"'In the 'it's all about me' phase of my life"

Good things come to those who wait, someone once said, but waiting is the hardest part, as someone else said. This combination of adages describes my three-year-long saga to see They Might Be Giants, which finally concluded after the band added more dates and locations to their profusely postponed tour (top left). TMBG performed Flood in fine form at a small venue in Columbus; it wasn't exactly the 9:30 Club, but it was right on time (top right). The concert was just one event in a series of self-indulgences that helped me through seasonal depression in non-sunny Ohio. In a much bigger venue, the Palace Theatre, I spent an evening with Cary Elwes, star of the The Princess Bride, a comic masterpiece that still stands up (bottom left). I did a little humor myself, not stand-up but improv classes with Hashtag Comedy, which culminated in a graduation show at Woodlands Tavern, where we warmed up as a class backstage (bottom right). 

 

 

The truth is, I have been taking informal improv courses since I was a student at Ohio University, where I met a wonderfully witty group of women who always keep me on my toes (top left), even when we are talking about hand stuff (top right). That's an inside joke from a reunion trip to Hocking Hills, where we mostly cracked one another up around the fireplace of our cabin (middle left). But we did make an outing to our alma mater. After a snowy stroll through College Green (middle right), we hit the Uptown highlights: shopping at College Bookstore (bottom left), lunch at Bagel Street Deli (bottom right), and day drinks at Tony's Tavern.

  

   

 

A couple of weekends later, we made an off-campus trip to hang out with another group of OU friends, this time in Dublin. Again, we mostly just shared laughs in the living room of our gracious host, but we did brave the winds to visit Bridge Park, a newish multi-use development on the east bank of the Scioto River. A pedestrian bridge called the Dublin Link (top left) provides a path to the older part of the city (top right), where we hiked to Indian Run Falls (bottom) before grabbing some beers back on the other side of the bridge, under the watch of a buffalo at The Roosevelt Room.

 

I am lucky to have a full collection of fresh air friends who are willing to stroll then swill. I met up with Sean at Wooster Memorial Park, where we did a loop that included lots of downed trees after recent heavy rains and winds (top). Luckily, the waters had receded as we had to cross Rathburn Run multiple times (bottom left) to ascend and descend then ascend again through the forests that had withstood the weather (bottom right). Afterward, we stormed JAFB Wooster Brewery for some refreshment -- and some amusement from the adjacent table, which was having an indictment party, complete with a cake decorated with the scales of justice. 

  

A newish addition to the trail team is Bowie. Although he has led us on some longish walks, our first full hike was on the A.W. Marion State Park Loop Trail (top left). I really had to hustle with my hiking stick to keep up with him (top right). We could have used his go-forth attitude when we visited Bison Hollow Preserve. It took us quite a while to figure out how to get from the top of its slot falls (middle left) to the bottom (middle right) and into its sandstone gorge (bottom left). The hollow, which is pending dedication as a full-fledged state nature preserve, got its name from being the reported location of the last native Ohio bison. To be honest, the fact that bison were native to Ohio was a discovery to me, as was a light waterfall we found in a side gully (bottom right). In the spirit of self-indulgence, I declared the cataract as my claim, calling it Kim's Trickle.

  

 

 

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“The Insider Newspaper.” Insider Newspaper, The, vol. 9, no. 4, Oct. 2009. JSTOR, https://jstor.org/stable/community.34103882. Accessed 1 May 2023.

"Light comment on the great American weekend getaway"

Since I started my new job less than a year ago, I haven't felt like I should take any extended periods of time off for vacation. So just like back in my early teaching days, I have been focusing on long weekend trips instead. After hosting friends and family for Thanksgiving (top left), we headed to Louisville for the traditional post-dinner sports-binging. We expected to watch the Ohio State-Michigan game without the usual Buckeye fan fury, but right before kickoff, a couple conspicuously dressed in a lot of scarlet and grey sat next to us at Highlands Tap Room (top right). We were not amused; we were much happier watching the U.S.-England World Cup match at Sports and Social Club the day before, even though it resulted in a tie (bottom).

 

The other main competition of the weekend was karaoke at Third Street Dive, a bar a couple of blocks from our accommodations (top left). As Muhammad Ali once said, it's hard to be humble when you're as great as I am, at least at singing shamelessly. Perhaps my pride was inspired by visiting his grave (top right). Or by the physical prowess we demonstrated in walking from downtown to Cave Hill Cemetery (bottom), and then around only a portion of it. The grounds are so extensive that we crossed seeing Colonel Sanders' grave off our bucket list (pun intended).

 

Catty-corner just steps away from the cemetery was PG&J's Dog Park Bar, an honest-to-goodness bar with garage doors that can be opened to let furry friends frolic to and fro throughout the establishment while their owners imbibe (top). This is a concept that we immediately decided should be replicated in Ohio, mainly because shortly after our trip we got a puppy. The Wednesday before our trip, we met three dogs at Gigi's, and the Tuesday after, we went back to take one, named Shelby, home as a foster. Eventually formally adopted and renamed Bowie, he is the most interesting and luckiest dog in the world, if you ask me (middle left). So now, watching sports routinely involves canine obstructions (middle right). And since there's no PG&J's, we have to settle for visiting the non-alcoholic dog park (bottom left) and walking at local Metro Parks (bottom right).

  

 

Although Bowie is a great hiker, we don't always bring him with us on the trails. Dogs are allowed on the trail at Old Man's Cave (top left), but Bowie stayed home because we had brunch beforehand at nearby Hocking Hills State Park Lodge. Plus, I would have been scared to watch him scramble across slippery bridges above frigid waters (top right). That would have been less of an issue during our third visit to Little Rocky Hollow because the creeks were iced over; however, dogs are prohibited in the state nature preserve (middle). It is unclear whether dogs are welcome at the privately-maintained Pretty Run Preserve (bottom left), but considering the muddy track we had to take to get there (bottom right), it's probably best that Bowie's paws stayed put.

 

  

Although Bowie is as active as any adolescent dog, he knows how to calm down, too. He has no problem just being a couch burrito, especially when we are with him (top left). It was nice to stay home for the holidays because he and the blanket kept us warm during a severe cold snap. Despite the below-zero temperatures, we ventured out for our traditional Christmas morning breakfast at Waffle House (top right). The weather had broken by February, when I received my Christmas present: tickets to The Fuzz at Natalie's Grandview (bottom). The Police cover band was well worth staying up late on a work night, something else that has been happening more since I started this new job, for some reason.

 

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“Life Lines.” Life Lines, vol. 12, no. 83, July 1970. JSTOR, https://jstor.org/stable/community.28146547. Accessed 15 Feb. 2023.

"Opening to the camper a new land"

For the maiden voyage of our new camper, we decided to stick to familiar (and nearby) ground so we could focus on any issues that arose -- and even bail out to a good night's sleep at home if necessary. It was a good thing, too, because when we arrived at Burr Oak State Park and attempted to plug in, the electricity did not work, even though it had been fine at our house. With some troubleshooting, we figured out that a fuse had come loose during transit, so we were able to get the refrigerator humming and the lights blazing, which was enough to convince us to stay overnight. 

To reward our (read: Scott's) problem-solving skills, we had dinner at the park's lodge then relaxed by the fire (left). In the morning, we had planned to cook a quick breakfast before setting out on a bike ride, and that's when we discovered that the camper stove wasn't working properly: the gas flow was so low that a burner would only stay lit for a few seconds. Not willing to waste our day with more tinkering, we picked up McDonald's on our way to the trailhead instead. A few miles into the ride, we met a friendly donkey (right), not to be confused with the ass I was for not packing our travel propane stove. Although we later resolved the gas stove problem by replacing the regulator, that Coleman is now permanently stashed in the camper as a back-up. 

 

Our next camping trip was farther afield but less pressure because it was a stay through Harvest Hosts, a subscription service that gives you access to non-hookup sites at businesses such as farms, wineries, and breweries. We didn't have to worry about any electricity or gas woes in the parking lot of Wiedemann's Fine Beer because all we intended to do there was sleep (top left). You pay to be a member of Harvest Hosts, but you don't pay anything directly to the host, with the expectation that you will patronize the establishment instead. We happily hit the suggested minimum bill amount with lunch and beer in the taproom (top right), whose vintage bathrooms seemed more of a fitting match for our camper than for a former funeral home (bottom).

 

Our main destination, however, was downtown Cincinnati. A bus that stopped right outside the brewery took us south into the heart of the city, where we wandered around a while before hopping on the Connector Streetcar to get to the Over-the-Rhine district (top left). The tram was full of murals by an artist whose name I recognized from high school: Brent Billingsley (top right). I enjoyed examining his work and the Queen Cityscape on our way to Findlay Market, where we picked up a snack from one of the many stalls (bottom left). I had visited Rhinegeist Brewery by myself on a self-guided brew-by-bike tour, and I was eager to check out the rooftop patio on a less rainy day (bottom middle). I was also excited to see that another taproom, Northern Row Brewery, had opened around the corner (bottom right). 

  

  

Northern Row was packed because it was hosting the pre-game radio show for the competition we had come to Cincinnati for. No, not the Bengals or the Reds, although we did mingle with some Jungle members in the bars on the strip between Paycor Stadium and the Great American Ball Park (top) before we headed to TQL Stadium for the Hell Is Real Derby (middle left). The name of the annual rivalry match between the Columbus Crew and FC Cincinnati comes from a sign on I-71 between the two Ohio cities (middle right). The final was a 2-2 tie, resulting from a bad non-call for an offsides goal by the Crew (bottom). 

   

By our third trip in the camper, to East Harbor State Park, we felt prepared. We had addressed all the glitches and had even procured some site amenities, including a space heater, a picnic tablecloth, and an outdoor rug (top). However, we did not acquire enough spooky accoutrements because we had no idea that the park was going to be packed for one of its two weekend Halloween campouts. While other sites had full-on scary spectacles, we simply hung a couple skeletons on a tree (bottom left). Still, we got into the spirit by walking on a haunted trail after we rode our bikes to watch the sun set over Lake Erie (bottom right).

 

The next day, while trick-or-treaters took over the campground, we struck out for Put-in-Bay. We took the ferry to South Bass Island then rode our bikes around the perimeter of the island, stopping for a couple of hikes at Massie Cliffside Preserve and Scheeff East Point Nature Preserve (top left), where we saw a fellow ferry commuter hiking with some friends (top right). Then we hit a few drinking establishments, including Joe's Bar, a dive I can't believe I didn't know about sooner. Put-in-Bay was still pretty packed, despite being late in the season, much like our campground. We managed to escape the crowds with a morning stroll on the state park's trails, where the only life we saw were fishermen (top middle), butterflies (bottom middle left), woodpeckers (bottom middle right), and deer (bottom).

 

 

Although we cooked breakfast on our now-functioning gas stove, we ate dinner at nearby restaurants. When we headed into Port Clinton after our hike, we hit up the Clinton House (top left) before heading to a local haunt dear to our hearts. Bell Mell Tavern was just as laid-back and welcoming as we remembered from GOBA 2019, even though it seemed like some of its customers had been wasting away there since our last visit (top right). We watched the Browns and played a game of pool while we waited for our takeout pizza. We ate our pie by the fire back at the campground, which had cleared out upon the conclusion of the All Hallow's Eve festivities (bottom). Having the place basically to ourselves for one night was a nice final touch to our first fully problem-free camper outing.

 

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HUBBARD, HENRY V. “LANDSCAPE DEVELOPMENT BASED ON CONSERVATION: AS PRACTICED IN THE NATIONAL PARK SERVICE.” Landscape Architecture, vol. 29, no. 3, 1939, pp. 104–21. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44670859. Accessed 23 Jan. 2023.