Nothing Happens on the West Side

 I've been posting more on Dreamwidth and have more or less abandoned this blog. Posted this one a couple of days ago. 

I live in an area of the city that is vastly underserved. We're surrounded by poorer neighborhoods, there are very few businesses to walk to. The major streets that border the area have zoning issues that do not allow ease for some businesses to just come in and start. The city has not been kind to this part of town. Neglect is policy. Murals are fine. I'd prefer to see thriving businesses in the empty structures instead of murals on the sides of them. 

In my twenty years here I can count on less that one hand, and probably closer to one, the number of sit down restaurants that have opened up. There is a dearth of food trucks, which is fine but they lack permanence. You can't sit down and eat outside of a food truck when its raining. There's nowhere to walk to if you want a burger and a beer. You have to leave your neighborhood to shop for everything. The nearest Kroger grocery stores contain parking lots full of drama, stores with understocked shelves and poor quality products. For years they've talked of improvements, calls for change. These last for a month or so before reverting to the same sad issues. Yes baby I promise I'll change.

There have been so many fits and starts in the twenty years that I have lived in this area. But if I had photographs of Broad Street or Sullivant Avenue then and now, I suspect there would be very little difference. Now compare that to High Street, or Town Street in Franklinton, or Parsons Avenue, or Oak Street.

In May of 2021 a sign went up in front of a building close to my house saying that a chicken joint was coming soon. Activity has been in fits and starts, but there's still no indication the place will ever open. I get that there are supply chain issues that are slowing things down, and the city has its permits that have to be approved. Money has to change hands and businesses seem to open quicker in better parts of the city.

I've been told to, "be patient" in online forums. I've lived here twenty years, I've been patient and so little has happened. I'm grateful for Third Way Coffee and all the efforts they are making to spin some business in the area. Sure, I can put my money where my mouth is, but anything I would start up would end up being the Fawlty Towers of retail. It's not in me anymore.

So I drive by the chicken place, say where's the chicken, go over the train tracks and recently boarded up apartment building to spend my money outside of my neighborhood. Every day.

Another minute of the 15

For years the Columbus Dispatch has run an weekly article called "Where I Eat" in which locals are asked where they go out to eat in the city.

I've been here for 30 years now, and it became my turn.

You can see Where I Eat here.

The reporter put a survey on twitter, a couple of people said I should fill it out. I did, and there's the story.

I'm not sure if it is still put in the print edition.

Tired of falling through the cracks

During a diner conversation on Friday morning, the man I was talking with brought up that people do not get back to you when you contact them. I cannot explain why but right now I have three inquiries in the hopper right now, and all of them are dragging out for reasons that are inexplicable to me. One is personal and I explicitly said I need a quick response, and there has been no reply. Another is service oriented. The guy texted me out of the blue, said he was my liaison with the company I have given money to for a service. I texted him, asking when my parts would arrive so the service could be completed, and I have had no response.

The third is local. I reached out over six months ago to a person regarding work for an art project. He seemed very eager at first, but nothing came of it. A few months later I asked him if the project was dead. He replied quickly saying no, no that he forgot about me because he was so busy. Last week he posted pictures of some work he completed for others for the holidays. Wow, none of that work was mine even though I had a verbal agreement months ago for a piece. I sent him a message asking again if the project was dead, there has been no response. At least no money changed hands in this instance.

It’s really frustrating to be on the back foot, wondering where the Hell people have gone to, and why a simple I will get back to you does not happen.

Early promotion

On Wednesday, September 11th, I will be taking part in a reading sponsored by Streetlight Guild at Kafe Kerouac. 30 poets will be reading in 30 days in the Rhapsody and Refrain Series. I'm humbled and honored to be one of them.

It's been awhile since I've read anywhere and I've written some new poems for this event. There will be new and old poems, I'll even take requests in advance.

Here's my Instagram Page for more information.

Pulled back in for a night

After a few years of discussion with Scott Woods, we finally accomplished Pairings: A Night of Wine and Poetry at his new venue - Streetlight Guild. The poetry part was provided with great skill and whimsical gravitas by Zach Hannah.

A wine budget was established and I made the selections based on personal taste and wines which would engage and please the guest. Five wines were on the menu, and all five showed their excellence.

My self confidence is shot to Hell right now for many reasons, but this showed me that after 21 years away from hosting any form of wine event, that I still was competent and capable of flexing my wine knowledge when given the opportunity.

I mean, I can go on about Germans for hours, still.

The audience was receptive, positive, and that made so much difference.

Thanks again to Scott for trusting me with his space to put on a really cool event we've been kicking around for awhile. It may happen again.

Paper Hearts

My friends Teri, Vernell, Fabio and Tyrone have made a wonderful short film. You should take four and a half minutes to watch it.

Paper Hearts from Sweet Pie Media on Vimeo.

Fine dining is not dead

“Are you a musician?” The server asked me. “You look like someone I’ve seen before but I can’t place you.” After quizzing each other with various people and places we may have met, it turned out in the nineties we both worked at local wine shops and may have crossed paths at industry tastings. Maybe I’d recognize him clearer if he shaved his beard, but probably not.

It was the first time I’d been in The Refectory, one of the finest restaurants in the city, in my entire time here, and the moment I entered the main dining room I regretted missing out on those lost decades. It’s a beautiful space in an old church. The decor was fresh, there was nothing tired about the place.

And we were there now. Finally met the sommelier after following him on social media for a few years. He poured us a couple of amuse bouche samples of obscure Italian wines to start the show.

We had very good wine. She had antelope, I had the four course chef’s menu. The sous vide beef shoulder was outstanding. Nothing was rushed. The staff on the floor were all working together with a learned precision that was not pretentious, but natural. Our dinner a few years back at the Ubiquitous Chip in Glasgow was outstanding in quality and service, but last night went past that. The Refectory is a skilled team from front of house to back.

There was no way I could afford to go in there until now. Even when I was in the wine business in the nineties it could not be done.

As we ate I was thought about a quote a local chef recently said in an article about her. She said that fine dining was dead. This is the same chef who passively/aggressively insulted my wife in front of a dining room full of people. The same chef who partnered with a local brewery owner who is now accused of sexual assault by multiple women. Fine dining is not dead, it’s the lazy, uncreative and harmful attitudes of those who control the narrative that should be. On our way out we walked past one of the former food critics from the Dispatch, who had just finished his dinner. I was never fond of his writing style, it turned into a template the last few years of his reign. Yet when a place gets outstanding reviews for over thirty years, innovates with the times to provide a superior dining experience, you keep going back. As will we, sooner than later. It’s worth it.

When the hunt eats you

Went to my off the beaten patch record store today to do some digging. And dig I did. For a change, I went in with a list of four records and ended up finding three of them. Purchased two since one of them was not in decent condition.

I’ve written about and told others about Memory Lane Records before and how it is so quirky. The owner is a fair man who today was in the rum and cokes. We were talking about a singer/songwriter who neither of us knew or could find out any information about. He somehow scored a single side of a five disc collection on VJ Records. It could have been a misspelling on the label, because I found a Wikipedia entry about this dude, Bobby Jameson. But the cataloger in me cannot find a true connection between the songs on the record and the songs he wrote. So be it.

Found five records to buy, and here is where the fun lies in this place - none of the records are priced. One of the records was a copy of Los Bravos’ Black Is Black in very good condition.

“Where did you find this?” Al asked as he marveled at its condition while turning the pages of his price book.

It had a book value of $75, he was going to charge me $50 and I passed on that. Al said he was probably going to take it home with him. He did play a couple of songs from it and may be still. It’s a very good record in excellent condition. I would have been thrilled to own it.

When I left I thanked him and said I was glad I could find that record for him. I’ll be back, but damn.

The tone I've been looking for

When people are looking through over 40 years of your life on one side of the room, and you are on the other - holding forth and making gin cocktails, it can get a bit stressful.

The Westgate Cavern was festive on Saturday night. We had a very nice party and everyone hung out in the basement this time out. People were looking through my record collection without me hovering over them, judging my life's work. I'm sure all the cool stuff they liked was added by my wife. In the end, it all worked out. The worst thing was one record being misfiled - I hope a librarian did not do that. Got to add some new vinyl as my brother's partner came to the party, gifting me of his record collection. I spent some time yesterday weeding out the duplicates and what will move along and added some cool stuff and things he had that I lost in the flood to Discogs. That Lloyd Cole Rattlesnakes record is damn good.

There's a new member of the family also. Finally bit the bullet and got a new amp. The Supro Comet is a little tube dynamo. A ten inch speaker powered by six or fourteen watts of power, and it cranks at both. Good reverb and a smooth tremolo makes it what will be the last amp I ever need.

It was a bit of adventure getting the amp. I had bought from the company before and thought I put in my new address. I did not. Saw that it was shipped to the old address and races over there right away. When I got there, the guy had his laptop open and said, "You work for Ohio State." He was googling me to find some contact info as he suspected I'd need this, and he was right. And he is an honest man, this renter of my old house. Also, apologies to all the people I spoke with at UPS over the past week. My tone was not appropriate.

So it is good, a solid party turn out despite steady rain that ranged from a hard drizzle to near biblical. The puddle in the downstairs bathroom held off forming until after everyone left.

Hugs and handshakes

It's a rare time when I can say I saw two of the best concerts I've seen in the past 18 years in less than a week, but it happened.

We took a road trip to Dayton to see David Byrne last Saturday. It had been over thirty years since I saw him with Talking Heads during the infamous Stop Making Sense tour in Buffalo. I was excited to see this tour as friends of mine had seen him earlier this year and had glowing reviews.

This was my first visit to the Rose Music Center and I was very impressed with the venue. Good sight lines, very good sound, friendly enough staff and the facilities were clean. Very classy.

The Sway Brothers in front of me, who stood the whole show despite having no one in front of them, were not classy at all. They were That Guy.



Despite the Dude Bros being Dude Bros, I managed to enjoy the performance. The staging was the boldest I'd ever seen - a bare stage surrounded by a grey beaded curtain on three sides. No amps, no drum risers, no cords. Just a troop of 14 musicians in synch with each other. It was magnificent. The lighting was awesome.



Byrne is still fit and in fine voice. The set was about a third of well chosen Talking Heads material and the theme was rhythm and joy. There is an underlying message though, during one song the entire band took a knee and the last song was Janelle Monae's Hell You Talmbout in which the band chanted the names of African Americans who have been murdered by police. It was a very powerful show that is just below that old Talking Heads show if I was ever to rank concerts I've been to.

It was with reservations five nights later that we went to the Basement, a venue I really do not like. When Nicole Atkins is coming through town though, you have to make the sacrifice. There was not that big of a crowd, so we managed to find a spot near the stage to see the opening band Ruby Boots. I was not familiar with her at all, but she made a more than a few fans with her strong voice and poignant songwriting. Best Australian opener I've seen since Kasey Chambers so long ago. We talked to her after the show and my wife and her bonded about Glasgow, where she's going for the first time later this year.

The Basement has this pit in front of the stage, where I have not been for a show due to my claustrophobia and not wanting to be where it's loud, but a friend of ours was down there so we gave it a shot.

We had very good stage proximity, so close that Nicole urged us all little closer after the first song.



The sound was not overpowering, there were no dude bros invading people's space or sight lines. It was a great show. It was wonderful to see Atkins after wanting to for so long. When I saw her perform the first time, on Letterman years ago, I was a fan then and there. Her voice is a gift and in a decent and kind world she should be better known.

So go out and get Goodnight Rhonda Lee.

After the show we hung out and talked to Scott, her guitarist. Very good dude who played with Ruby Boots her whole set so he pulled double duty. I have not mentioned the place was a freaking sauna and much respect for the bands to get through it.

The guitarist went for a drink and I left my wife for a moment, when I got back Nicole came out and went right toward her. She said she saw us dancing and they bonded over Scotland, I did not know her husband was Scottish. She's really cool, and genuine. Emma got the hug, I got the handshake. It helps to have a mad hot wife with a killer accent.

It was a fine, albeit an exhausting week.

To distract myself from the violence

I first saw this band during Holler last March. A couple of things impressed my about this Columbus band: they write their own songs, play no covers, and they do not suck.

What I thought was missing was one key song. The arrogant A&R guy in my wondered where the hit was.

They're getting closer, a lot closer.



Good stuff here.

In other music news I bought an Ibanez AS73 on eBay a couple of weeks ago on a very good auction win. Took it in to my guitar teacher and he went nuts over the instrument. He was very impressed.

Had my lesson tonight and the luthiers in the shop told me he bought an Ibanez they brought in this week. Not the model I have, but an upgrade. I went to the practice room, saw it on the stand and asked him if I should get a referral fee from Ibanez.

Then we worked on Downtown. Yes, the Petula Clark song.

Had a blast tonight. Needed it.

Quiet ideas in my head

The street I live on is 99% quieter than the last one and it is taking time to get used to. No longer are there people doing 60 in a 25. No more 2AM sirens, although there were helicopters during the day on Thursday. When you deal with fifteen years of noise, you do not necessarily miss it but it is a new normal.

The tree has been up for a week, we all have stockings over the mantel now.

Stockings.

Mantel.

Our bedroom is cold so we got a space heater. We're getting a rug for part of the upstairs space as well. There will be more enhancements, upgrades and replacements coming as they do. Still sorting out the basement space. Have a few pieces of relevant art going down there and an idea for another that could be a commission piece, but who knows?

Christmas Eve is a week away. It's gone so fast amidst the daily chaos of our times. And in all of the good that did happen, there have been a few sad losses in a non-political way, too.

Blurred days

Been another week of loading up the car, unloading it all in the new house. Repeat. Somewhere in there my wife made a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. I did take the garbage bin out to where one of my new neighbors said to on trash day. The next morning it was on the opposite side of the alley where I put it, next to my gate. This was nice of someone.

Nothing really heavy is left for me to move, than's what movers are for on Thursday. Still have to slide the washer in the new house over to make room for our newer one. Anyone want a washer? Let me know. You move it out, you own it. Even most clothing has been taken over to the new place. Kitchen stuff soon.

The basement is taking good shape. Where the music, guitars and fun things are.

Five more days and the transition should be done. Then to get the old place ready to sell, and the sooner the better for that.

Really, do not vandalize cemeteries

My third Great-Grandfather, Joseph Plunkett served in the army with the Massachusetts Volunteers during The Civil War. His arm was either injured or blown off during the Battle of Petersburg and he was taken prisoner. He was freed during a prisoner exchange a couple of months later. I’m not certain what POW camp he was detained in, but it would not have been an easy place to be captive.

My Great-Uncle Eddie was killed in action on March 26th, 1945 while the U.S. Army crossed the Rhine River. He was 20 years old and his death had a profound impact on my family, especially that of my Grandfather who was 20 years older and looked after him almost like a son. He is buried in the St. Avold Cemetery in France because my Grandfather wanted him buried there with his buddies. I have not been there but I have photographs of the site that were taken by relatives who went to pay their respects to their Brother or their Uncle.

As you know I have a deep respect for cemeteries and the way we honor and remember our dead. I’ve also gained respect for how we honor our war dead. So when I saw that the Camp Chase cemetery, about a mile from my house, was vandalized last night, it disappointed me.

Camp Chase was a military camp in Columbus, during The Civil War it became a prisoner of war facility. Over 2,000 confederate soldiers lost their lives in the dirty, unsafe and medically primitive facility. Call it the Andersonville of the north.

I honor the gravesites of the war dead of the average soldier. Men who were often threatened by evil governments with death of their own families to enlist for a terrible cause. Win or lose, war is shit. Luckily my family was on the winning side of the wars. Yet, I do not hate Germans for killing my Great-Uncle as I suspect a terrified average 20 year old was probably the one who pulled the trigger in retreat.

The Camp Chase site is rather humble, not very well kept and in a non-vibrant part of Columbus. There is a stone that has an engraving of why the site is there and on top of an arch was a statue of a generic confederate soldier, with the inscription “Americans” underneath. That statue was taken down, after being up there for over 100 years, by vandals last night. I support that the meaning of the camp and it’s origins should be updated for our times. I do not agree that cemetery vandalism and desecration is the way to accomplish this.

The streets were full of slow moving cars

My son started school today and is technically in ninth grade. It's hard enough to let that try and sink in before realizing he will be fifteen in two weeks. He's growing taller, his feet are almost as big as mine and we're going out for new shoes this weekend.

The rest is still unknown.

Received a direct message a couple of days ago from a person who had never heard of Tom Lehrer before they came across my blog. The person was having a rough time of it recently and the discovery of his music really improved their mood. I was thanked profusely.

Glad that I could make a difference in a small, positive way. Something I thought about after a rough day in which I sat in traffic four about three and a half out of four hours straight then walked into a boisterous and loud restaurant when all I wanted was a tiny bit of peace and quiet. I plodded through, and my lovely wife did her best to improve my own stressed out ass.

Now if we all could try and make that much of a difference to better shit.

In West Columbus, and other sad places

The original Lunatic Asylum of Ohio was constructed in Columbus in 1835 on Columbus’ near east side. It burned down in 1868 and the rebuild on the west side of the city was completed in 1877. It was a tremendous building, said to be the largest structure under one roof until the Pentagon was built. If you walked around it, the distance was over a mile.

In the late 1980’s the building was abandoned and finally demolished in the 1990’s. Some of the architectural details, such as railings and windows, were salvaged and installed in the Hilltop Library - where I worked for a few years.

It was a hospital where the criminally insane were sent, where the indigent ended up, and where some poor families dropped off their children and relatives.

There are a couple of cemeteries on the site, They are hidden on the west side of Columbus. The one I finally went to is fairly easy to find. It is north of the BMV, just east of a center where violent juveniles are housed and next to the Columbus Police Department’s Heliport.



It’s a very peaceful, green space but looking at the stones is a very sad experience.



Who were these people? How many of them died alone? How many of them died not knowing they had family out there, or no family left?



How many were truly mentally ill and not given the help they deserved. How many were simply odd or misunderstood?

How many were autistic?



Here is a stone that simply labels a mass grave of human beings, Specimens. This is not the only one.



Here are row after row of tiny stones that reduced people’s names to numbers.



There were so many of these types of institutions all over the country, including one a couple of miles from where I grew up. Most of them had cemeteries just like this one. The numbers of people who were not treated like human beings, not given any assistance or dignity had to be staggering. Yet here we are today, facing an uncountable number of people with autism and other disabilities and we are cutting services instead of creating them. As a society we are not prepared for this storm. I’m not sure if this culture wants to take care of the most vulnerable.



Hope you all had a woke Autism Awareness Month. May is ALS, Arthritis, Cystic Fibrosis, Huntington’s Disease, Lupus, Mental Health, Stroke, Vision and more awareness month. That’s a lot to be aware of. Will no one will be aware of autism for another year?

Akai Hana did not pop out at me

Been ill most of the week, a lingering malaise of various internal organs. Each day I last about a half hour further before a quick fade out that leads into not being able to fall asleep.

At least the taxes are done. After all the financial changes of the past year we had them done professionally and what a relief. Total piece of mind, even if we owed.

It's still autism awareness month, right? Am I still aware? I'll find out more tomorrow afternoon.

It seems Brew Dog have sold a chunk of themselves to a capital firm. Looks like that's how they're going to fund the hotel on the Canal Winchester property. Things are getting weird now that the punk founders are multi-millionaires.

All of this could be a moot point if this administration starts blowing up more than runways.

April is national poetry month too. The less said about my writing, the better.

Instead of continuing, it might be time to get into that strawberry parfait.

Throw me a line, I'm sinking fast

I got into the Roxy Music scene as late as possible. Avalon was the first record of theirs I really came to love, of course it was their last studio release. Bryan Ferry would continue his diverse solo career and would occasionally tour. A large tour was rare for him in the United States. To come to Ohio, let alone Columbus was something he had not done in the 27 years I've lived here so I jumped at the chance to see him when tickets went on sale.

After 2016, you want to see your musical heroes when you get the chance.

The show started off sounding muddy, with the bass overwhelming the sound. I heard one or two people yell out, "kill the bass!" between songs. They had a point. After about 45 minutes the sound issue was cleared up.

Ferry was still shuffling about the stage. Good energy for a man who is over seventy. I was not expecting any high leg kicks, so that was all good. He can't hit the high notes as well, but he settled in a decent lower tone. His stage presence is on point. His fashion, impeccable.

The light show was one of the best I've seen, my iPhone could not do it justice.

The canon was deeply represented, a lot of the first Roxy Music record was played live. Rare stuff so I'm told. The band was smoking hot. All worth the thirty five year wait.

I do like the meatball sandwich at Gallo's on Riverside Drive

It's been all internet spam here because it's overwhelming out there right now. If you are capable of reading this, you already know about the political climate of this country, and the world for that matter.

Bullet points just are not cutting it for me right now. Twitter threads that people say are important and must scrolls become redundant - in the way you have to sign into get in line at the Spectrum once Time Warner cable customer service office.

After 27 years I finally quit Time Warner in favor of another company. I originally wanted to go with another cable company, but after promising me a weekend installation time they backed out and we could not even agree on a late afternoon installation.

So here we are now.

Just got back from a Blue Jackets victory. They are one point from the franchise high in points with 92 points. There are sixteen games to play. What an incredible season this team is finally having.

Taking on the sunshine brigade.

Earlier a friend did a Facebook post inviting us to share unpopular Columbus opinions. It turned into a long thread. It seems that some feathers got ruffled as some of their sacred cows were grilled.

Anyway, to contrast.

Ten things I think are cool about Columbus:
1) The number of first run and art films available. Plus the wonderful CAPA Summer Movie Series.
2) You can find a good poetry reading just about any night.
3) My mortgage is about a third of what some people are paying in rent.
4) The Scioto Mile is an asset to downtown.
5) The Metroparks system is well taken care of, pretty safe, and a great way to connect with nature.
6) Our public library system is thriving where others are being cannibalized.
7) Four String Brewery's commitment to the west side. They make some good beer too.
8) The thrifting here is good. Plenty of places to shop.
9) Not one, not two, not three but four (Southern, Ohio, Palace, Lincoln) old theaters have been preserved and restored to their former glory. A lot of places can no longer claim one.
10) Our ice cream kicks ass.