Another Season of the Fish

I like fish and therefore like fish fries. During Lent, I try to patronize some of the Friday fundraisers although I rarely manage to check off every week. I doubt that was even possible during the COVID-19-ravaged years of 2020, ’21, and ’22. Even without a pandemic’s interference, going 7-for-7 isn’t always easy. I thought I’d accomplished it a couple of times but maybe not. 2014 is the only year that I’ve boasted about in this blog so maybe it’s the only perfect run I’ve ever accomplished — until now.

Lent, and the seven weeks of fish fries, ends with Easter. That 2014 boast was my Easter Day post for the year. I wasn’t completely confident of my ability to manage a fish fry every week this year and I had another Easter post ready just in case. When another 7-for-7 run began to look likely, I started thinking that I’d have to scrap that other post. Then I noticed that my calendar identified both an Easter Sunday and an Easter Monday. Easter Sunday got an Easter post and Easter Monday gets a fish post. 

The first week of Lent somehow caught me by surprise. I worked in a stop at nearby Saint Margaret of York on the way to something else. I’ve eaten here at least twice before. I do like to try new places but this is convenient and I like their baked salmon.

I did find a new-to-me place for the second week. At Saint Gertrude, I again had salmon but it wasn’t just any old salmon. This is “Roasted Lemon Dill Salmon”.

There is reason to think my choice for week three was a cheat but I think I can justify it. The Crow’s Nest is a commercial establishment and I did go there to see a musical performance (Ricky Nye) but the kitchen has been temporarily closed for renovation and food was not regularly available. A cooking tent has been set up in the courtyard for the duration of lent and fish is available for a few hours on Fridays. Only fish and only Fridays. Just like the churches.

Do you like Kolping? I don’t know. I’ve never Kolped. I found that silly joke, originally referencing author Rudyard Kipling, stuck in my head as I ate some really good baked fish at the Kolping Center on the fourth Friday of Lent.

During Lent’s fifth week, I went to Saint John the Evangelist in West Chester for baked tilapia. The meal, including drink, was only eleven dollars but the two-dollar pie pushed me to the teens.

There was no baked option at American Legion Post 484 so, for only the second time this year, I did not sully the name “fish fry” when I placed my order in week six.

Of course, the internet and online lists play an important role in all fish fry scheduling but it was extra important in locating a fry that I could work into a road trip without going too far off course. The event at American Legion Post 737 in Lake Milton, Ohio, met my Good Friday needs perfectly.


This may not be the last year with a “fish season” post but I expect it to be the last one with a set of stops like these. On the way home from one of the churches, I listened to a report on the boarding schools of nearly a century ago that were part of the effort to erase Native American culture. It told of physical, mental, and sexual abuse in which the United States government and the Catholic Church were involved. The report reminded me of a news article I’d read just the day before about a Cincinnati priest being sentenced on nine counts of rape going back decades. Arrest and prosecution had only recently occurred despite his “upsetting and alarming” behavior having long been noted. The specifics were new but the basics of the stories were not. When I started going to church-sponsored fish fries, I thought my patronage was harmless and was possibly even doing some good. Reflecting on these stories and the many others they reminded me of caused me to think otherwise. I may continue to frequent springtime fish fries but in the future they will be at fire stations, VFW and American Legion halls, and Irish pubs with closed kitchens and a grill setting outside the back door. So long churches, and thanks for all the fish.

Found on Easter Island

An entire lake dried up and all we got was this lousy moai. This previously unknown carving with “recognisable features but no clear definition” was found in a dry Easter Island lake bed on February 21. Regular readers may recall that Easter Island (a.k.a., Rapa Nui) is kind of special to me because it was on my -225th birthday that Europeans gave it the name Easter Island. By coincidence, that day in 1722 when Jacob Roggeveen and crew first bumped into the island was Easter Sunday. I first wrote about all that in 2016.

Moai are those large stone heads that Easter Island/Rapa Nui is known for. The lake where this unfinished moai turned up is inside the crater of the extinct Rano Raraku volcano. It used to look like this. The quarry where the stone came from for most of the moai is nearby. The lake started shrinking in 2018 and is just one sign of the impact that global warming is having on the island. There’s a broader view here.

On top of global warming, the island suffered an arsonist set fire in October. There is naturally some temptation to consider finding the statue in the lakebed a bright spot in the midst of all the bad stuff going on. I guess it is in a way, but it’s kind of like finding that quarter you lost last year in the wreckage of your house after a hurricane came through.

Many will find real joy in munching on this year’s new Dr. Pepper-flavored Peeps and maybe even washing them down with their namesake beverage. It’s definitely a sweet image. But that won’t be happening for Easter Islanders. The DP Peeps are a Walmart exclusive and Walmart has yet to reach the island. Hmmm. Perhaps that, and not the moai discovery, is actually the bright spot in this story.

Spirit of 76

For the second consecutive year, I’ve created a post specifically for my birthday. I didn’t expect to. I did it last year to note a milestone in age and a change in appearance. I’m doing it this year primarily to record some thoughts. I ended last year’s post with the observation that “birthdays are good occasions for remembering all the folks I’ve known who have been denied the privilege of growing older”. I intentionally used “older” rather than “old” without knowing the significance that the difference would hold this year. During the year since my last birthday, a very close friend of mine stopped growing older. John was born a few years before me so the privilege of growing old was something we shared. Sure, lots of people live to be much older but lots more don’t.

The day before John turned seventy-six, he commented about having that number of trombonists serenade him for his birthday. On the day. I shared a Youtube clip of The Music Man‘s signature song.

I recalled that as my own seventy-sixth birthday approached but thought of a couple of other things associated with the number 76. One was (Union) 76 gasoline and another was The Spirit of ’76 painting shown at left. Probably because I would like to think I have some spirit left at age 76, I felt more of a connection with the painting than with the gasoline, and I felt more of a connection with the painting’s title than with its appearance.

Archibald Willard, who painted The Spirit of ’76, was an Ohioan. Some of his more notable work is in the somewhat nearby Fayette County courthouse. Apparently, Willard also liked the word “spirit”. The three largest of his 1882 murals are The Spirit of the U. S. Mail, The Spirit of Electricity, and The Spirit of the Telegraph. While those were no doubt high-tech futuristic subjects in 1882, today all three would probably be combined in something like The Spirit of the Internet, and Willard would have to come up with a couple additional ideas to fill all three walls.

The image with the old phrase on an updated background at the top of this post should now make sense but in case it doesn’t, I’ll explain. A few days ahead of my 76th birthday, I sat on a bench in Washington Court House, Ohio, gazing at the Fayette County courthouse in which there are three “Spirit” murals painted by the man who created a painting in 1875 that he called Yankee Doodle but which was soon renamed The Spirit of ’76. Happy Birthday to me.

A more readable version of the sign in that last picture is here.

A Normal Opening Day

Cincinnati Reds opening day parades were canceled in 2020 and 2021 because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Last year’s parade was delayed along with the start of the season by an owner-player dispute but it did happen. Opening Day 2019 was normal in most respects but I missed the parade due to my own bad planning. I made the parade in 2018 although it was delayed by legitimate business concerns having nothing to do with owners, players, viruses, or weather. In 2017 I was out of town for what I understand was a very nice and quite normal parade. That means that the parade of 2016 was the last one I attended that happened as it was supposed to. I’m sure glad that streak is over.

I decided to get serious this year and reached Arnold’s about twenty minutes ahead of the planned 9:00 opening. Obviously, quite a few folks were even more serious but I was still in time to get a seat in the courtyard and get a breakfast sandwich and Shamrock Shake. I was there when Todd Hepburn arrived looking quite dapper and I stayed long enough to sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” with him.

The day would eventually get warm but walking to the parade’s start point at Findlay Market was fairly chilly. Near the market, I encountered all four of the Reds’ mascots exiting their limo and heading to the staging area. That’s Rosie Red on the left, Mr. Red on the right, Gapper in the middle, and Mr. Redlegs still in the limo.

My walk and some strolling through the staging area consumed a fair amount of time but the parade start was still several minutes away when I took up a position near the parked Cincinnati Police motorcycles that would lead the parade. Those minutes passed quickly and shortly past noon, the parade was set in motion.

With the passing of the pipes and drums, the organizers’ float, and the iconic Jim Tarbell dressed as the also iconic Peanut Jim, there’s no doubt that we’ve got a real parade going on.

The four mascots spread throughout the parade with Gapper getting the position of leading the parade’s two grand marshalls. Pitchers Danny Graves and Bronson Arroyo are both being inducted into the Reds Hall of Fame this year and are sharing Grand Marshall duties. During the time I was waiting by the motorcycles, the pair had arrived nearby in a van. Danny never turned toward me at the time but I did get a decent shot of Bronson which I’m sharing here.

This group, looking like players and fans from the earliest days of baseball, represents the Reds Hall of Fame and Museum. Mr. Redlegs is close behind.

A few entries later, Rosie Red leads what could be called the parade’s glamour section. Kentucky’s Heather French Henry, Miss America 2000, is as lovely and enthusiastic as ever.

Indicative of Cincinnati and the Reds’ place in a tri-state area, the reigning beauty queens of Ohio (Elizabetta Nies), Kentucky (Hannah Edelen), and Indiana (Elizabeth Hallal) also accompanied Rosie. Maybe it’s a generational thing or maybe it’s because this was early in the parade route but I’d like to think that Heather French’s enthusiasm had something to do with all three title holders forgoing the standard “regal wave” and actually interacting with the crowd.

The Wilburforce University Marching Band got some pre-parade press so I was sort of on the lookout for them when I saw them heading to the staging area and snapped a less-than-great picture. This is the first marching band WU has ever had and it attracted enough attention during its first year of existence to be invited to march in multiple Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans. It’s a really good band and that’s a wonderful accomplishment.

Mr. Red, the fourth and final Reds mascot, was riding with the Friends of Findlay Market. I have no identification for the other two photos except I do know that one is the parade’s most athletic and the other the parade’s cutest.

I have two reasons for including the Lebanon High School Marching Band in this post. One is the eye-catching cool uniforms and the other is that the band was playing “Fins” as they passed. I’m guessing that’s because it’s the only Jimmy Buffett song that calls out Cincinnati and covering Buffett is all the reason anyone needs for joining a band.

In addition to Ferraris and Gina Lollobrigida, Italy has given us Vespas, Reds fans, and Americans.

When I took this picture, the Reds were 0-0. In a few hours, they would be 0-1 but they are now 1-1 just like every other team in the NL Central Division. Mathematically they have the same shot as everyone else but retired Reds announcer Marty Brennaman proclaimed during the parade, “Anybody that thinks they are [going to win the division] are delusional.” Realistically, we could see a repeat of last year’s dismal 62-100 season. Of course, there’s nothing like a parade on a sunny day to make you forget the worst of the past and remember the best, and a smiling George Foster — Big Red Machine outfielder and 1977 NL MVP — is a great reminder of some of that best.

The King Records float was another reminder of the best of Cincinnati history. I got so caught up in watching Tony Wilson that I almost missed Bootsy Collins. Wilson, given the name Young James Brown by the real James Brown, was singing and dancing in the street while Bootsy was keeping a pretty low profile — for someone wearing a sparkling blue top hat — on the float.

I know I’ve seen members of the Cincinnati Circus Company in other parades but I don’t recall seeing a group behind a banner before. Of course, that probably has more to do with my recall than reality.

Following the parade, I overheard several comments from people who were really impressed by the Indianapolis motorcycle officer riding his ‘cycle while standing up. I witnessed that bit of derring-do but got no photos. The last parade picture is of one of my all-time favorites, the Lawnmower Precision Drill Team from Wapakoneta.

I apologize for what might be a personal record for the number of photos in a blog post but I assure you it could have been worse. Maybe it was ending the seven-year streak of missed or somehow off-kilter parades that caused me to take so many pictures. Limiting this post to what I hope is only slightly too many was not an easy task.

When the last of the parade passed me, I was near Washington Park and headed immediately to Cobblestone OTR across the street. I believe I could have bought a beer almost instantly but decided I ought to dispose of the one I had for breakfast first. The line at the restroom extended through much of the bar and that convinced me to just move on. The crowd at Knockback Nat’s was out the door and, although I could step inside Madonna’s, that place was definitely full also. I found the same thing at Arnold’s but my car was nearby and I brought the day’s hike to an end right there. I finally got that beer at City View Tavern where barely a half dozen customers preceded me and I was able to grab a seat at deck’s edge. That situation did not last long and the couple at the table behind me instantly moved forward when I left.  

Short, Sweet, Wet, and Irish

It took place on March 17 so obviously it’s Irish. It’s wet because of the heavy rain that fell before it started and the light rain that fell later. It’s sweet because that’s what most short things are said to be and it’s short because that’s what Hamiltonians wanted. The title quite accurately describes the first-ever Hamilton Ohio Saint Patrick’s Day Parade which those Hamiltonians labeled Ohio’s Shortest. I think the parade route was about 575 feet long but the margin of error isn’t much less than the distance separating the piper leading the parade and the fire engine at its tail. I’ve since learned that the piper is Thomas Eickelberger and that the fellows next in line are Jim Goodman, from Municipal Brew Works, and Michael Ryan, Hamilton’s Vice Mayor. Hamilton’s Mayor, Pat Moeller didn’t actually march in the parade but I did get a shot of him chatting with Eickelberger during the staging.

Municipal Brew Works was listed as the parade’s starting point with the route ending around the corner and up a block at Tano Bistro. I got a full frontal of that bicycle leaning against the brewery before the big kickoff.

Here is the parade after turning the corner. The official end point is behind me but not everyone made it that far. Many departed the route when they reached The Casual Pint or The Pour House. Tano and Chick’nCone got a few of the marchers and would get more later but most initially headed to the adult beverage dispensaries including MBW back at the start point.

The city of Hamilton is no stranger to celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day or to promoting shortness. The parade was followed by the second annual O’DORA Dash. DORA stands for Designated Outdoor Refreshment Area where adults can carry alcoholic beverages and, as everyone knows, adding an ‘O’ will make anything Irish. Despite the word “dash” in its name, speed in covering the 0.1K course doesn’t seem particularly important. In fact, I saw no evidence of any time or speed-measuring devices anywhere near the event.

Much of the chatter about the event concerns not spilling your beer and I saw several participants meet that requirement by chugging their beverage at the beginning. But the official goal was to get as much liquid (either green beer or local Pahhni Water) as possible to the other end. True competitors were not deterred in the least by winds taking down the finish line marker. The Hamilton Community Foundation will benefit from the fundraiser regardless of who won or how much rainwater was in their cup.

I was already planning on attending the parade when I found out that someone I know would be playing at North Second Tap and Bottle Shop. When I got there, the new-to-me Bedel and Hibbard were on stage. Elijah Bedel and Sam Hibbard perform mostly American folk music on a variety of instruments. That’s a gourd banjo on the right side of the first picture and the banjo and fiddle on the picture’s left side are part of the mix too. Today’s song list was naturally slanted toward Ireland. Not only were they doing an afternoon set, but they would also be returning later to close out the night.

Although I’ve seen Rob McAllister do sets that would qualify as American folk music, that would not be happening today. Today it would be Dead Man String Band at full throttle. Usually checking out a guitarist’s pedal board will reveal an array of effects boxes with buttons. The Dead Man’s has real pedals and he uses them all. And somehow, replacing the tom rack on a bass drum with a microphone just seems to fit.

With the exception of the cold, I enjoyed everything about my day in Hamilton. I especially appreciated the sheer fun of the parade which kind of reminded me of the Cincinnati parade before all the sanctimonious family values posturing took over. The O’DORA Dash was fun to watch and I enjoyed a few malt beverages although none were green. And I appreciated hearing music in a place where others appreciated it too. Can there be any doubt that a place is cool when there is a wizard on the soundboard and a leprechaun on the bar?

Railroad Stations Stamps Dedication

Thursday was a very special day for serious rail fans who live near Cincinnati and collect stamps. It was actually a pretty special day for casual rail fans who live near Cincinnati and don’t collect stamps. I know that because I’m in that second group. Thursday, March 9, was the first day of issue for a set of commemorative postage stamps featuring five historic train stations. Not only is Cincinnati’s Union Terminal one of those stations, but it was also the site of the dedication ceremony introducing the stamps.

Images of the stamps have been available for some time so the official unveiling would not be all that dramatic. Even so, I was surprised to see that the stamps and associated items were on sale ahead of the 11:00 AM dedication. That sign in front of the terminal can be read here.

I bought two sheets and a set of first day covers. I may save one sheet but one is definitely to use. I got the set of covers largely because I didn’t know what I was doing. I really just wanted a first day cover with the Cincinnati stamp but ended up with all five. The other stations are in Tamaqua, PA; Point of Rocks, MD; Richmond, VA; and San Bernardino, CA. Read about the stamps and the stations here. As it turned out, I would not have had to buy any as the program for the dedication was in a first day cover with the Cincinnati stamp. A cool pin was also included.

Seeing that John Lomax was the emcee was a wonderful surprise. John recently retired from WKRC-TV where he was one of my favorite news anchors. After the ceremony concluded, most of the participants stayed for autographs. I initially headed elsewhere but when the line got quite short decided to get that envelope in the previous panel signed. When I reached John, I told him that we had spent a few Reds opening days and a couple of car shows together — even though he didn’t know it.

A color guard from the Loveland American Legion and VFW posts presented the colors and DeMarco Reed from the School for Creative and Performing Arts did an impressive job singing the national anthem. We were all welcomed by Cincinnati Museum Center CEO Elizabeth Pierce and Hamilton County Commission President Alicia Reece. Pierce remarked on what a nice coincidence it was to have a commemorative stamp issued during the terminal’s 90th year. The Cincinnati Museum Center is housed in the terminal.

Daniel Tangherlini from the USPS Board of Governors presided over the actual “unveiling”. Tangherlini deviated from his prepared speech to note that this train-related event was taking place in a state where two significant train incidents (derailments near East Palestine and Springfield) had recently occurred. He called these reminders of the need to keep safety front and center in USPS operations.

Following the dedication, Janice Forte and Nicholas Cates shared personal memories of Union Terminal. Forte is a historian and docent at the building. Some of her memories involved interactions with visitors who had their own memories. Cates grew up in the area and told of his inspiring first visit while in high school and the incredible good fortune that brought him back to the city and the role of lead architect on the terminal’s recent restoration.

When all the formalities were over, I made a visit to the Amtrak passenger area next to the auditorium then joined the autograph line as I mentioned before. Back in the rotunda, the previously covered image of the Cincinnati stamp had been revealed and sales had slowed a bit but were still going strong.

Before leaving, I grabbed pictures of some of the murals in the rotunda, that iconic domed ceiling, and the model of the terminal that is part of the “Cincinnati in Motion” exhibit in the history museum.


When passenger service moved from Union Terminal in 1972, my sister-in-law and I headed there to take some pictures. We were turned away but as we walked back toward our car we saw a man with a box of toy trains being admitted. We then learned that a hobby shop temporarily remained in business inside the building and customers were permitted access. We declared ourselves customers and were allowed through the door to walk directly to and from the shop. Once there, we realized that the shop dealt in expensive (to our budgets) model train gear. Being more or less obligated to buy something, we did find one thing we could afford and each bought an envelope that had been carried and canceled on the last train to leave the terminal. That “last day” envelope, for which I paid $2 plus 9¢ tax, is pictured with the “first day” envelope, for which I paid $1.18 (set of 5 for $5.90) and no tax. A clear example of the advantage of going straight to the source and buying in bulk.

Our walk from the store was not quite as direct as our walk to it had been as we feverishly snapped pictures of anything that looked interesting. Neither was it as direct as at least one observer would have liked. We had stopped shooting and were probably halfway across the big open space when a man emerged from somewhere and shouted something with the word “pictures” in it. We mumbled something back and kept walking. He was in pursuit as we reached the door and exited but apparently decided that we weren’t worth going outside for. It is the only time I’ve ever thought it quite possible that someone might grab my camera and pull the film from it.

I know not where those pictures are. My photography was a very low-budget affair in those days. It’s likely that they were shot on black & white film that I bought in bulk and spooled and developed myself. It is also likely that few if any were ever printed. Those negatives may eventually turn up somewhere or they may be truly lost to the world. Thankfully that wonderful building has not been even though it came very close.

Support Your Local Cryptid

I can’t really claim to be a big supporter of cryptids of any sort but I can claim to support my local cryptids more than any of the others. I have taken a few pictures of Bigfoot signs and statues but I’ve never gone out of my way to do it, and I’ve never for a moment thought of going to Scotland solely to look for that critter reported to live in Loch Ness. I have, however, visited Point Pleasant, West Virginia, a couple of times primarily to admire the Mothman statue, and when I heard about the first-ever Frogman Festival, I figured attending it would just be proper. You can’t get much more local than a cryptid sighting a mile and a half from where I once lived and less than three miles from where I live now.

Some background, I suspect, might be in order. I’ll start with a definition. I now know what a cryptid is but I didn’t a few years ago and the word is not one I use daily. From Wikipedia: “Cryptids are animals that cryptozoologists believe may exist somewhere in the wild, but are not recognized by science. Cryptozoology is a pseudoscience, which primarily looks at anecdotal stories, and other claims rejected by the scientific community.” Mothman, which has been sighted about 120 miles from my home, is a cryptid and I believe the pictured inflatable is a representation. Here is a picture of a more solid, but not necessarily more accurate, rendition that’s in his hometown.

The Loveland Frog or Frogman is a cryptid that some cryptozoologists believe lives, or at least lived, in or near the Little Miami River around Loveland, Ohio. There are numerous descriptions floating around and even some reports of more recent sightings but essentially all descriptions mention sightings in 1955 and 1972. The creature is sometimes described as having webbed hands and sometimes as having human-like hands. Sometimes it’s very frog-like and sometimes it is basically a human with the face of a frog. Sometimes it’s about three feet tall but sometimes it’s closer to six feet. There are many other variations too. Legends and cryptids are often like that.

Vendors were a major part of the festival. It was announced at the start of the presentations that there were fifty-two vendors present representing twelve states. They filled the majority of the space offering clothing, books, games, a variety of craft items, and some really serious masks. Some very impressive works of art could also be found.

Here is an aspect of the festival that was a complete surprise to me. A company named MetaZoo was identified as the festival’s official sponsor. The name meant nothing to me but I soon learned that it is a gaming company and that a big tournament was part of the festival. I said that vendors had the majority of space but that’s because vendors were set up in the hallways. Space inside the main room was about evenly split between vendors and gamers. I don’t know much about the game itself but it looks like wizard hats, swimming goggles, and other paraphernalia could be important. I did learn from one of the people supervising the tournament that the play was one-on-one with winners advancing. The final rounds will be held at the tables with overhead cameras sending the action to the large screens. At the moment, all tables were being used so that random preliminary games were taking place at those tables.

I took in some but not all of the festival’s eight hours of presentations. The first picture is of one of the event’s organizers, Jeff Craig, introducing the first speaker. Dee Elliott talked about the effect of “hauntings” on three small West Virginia towns. Ashley Hilt’s presentation was entitled “Mothman” but it ended up touching on other sightings as well. I realize it looks like Mickey Mouse ears on the pair of audience members but they are actually frog eyes. Quite a few attendees were wearing frog eyes or something similar.

James Willis’ “Frogman of Loveland, Ohio” presentation was the main thing I wanted to see and I was certainly not alone. This was a standing-room-only presentation that was worth the price of addition. Willis dug into original police and newspaper reports to construct a rather thorough history of the legend. It’s the first time I’ve heard a version of this saga that makes sense.

The City of Loveland seems to have embraced its local cryptid. The picture at left was taken during the recent Hearts Afire weekend which I reported on here. That’s the city mascot greeting a young visitor on the bike trail.

I suppose it’s too early to know if this will become an annual event or was a one-time thing. It was clearly well-attended which I assume means it was a success. I had fun and learned more than I expected and will be on the lookout for a big festival or a big frog.

 

Hearts and Blues Afire

I originally planned to do what I did for last year’s Inaugural Hearts Afire Weekend, and just attend the 2023 Hearts Afire Weekend on Saturday. By showing up mid-afternoon in 2022, I had been able to see some of the ice carvings in both darkness and daylight. Then I realized that Saturday was the day of the Cincinnati Winter Blues Experience and it wasn’t long until friends convinced me I should be there. So, without actually reading the schedule, I headed to Loveland Friday evening thinking I’d get to see at least some of those ice sculptures. Nope. There were plenty of festivities happening but no ice carvings. I told myself they were probably delayed because of the warmish temperatures but eventually learned that the plan had always been to have all the frozen art appear on Saturday.

So I headed over to Cappy’s where the Charity Date Auction was in full swing — inside. Outside, only a couple of teddy bears were hanging out with the roaring fire and the giant Chair-ity Date Auction chair. Inside the big tent, local TV and radio personality Ken Broo was MCing the auction. When a representative of auction beneficiary Women’s Health Initiatives Foundation came forward to talk about the foundation, she ended up getting auctioned off as part of the Saturday night group date.

Although I did pop into a couple more local businesses, I basically made it an early night with intentions of coming back on Saturday to check out those ice sculptures. As I headed home, I snapped a shot of this Loveland home decorated very appropriately for the location and the holiday.

I made it back on Saturday to see the ice carvings. I’m sharing photos of a few starting with these on or near the bike trail. I generally avoid posting pictures of children and really make an effort to avoid posting children’s faces even when I’m sure they are very happy ones.

Here are half of the six sculptures that Cappy’s, where last night’s auction was held, has this year. Some of them are sponsored by suppliers.

I did not have time to hang around for the ice carving demonstrations but I did get to watch one being started while a couple of future carvers looked on. I also spotted some blocks of ice being prepared for carving.


Remember that event that kept me from the ice sculptures tonight? There were eleven bands performing at the Cincinnati Winter Blues Experience and that included seven that I’d not seen before. I caught just the last few notes of The Mojo Blues Cats and got no picture. Here are the other six.

To be honest, I think I may have seen The Tempted Souls Band before but if so I don’t believe it was this lineup. Tullie Brae’s piano was initially missing in the mix but things were soon sorted and sounding good. Ivy Ford led her trio with good vocals and very good guitar work.

Gabe Stillman fronted his own trio as did King Soloman Hicks. Hicks might have been best of show. GA-20 is an unusual two-guitar trio. The band’s guitarists took turns playing bass lines on their fat strings while the other took the lead.

The Blues Experience was a one-night affair but Hearts Afire continues through today, Sunday, February 12.

Stand Up History Live

Historian Greg Hand and mixologist Molly Wellman dreamed up Stand-Up History a few years back but, due to a combination of ignorance and conflicts, it took me until January 2023 to actually make it to a performance. I liked the concept the instant that I heard of it, and the reality did not disappoint in the slightest. That January event was at the Muse Cafe on Harrison Avenue. The subject of this post, my second Stand-Up History experience, took place at the Mercantile Library in Cincinnati’s downtown. Not only would Molly be one of the evening’s presenters, she had made and was serving a big bowl of her Ginger Punch.

Stand-Up History is a wonderful learn-while-you-laugh program. As you no doubt guessed, the name came from “stand-up comedy”. In fact, searching for “stand-up history” will result in a bunch of links to the history of stand-up comedy pushing hits for this operation well down the list. The name isn’t all that’s borrowed, of course. A program consists of individuals standing up and talking. The subjects are all historical and the presenters are all experts but the presentations have a decidedly humorous focus and the subjects are chosen to assist in generating smiles, grins, chuckles, and guffaws. 

First up tonight was astronomer Dean Regas. Regas was also a presenter at that January show I attended. I’ve heard him on radio many times but that was my first time seeing him in person. Tonight’s topic was “How to Teach Grown-Ups About Pluto” which happens to be the name of Regas’ latest book.  It was a good use of his wonderful wit and his knowledge of both science and history.

Author and blogger Dann Woellert was up next with “Our Badass Sister of Charity and the Creation of Cincinnati Pizza Pie”. Sister Blandina Segale’s long life included serving her church in Colorado and New Mexico, dealings with a lynch mob and Billy the Kid, and establishing institutions such as Saint Rita’s School for the Deaf and San Antonio Parish in Cincinnati. One of the first places in America where pizza was served was at San Antonio festivals. It’s pretty amazing where the history of food will lead you if you let it.

As Cincinnati’s favorite mixologist, Molly Wellmann is an expert on the history of Cincinnati’s adult beverages and the places that served them. She sort of ventured out of her comfort zone tonight by telling the story of “How Hyde Park Became a Village Without Having a Tavern”. It was long ago annexed by the city of Cincinnati and now has taverns aplenty.

Greg Hand, of Cincinnati Curiosities, finished things up by poking holes in “Myths Cincinnatians Dearly Want to Believe”. There were myths about hills, chili, ketchup, and more. The final myth addressed was that Mark Twain quote about Cincinnati and the end of the world. “When the end of the world comes, I want to be in Cincinnati. It is always ten years behind the times,” has often been attributed to Twain but, as Hand pointed out, there is absolutely no evidence that he actually said it. I’ve always thought the quote presented Cincinnatians with a dilemma. On one hand, it’s kind of nice to have someone as famous as Twain notice your city but, on the other, very few people really want to live in a place that is ten (or, in some versions, twenty) years out of date. I don’t believe that Hand mentioned it but I’ve turned up a claim that the first reference to the quote in print was in 1978. A similar quote about the end of the world and Bavaria being fifty years behind appeared in print in 1886 and probably existed earlier. By 1978, Twain had been dead for 68 years and the Bavarian comment was 94 years old. That makes being one or two decades “behind the times” appear not so bad.

So here’s the whole crew including MC Mike Perrino in the middle of all the presenters. Having been founded in 1835, the Mercantile Library has lots of history. Perrino reminded us of that by noting that this was the 165th anniversary of an appearance by Herman Melville that local papers reported as “Earnest, though not sufficiently animated.” Tonight’s presenters seemed to be well aware of the importance of being animated. Some of them will be doing this somewhere on the third Thursday of every month for the foreseeable future. Next month, Molly, Greg, and Mike will be joined by Ann Senefeld at Muse Cafe. Details here.

Happy Imbolc Again

I’ve made it known that I use canned posts when my world is “too busy or too boring for a current events piece”. Although my life was neither this week, the things that kept it from being boring were not the sort of things that make interesting reading. I was on the verge of scheduling a Trip Peek when I decided to instead reuse this article from 2016.

gknob2010Groundhog Day has long been one of my favorite holidays. In fact, attending America’s biggest Groundhog Day event in Punxsutawney, PA, was among the first things I did with the newly available time that retirement brought. The photo at right was taken at 4:58 AM, February 2, 2010. Sunrise was more than two hours away and the temperature was four degrees Fahrenheit. I had a good time and I’m glad I went but the experience did not lead to plans for an annual return. Standing outside in pre-dawn single-digit temperatures is something I prefer to discuss in past tense only.

I credited my original fondness for Groundhog Day to a belief that it had no religious connections and was basically folklore that had been adopted by some Pennsylvanians largely to promote silliness. While both of those claims are sort of true, there is more to it. I started to doubt the “no religious connections” when I discovered that America’s Groundhog Day shares its February 2 date with Christianity’s Candlemas. But sharing a date does not a connection make and there are no direct ties apparent between Groundhog Day and any of the three events (presentation of the child Jesus, Jesus’ entry into the temple, and Mary’s purification) Christians attribute to the day.

February 1 is also a day recognized by Christians. It is the day that Saint Brigid of Ireland is reported to have died and is celebrated as her feast day. Before Saint Brigid was born (in 451 they say) a Gaelic festival was celebrated about this time to honor a goddess also named, perhaps by coincidence though probably not, Brigid. I have to say “about this time” because man-made calendars had not yet taken over and feast days were not yet tied to specific numbers on pages. Brigid’s was associated with a point halfway between Winter Solstice and Vernal Equinox called Imbolc which happens near the beginning of what we call February. In 2016 it occurs at 4:30 EST February 4. (See 2023 comments at end of article.)

Without donut shops and corner diners, it isn’t clear where ancient Irish farmers gathered to talk about the weather but it’s a safe bet that they did. Around Imbolc, the coming spring would have been a big topic. Farmers without donut shops and cable television are quite observant of their environment and they no doubt noticed that bright clear days in the middle of winter were usually a little colder than cloudy ones. With Imbolc being the most “middle of winter” you can get, giving some special significance to the weather on that day was likely fairly natural. That’s about as close to science that the groundhog and shadow story gets.

I’m guessing that making a determination at sunrise was also fairly natural. Even if those early farmers were capable of determining Imbolc’s exact moment — and I’m not saying they weren’t — in those years when it did not occur during the daytime they weren’t about to get up in the middle of the night to see if the sun was shining. The crack of dawn probably seemed about right.

So there really are no direct connections between Groundhog Day and religion and there is plenty of silliness in its fairly recent (1887) use to bring fame to a small Pennsylvania town but its timing is firmly linked to the workings of the solar system and there is a tiny bit of logic in it being a day to make weather predictions. If nothing else, the days around Imbolc are most likely the coldest of the year meaning there’s a good chance that it’s all up-thermometer from here.

My 2010 Punxsutawney visit is here. I will, as usual, celebrate Groundhog Day on Tuesday by consuming pork sausage at some point. I have no plans to be awake at 4:30 Thursday to observe Imbolc.

I don’t know where I got the time and date for Imbolc 2016 but I know I did not calculate either. This year, my first searches turned up the date February 1 but no time was given. I decided to calculate it myself and came up with 11:48 GMT February 3. Of course, I initially doubted my math but quickly found reassurance at the Farmer’s Almanac that February 3 indeed is the midpoint of winter and eventually found support for that being the date of “Imbolc exact” in the Witches Astrological Calendar at Patheos. I cannot say for certain why so many sites give February 1 as the date but am guessing that some have decided that Imbolc is just another name for Saint Brigid’s Day. Regardless, I now have some confidence in my calculations being reasonably close and there is even a possibility that I’ll be awake when Imbolc 2023 rolls around (at 6:48 EST) with the previous day’s serving of pork sausage completely digested and sunrise not quite an hour away.