The Creation of Adam were both used in promotional materials for this exhibit. However, I really knew nothing about it and my previous interpretation was completely wrong. I’d thought God looked pretty angry in the painting and assumed he was telling someone to get off his lawn or out of his garden. The Creation of the Sun, Moon, and Plants contains two images of God. His expression in the righthand image is not one of anger but an indication of the force being used. The lefthand image is of a true “dark side of the moon” moment with God turned away from the viewer as he creates Earth’s vegetation.

Once I’d passed by all the prints, I sat down to watch that video I’d skipped on the way in. It was not tied directly to the exhibit but was primarily comprised of PBS programming on Michelangelo. One of the things I learned from the video was that, in exchange for carving a crucifix for the Church of Santo Spirito, he was allowed to study corpses awaiting burial at the church. The Deluge and The Drunkenness of Noah are just two examples of how he made use of the knowledge of anatomy gained there.

A fair-sized line existed when I started watching the video but it was pretty much gone by the time it had cycled through. The video mentioned The Last Judgement and reminded me that I had seen it mentioned in exhibition ads but had not seen it at the exhibition itself. Michelangelo painted The Last Judgement at the Sistine Chapel altar twenty-five years after he had painted the ceiling. Thinking I might have somehow missed it, I stepped back inside to take another look. No luck, and I was eventually told that it was “lost at the airport”. The exhibition images are described as “life-sized” and a picture on the exhibition website makes it look like that includes The Last Judgement. As we’re often reminded, “Many Bags Look Alike” so maybe someone accidentally walked off with the wrong 40′ by 45′ suitcase.

I have seen comments online about the exhibit being unrefined and knocking the lighting in particular. Those comments are, in my opinion, accurate. The prints are not displayed and lighted as would be expected in a good art museum. There are actually some similarities, starting with the fact that it’s set up in an abandoned store, between the exhibit and those “starving artists” sales that used to pop up in furniture outlets and such. The process that accurately transferred the images from the curved ceiling to large flat panels is remarkable and the prints are quite impressive but, at the end of the day, they really are just printed versions of paintings.

There is certainly no possibility that the defunct Ohio department store will be mistaken for a five-century old Italian chapel. But there is a very real possibility that attendees will get a sense of the magnitude of Michelangelo’s accomplishment that just isn’t there when looking at normal-sized reproductions of the artwork. The images are big and there’s a lot of them. Yes, the exhibition is a circus and its staging leaves plenty to be desired but I came away with a pretty good appreciation for the six thousand square foot (plus 1800 sq. ft. Last Lost Judgement) masterpiece without crossing the Atlantic. And I got a much better look at the details than I could ever get craning my neck to peer at images nearly forty feet above my head.

Holly Days Under Glass

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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.  

That’s All, Brother

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Lt. Col. John M. Donalson named his C‑47 “That’s All, Brother” as something of a declaration that the Nazi’s success in Europe was just about over. Then he used it to lead more than 800 aircraft loaded with paratroopers across the English Channel to confront those Nazis on the night of June 5, 1944. When I heard that the plane was coming to the National Museum of the United States Air Force on Tuesday, I thought I might be interested in seeing it. When I woke up a couple of hours ahead of its estimated arrival time, I decided that I was interested in seeing it land.

A one-hour window had been announced for the landing and the plane appeared just about in the middle of that window. It made one pass over the runway without landing. Maybe that was so the pilot could scope things out or maybe it was so people on the ground could take pictures like the one at the top of this article. It then circled the museum and dropped onto the runway without a hiccup. Even with a chainlink fence in front of me, I was able to get a shot of the big airplane slipping safely between a water tower and a tractor-trailer.

The museum’s announcement said that the plane would be available for up-close viewing, inside and out, once it was on the ground and parked. Inside viewing would be limited to two at a time. I figured there would be a long and — with the two viewer limit — slow-moving line to get inside the plane so I anticipated not doing that. I did walk out to the plane, however, to get a closer look and better photos. Next to the plane, T-shirts and other merchandise were being sold from a van. It’s a Mercedes. Maybe no one other than me saw the irony in that, and even I am unsure whether using a German vehicle with D-D stripes to support a U.S. WWII military plane is a major insult or simply cynical.

The line was not as long as I feared and the two-person limit was not in place although there was an effort to maintain social distancing and a mask requirement was being strictly enforced. The C-47 is a military version of the DC-3 so it isn’t completely unfamiliar. Of course, passengers seating in the DC-3s I’ve seen looked considerably more comfortable than this. Information on this plane’s history and future can be found at “That’s All, Brother”.

There was a lull in the boarding right after I exited the plane, and I was able to get a shot of the door. One of the operations “That’s All, Brother” was involved in after D-Day was dropping supplies in relief of the siege of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge. With a touch of awe in his voice, the docent inside the plane pointed out that those supplies were thrown out this very door.

I could say that I took these pictures after checking out “That’s All, Brother”, but the truth is that there was a fair amount of time between the plane’s landing and it being available, and that’s when I went inside the museum. These pictures are, in fact, out of sequence. There are a few hundred aircraft displayed at the museum. Like “That’s All, Brother”, these are three with a WWII connection. The all-volunteer Flying Tigers, organized to fight in China before the U.S. entered the war used Curtiss P-40s. The C-47 in the middle picture was the last in routine USAF use. “Bockscar” is the name of the Boeing B-29 Superfortress that dropped an atomic bomb on Nagasaki on August 9, 1945. A mockup of that bomb, named “Fat Man”, is displayed beside it.

I’ve visited the museum several times and actually spent less time inside it today than on almost any other visit. But, for some unknown reason, I was really struck today by the amount of money, energy, and intelligence that has been devoted to creating machines whose sole purpose is the destruction of other machines — and people.

A friend called on Friday evening to tell me about a related event. “That’s All, Brother” was helping with a celebration honoring a local veteran. The celebration started Friday and would continue on Saturday. The fellow being honored was Jim “Pee Wee” Martin who parachuted into Normandy on D-Day and would be turning 100 on April 29. I decided I was interested in seeing that, too.

“That’s All, Brother” was joined by “Placid Lassie“, another C-47, and “D-Day Doll“, a C-53. All had participated in the D-Day invasion. As the three planes flew over Skydive Greene County, a couple dozen passengers exited. There were other jumpers, including the Army’s Golden Knights, and music, ceremonies, and fireworks were planned. Promised rain made an appearance about the time the Golden Knights finished their jump which prompted Terry, the friend who called Friday, and me to slip away while we were still mostly dry. 

These pictures are from Tuesday and are very out of sequence. When time permits, breakfast at the somewhat nearby (4 miles) Hasty Tasty is a nice prelude to an Air Force Museum visit. Hasty Tasty was a local chain that peaked at thirteen stores. This is the last and may also have been the first.

Tunnel of Trees

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A link to a story about a nearby tunnel of trees has appeared in my Facebook feed twice in the last month or so. The first time it came from the home of the article, “Only in Your State”. The second time it came from “Only in Cincinnati” despite the tunnel not being particularly close to the city. It is in Sugarcreek MetroPark, part of the Five Rivers MetroParks organization. The associated “metropolis” is Dayton, Ohio. The article, which is here, connects the tunnel with the town of Bellbrook and that’s one of the reasons it caught my eye. Bellbrook is home to one of my favorite breakfast spots but one that I don’t get to very often because of its thirty-mile distance. Friday’s near-perfect weather was all I needed to go tunnel hunting.

Despite my claim that I don’t get here very often, I have actually eaten at the Blue Berry Cafe twice during these pandemic times, and both times I’ve snagged that little table right by the door. Today I was a little too late and a couple who arrived just ahead of me were seated there. The photo with empty tables was taken after I’d eaten and was leaving. Larger groups were given wait estimates of half an hour but I was seated inside, where tables are well spaced and separated by hanging plexiglass panels, in a few minutes. I opted for my favorite bigger-than-my-head Nutty Professor (coconut & walnuts) pancake and left well fed.

This is the nearly full parking lot at Sugarcreek Metropark at 10:00 AM Friday. I asked someone who was getting ready to leave if some major event was in progress and was told, “No. This is just a really popular park.” Noticing my camera, she added, “But the trails aren’t crowded and there’s plenty of room for pictures.”

The opening picture shows one of many signs encouraging responsible COVID-19 relative behavior. The first photo at left was taken just beyond that sign. Trails are color-coded on maps and trailside markers. There are also maps with you-are-here indicators posted at intersections where going astray would be easy for someone like me. It’s the 1.3 mile long Orange Trail for me.

The first named feature along the trail is the Planted Prairie where deep-rooted prairie grasses have been reintroduced to what was once farmland. The empty wooden frame is another indication of pandemic triggered precautions. There are signs encouraging people not to touch various things and some touchable things, such as this swing overlooking the prairie, have been removed. The third picture is of a narrow trail crossing the prairie to connect the Orange Trail with the Green and Yellow Trails.

The Three Sisters is the name given to a trio of white oak trees that started growing here around 1440 CE. The giant trunk of one sister is in the foreground of the first picture with another sister standing in the background. The cluster of leaves about midway between the two is where the third sister lays after toppling in 2008. That’s her in the second picture. The third picture is of the sister farthest from the trail and there’s a better view of the one nearest the trail here. A descriptive sign is here.

Here’s the tunnel. Most tree tunnels or canopies are formed by branches from trees on both sides meeting overhead. This tunnel comes from a single row of Osage Orange trees planted as a hedge as described on a nearby sign. It certainly does look like something woodland fairies and other magical creatures might stroll through on their way to important gatherings. I’ve seen nothing on the tunnel’s length. My very uneducated guess is an eighth of a mile or so.

This picture was taken as the Orange Trail continues beyond the Osage Orange Tunnel and connects with its beginning near the Planted Prairie. There isn’t a lot of altitude change and the trail is far from strenuous but it is uneven with plenty of exposed roots and a few rocks. That doesn’t prevent those much younger and more energetic than I from jogging or even flat-out running along some of the paths. It sure is easy to see why that parking lot is so full.     

200 Breweries

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I like beer. I like beer well enough to be a Supreme Court justice although my other qualifications are rather weak. I’ve had favorites from time to time. I was pretty much a Stroh’s guy in the 1960s and ’70s, then became a big fan of Christian Moerlein Select when Hudepohl introduced it in 1981. But I’ll confess to never being entirely faithful to a single brand. My roving tastebuds would sometimes be led into temptation by an exotic label or a shapely bottle. Today, encouraged and aided by the craft beer explosion, I’m downright promiscuous. Several years ago I began using Utappd, a phone app that allows me to track the various beers I’ve tried, and I’ve accumulated a decent score. I have, since January of 2014, consumed a measurable amount of 1202 different beers.

Yes, that’s decent, but it pales next to some others. Just within my small circle of Untappd cohorts, Brian is over 1600, Sara is pushing 1900 (and now only logs on special occasions), and Nick is well past 3000. I’ll never catch them, of course, and I’m OK with that. If nothing else, when someone accuses me of being too fickle in my drinking, I can point to Nick or Sara or Brian and say, “But not like them!”

Besides, as the title of this post indicates, I have other things to brag about. I enjoy logging different venues about as much as I like logging beers and that goes double for breweries. In the beginning, I didn’t watch closely. I was almost halfway to the current count before it registered with me that logging breweries was something I was doing more than most. I completely missed the 100 brewery milestone but did note number 115 with a weak joke about Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream. I’ve been much more attentive as I approached completion of the second hundred and my thoughts have been on Zappa rather than Dylan. It’s not only giving me an opportunity to brag but an opportunity to recount some of the breweries I’ve seen.

For starters, here are numbers 1 and 200. My first check-in of Lock 27 Brewing was on January 31, 2014. It was not, of course, the first brewery I ever visited. I have vague memories of being inside the recently departed Hudepohl brewery several decades ago and I toured the oldest brewery in the US, Yuengling, back in 2005. A blog post from just about a year before I joined Untappd (Something’s Brewing in Cincy) describes visits to five breweries and mentions a couple more. And there were others. Lock 27 was simply the first brewery I visited after joining Untappd. My 200th brewery was the part-circus part-brewery Bircus. It’s in a converted movie theater just across the river in Kentucky and is more upfront about their tumbling and juggling than most breweries.

Dayton, Ohio, where Lock 27 Brewing is located, is also home to some truly unique producers of beer. Carillon Brewing Company (#24 12/8/14) is part of Carillon Historical Park and brews beer the old fashioned way. I mean the 160-year-old fashioned way. With the exception of piped-in water, the operation duplicates a brewery of the 1850s. I did a full blog post, History by the Pint, on my first visit. Pinups & Pints (#– 4/8/15) is a tiny 15-gallon operation that offers one choice of beer at a time. Unfortunately, Untappd had not yet identified it as a brewery when I was there so it is not one of my 200 (It would have been #30). Even so, how could I not include “The World’s Only Strip Club – Brew Pub” in this post? And Untappd does now recognize it as a brewery. The third picture is of Ohio’s first and the nation’s second co-op brewpub shortly before it opened. Fifth Street Brewpub (#3 2/12/14) is the only brewery I currently “own” a tiny piece of (it’s a co-op!) and the one with the most Untappd check-ins. Here‘s a picture from the most recent of those check-ins.

I used the word ‘currently’ in the preceding paragraph because I once owned a few shares of the ahead-of-its-time Oldenberg Brewery in Fort Mitchell, Kentucky. Somewhere I have a beautiful and totally worthless stock certificate for the brewery that closed in 2001.

Two other visited breweries deserve shout-outs because of their locations. Silver Gulch Brewing (#79 6/29/16) and Kona Brewing (#123 4/7/17) are, respectively, the USA’s northernmost and southernmost breweries. I claim a bonus point for reaching these outposts within a year of each other. I have yet to reach the westernmost (Kauai Island) or easternmost (Lubec) breweries in the US.

Maybe I’ll make it to three or four hundred or beyond. I’ve started the second 200 like I started the first, with Lock 27. In 2017, a second location, which Untappd counts as a separate brewery, was opened just outside the Dayton Dragons ball field. The Dragons are an affiliate of the Cincinnati Reds who are celebrating 150 years of professional baseball this year. A few months ago, Cincinnati.com published an article listing fifty-one breweries in the area including fifteen I’ve yet to visit. There is also an unvisited-by-me brewery in the ten listed by the Dayton CVB. The Ohio Craft Brewers Association reports that there are now more than 300 breweries operating in the state which means I could reach the next multiple of a hundred without crossing a state line — but I doubt I will.