Bistro-iffic

Despite the forty mile an hour winds that seem to be becoming commonplace this year, we were able to take advantage of an evening and dine at Tremont's newest establishment, Bistro on Lincoln Park. What we found wasn't exactly a surprise, but certainly a welcome addition to the neighborhood. Situated in the old Sage Bistro spot on the corner of West 11th and Kenilworth Avenue, the paned windows emit a warm glow that has been sorely missed.

Stepping inside, customers are greeted in a modern, minimal, but appealing bar area. Their decision to limit access doors to one not directly in the path of the weather outside was a wise one. The place was nearly deserted, with empty glasses and lone candles marking votive hopefulness on the part of the chef, staff, and management. We were treated to a choice window table, and were promptly greeted by an attentive server. The hardwood floors enhanced the warm eminance of the incandescent lighting, and the linen tablecloths and napkins added much to the casual chic vibe.

We were pleasantly surprised to find some brew choices not found in most fine dining establishments, notably: Chimay (Red) and Duvel, among the more traditional domestic and import offerings. Prices for drinks remained on the low side, with Chimay going for a mere $5. Martinis were $9 across the board. In a kind and much appreciated gesture, Chef Pete Joyce prepared for our party a wonderful amuse, a sweet/savory spoonful of duck and... sorry... I was so excited for the bite that I missed the description.

For dinner, I could not pass on the siren call of the Duck Confit; deliciously succulent on the bone preparation with "Crispy Truffled Potatoes, Bacon Lardons, and Wild Mushroom Fricassee". On the whole, this meal achieved much greater flavor than what the sum of its parts would have been assumed, with the lardons providing just right amount of salty indulgence paired with the potatoes and mushrooms. The duck was rich, dark, and fall off the bone delicious. See the Menu here.

And granted, it was a Monday evening after a major holiday, but the lack of business was troubling. With the economy in the tank, it's understandable for people to cut back, but should you get the urge for something new, you could do considerably worse than this...

Variety is the Spice of Life

Great news from the PD today as they report that the now silent Variety Theatre at Lorain and West 118th will be refurbished by Westown CDC and reopened as a movie house! First Detroit-Shoreway, and now this!

A glimpse of the theatre today

On my (ever-less frequent) runs, I always passed this place with a feeling of sad nostalgia. Not an uncommon emotion while passing through much of Cleveland, I suppose, but a theatre especially evokes a feeling of 'how things used to be'. Built as a vaudeville stage and movie house in 1927, the Variety served the neighborhood ably for decades.

Lorain Ave. & the Variety Theatre in 1953

But, as the economy worsened, the neighborhoods changed, and the area slowly decayed. The theatre, by then a music venue (which actually hosted bands like Metallica and Motorhead) closed in 1986.

Now, with the promise of a renovation and a (huge, 118 page) master plan for the area, local residents and CDC's are stepping up their efforts to bring some style, sophistication and substance to the area. A welcome change indeed.

A Devilish Development

Eastsiders and Westsiders alike can rejoice in the recent opening of a new brewery in tropical Cleveland! Perhaps the location on East 36th can help bridge the ever-growing gap over the St. Clair/Ontario line. Indigo Imp, a production brewery start up has released two seasonal beers for the parched Cleveland market. Rumors have been floating through the internets for many months regarding the brewery, and now the veil has been lifted.

According to the site: "There are two initial release beers from Indigo Imp. Both are naturally carbonated, unfiltered, un-pasteurized, Real Ales. The first is Blonde Bombshell, an American blonde ale with a smooth malty taste, moderate hop bitterness, and slightly fruity and nutty aftertaste. The second is Winter Solstice, a deep amber, full bodied ale, brewed with four different malts, Cascade hops and just enough orange peel and cinnamon to be Impishly delicious. Throughout the year, we will offer a variety of seasonal beers and special release beers in an array of styles."

Watch out GLBC, there's a new contender on the block. And REAL ALE?!? Now that's something to get excited about*... According to the website, the brews are available at basically all Northeast Ohio Heinen's stores, as well as at the brewery. I think with this morning's closing of Cleveland State because of a water main break, the fates are aligning. TIME FOR A FIELD TRIP!!!

It's a (pre-) Festivus miracle!

*For those of you interested: "Real Ale is the very first kind of beer that was produced in sealed containers. It is a beer that has been naturally carbonated in the container from which it is served... Newly fermented beer is placed in the cask with a small amount of priming sugar or unfermented beer and then sealed with a bung. During the next weeks, a secondary fermentation takes place in the cask and the resulting carbon dioxide is absorbed into the beer giving the beer natural carbonation."

Nothing like beer sealed with a bung...

A Very Belgian Christmas

Yes Virginia, there are other Christmas beers than Great Lakes...

Oh Beer Engine, Beer Engine... How much do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

CURRENT DRAFT LIST FOR 'XMAS IN BELGIUM' DECEMBER 12th

INCLUDES OTHER TREATS - OTHER'S TO REPLACE SEASONALS

Thirsty Dog '12 Dogs of Christmas Ale', Ohio
Delirium 'Noel', Belgium
Buckeye 'Ho Ho Ho Magic Dubbel', Ohio
Great Divide 'Hibernation', Colorado
Bell's 'Christmas Ale', Michigan

Bell's 'Winter White Ale', Michigan
Heavy Seas 'Winter Storm', Maryland
Rogue 'Santa's Private Reserve', Oregon
Corsendonk 'Christmas Ale', Belgium
Scaldis (Bush) 'Noel', Belgium

Southern Tier 'Krampus', New York
Brooklyn 'Winter Ale', New York
St. Bernardus 'Christmas Ale', Belgium
Left Hand 'Snowbound Winter Ale', Colorado
Southern Tier "Old man Winter Ale', New York
Troegs 'Mad Elf Ale', Pennsylvania
Penn 'St. Nik', Pennsylvania
Dupont 'Avec les Bons Voeux.', Belgium

Southern Tier 'Unearthly Imperial IPA', New York

Southern Tier 'Choklat Imperial Chocolate Stout', New York

Buckeye 'Madison Ale' (Kolsch), Ohio

Buckeye 'Hippie IPA', Ohio

Young's 'Double Chocolate Stout', England

'Franziskaner', Germany

'Genesee Lager', New York

CURRENT SEASONAL BOTTLES AVAILABLE NOW

ALL BOTTLES ALWAYS AVAILABLE 'TO GO'

Buckeye Ho Ho Ho Magic Dubbel, Ohio, 8% ABV
De Dolle Stille Nacht, Belgium, 12%
De Ranke Pere Noel, Belgium, 7% ABV
Gulden Draak Vintage '08, Belgium, 7.5% ABV
Jolly Pumpkin Noel De Calabaza, Michigan, 9% ABV
Kerstmutske Christmas Nightcap, Belgium, 7.4% ABV
Lurgashall Christmas Mead, England, 12.5% ABV
Mikkeller To/From, Denmark, 8% ABV
Nogne O Winter Ale, Norway, 8.5% ABV
Redstone Winter Solstice Mead, Colorado
Ridgeway Criminally Bad Elf, England, 10.5% ABV
Ridgeway Insanely Bad Elf, England, 11.2% ABV
Ridgeway Lump Of Coal, England, 8% ABV
Ridgeway Santas Butt Winter Porter, England, 6% ABV
Serafijn Christmas Ale, Belgium, 8% ABV
Southern Tier Old Man Winter Ale, New York, 8% ABV
Troegs The Mad Elf Holiday Ale, Pennsylvania, 8% ABV
Winterkoninkske, Belgium, 8.3% ABV
Zinnebir X-mas, Belgium, 7% ABV

CURRENTLY ON THE TWO 'ENGINES'

Heavy Seas Winter Storm (Imperial ESB)

Bell's Best Brown Ale

So... by my count that's 46 ways... bown chicki bow wow...

Excess, Largesse, Repossess

Vanity Fair features a fascinating article in its January issue pertaining to the narcissian tumble of the Wall Street investment bankers and hedge fund managers of the past six months. It's absolutely incredible that so striking a contrast can be seen in an industry that less than a year ago was thriving; drawing the best (and arguably greediest) minds and paying the multi-million dollar salaries to rain-makers in the their mid to late 20's!

Personally, I am torn about the fall. The losses in pension funds and 401k's for hardworking people is a dangerously tragic turn, especially for those (who were) close to retirement. But I find myself subconsciously pleased to see the high rollers of Wall Street take a hit. The unending stream of stories revealing their utter largesse and "let them eat cake" attitudes show a segment of society whose selfish dealings and ignorant speculation have brought the greatest nation in the world to a grinding halt.

One example, of many: "Tired of the 90-minute commute, Joe bought a helicopter for the ride. When he realized the chopper couldn’t fly to Manhattan in inclement weather, he got a seaplane." Many will say that Joe earned what he made, that it was his prerogative to buy a seaplane for his 90 minute commute... for days when his helicopter couldn't do the job... (sigh)

This, however, is a falsehood. The truth is that these 'bankers', using the term extremely liberally, took the money others (re: us) entrusted to them to invest wisely, as their predecessors had done and whose reputations they mortgaged. Greed, and a lack of repercussions until now, led those bankers to leverage every dollar into twenty dollars, for example, in speculative investments. As they saw it, on the off chance a particular bet wouldn't pay off, their other irons in the fire would provide them with the multi-million dollar bonus at the end of the year. As VF so aptly puts it: "Groups like the Operative Plasterers and Cement Masons International Association Local 262 and the Fire & Police Pension Association of Colorado—these were among the plaintiffs who hadn’t even known they were part of the gilded age. Only they were: Lehman’s bankers had used their retirement money to make those 40-to-1 bets and live like princes. Now that money was gone."

Criminal. Now these same bankers are turning the tables and working for the government, trying to untangle the mess they themselves created. I could go on about this ad nauseum, but I'll close this post with a poignant quote from Philip Howard that sums up the opportunity we all now face: "So this end of the new gilded era—it’s like a bucket that spilled, and finally the money spilled out, and we were left with a culture whose sense of purpose and responsibility were lacking. And now there’s a real need for people, and society as a whole, to rethink and re-structure their values."

RIP NCB?

News only three weeks out of date, courtesy of Transient Hobo...

In the continuing saga of downward spiral business news in Northeast Ohio, the announcement on October 20th that PNC Bank would be taking over the grand dame of Cleveland financial institutions, National City Bank was viewed by others as just another casualty in the falling dominoes of the economic crisis.

In Cleveland, however, this news was met with the kind of response usually reserved for funereal marches and finales of Cleveland Browns games. As an utter laymen in terms of financial jargon and complicated finance, my questions, like many, were simple:

'Why could PNC buy National City for $5.6 billion then get a TARP bailout by the government of $5 billion?'

'Why wasn't National City considered for that $5 billion to stave off collapse just like dozens of other financial institutions around the country? '

Even though frought with previously announced dire financial numbers like most other institutions, as late as September 29th Fortune online was proclaiming National City's tier one capital ratio (a good thing, take my word for it) as "as the highest among large banks".

Dozens of other questions come to mind, but those two sum it up. Steve LaTourette, a Republican congressman from Bainbridge has been picking fights in an attempt to block the sale, with everyone from Henry Paulson, the increasingly embattled Treasury Secretary, to the Comptroller of Currency (whoever the hell that is). Of late, Dennis Kucinich has entered the fray, either adding credibility to the cause or destroying it, I'm not sure which...

In any case, here's the bottom line if the deal goes through:
1. Cleveland loses another Fortune 500 Company, to a Pittsburgh company, no less (ouch).
2. Estimates are that 8,000 jobs could be lost locally (double ouch).
3. Any way you slice it, Cleveland is getting screwed while other companies, in more affluent locations (yes, as hard as it is to say it, even Pittsburgh is more affluent) are getting the golden ticket from Willy WonkaMcTreasurySecretary.
4. There will be no Christmas in Whoville* (*Cleveland; although that's just hyperbole).

Can't we catch a break... anywhere?

600,000 Pounds.... of... Potatoes.

Merci, Tinyfarmblog.com

So I heard the story initially on NPR last evening on my way home. Then I saw another story about it today in the NYTimes: Some good-hearted farmers in Colorado opened their farm to visitors last Saturday with an offer to essentially 'take what you can carry' in an effort to provide nutritional food to people who might need it. "Okay," so I thought, "what a nice idea. Now a few families from around the county will have some free potatoes and green beans for Thanksgiving!"

NOPE.

FORTY THOUSAND PEOPLE SHOWED UP!

What?! I mean... what?! First off, how did 40,000 people even hear about this little event? Second, they all managed to pick their way off the main highways, descend into Platteville County and find the place? (On further reflexion, I guess one just followed the line of cars that eventually wound up closing the highway). See the local news story here. If this is even close to representational of the need in this country, then we've got some serious reconsidering of our priorities to do.

A tremendously generous gesture and a wonderfully refreshing story in the ever-present doom and gloom lately, but I have one question: If this was after the harvest, and they've never done this before, does this mean that more farms could conceivably be wasting 600,000 pounds of food every autumn, or are the Millers just forgetful about where they plant things?

The Trouble in Tremont

A welcome new addition to the Tremont neighborhood is said to be opening its doors within the next week, according to Scene. Bistro on Lincoln Park will take up shop where Sage Bistro stood on the corner of Kenilworth and West 11th. The question is, how long will the shutters stay open?

With the recent closure of the ramps leading to the innerbelt and downtown, Tremont is taking a hit. The economic consequences of no major transportation access to the neighborhood could be devastating for the small businesses that have been growing steadily in the eclectic enclave for the past decade (or more). This video from the PD shows the frustration well, with even Mike Symon taking time from his busy schedule to show support:


Will this force ODOT to get their shite together and do something about it? Hopefully, but not bloody likely, at least in the short term. But, it does provide some good publicity and will bring out the 'Believelanders' who otherwise might feast in Ohio City, Beachwood, Coventry, or Rocky River... If you haven't been, it's worth the trip.

My Twin, Karl Rove...(shudder)

The one and only time I will say and mean: "Go Blue!"

I was surprised and mildly nauseated when I referenced the latest update on CNN's Political Ticker. Karl Rove, the literal dark underbelly of the Bush political machine, posted his prediction of the state by state results on his site, which in fact is an exact mirror image of my own prediction, filled out on October 10th. I have a few concerns, notably Florida, Ohio, and Indiana having seen polling numbers of the past three weeks. But I thought, ah, screw it, it would make for an early and satisfying evening should these predictions hold true. If I wind up jinxing this thing feel free to tar and feather at your discretion.

For those keeping score at home: Obama, 338, McCain, 200 (knock on wood...)

In Bizarro World

Not a bad likeness for either candidate, I must say. Thanks to Guanabee for the chuckle (and the utterly serious underlying message of course).

Did you vote yet, by the way? Despite reports in Virginia (thanks to Quinn for that tidbit), voting day for Democratic supporters is not November 5th. If you haven't, take a sandwich, a good Tolstoy novel and a toothbrush, because you're going to be in line a while. But, as this site so aptly puts it, "Voting is the perfect way not to feel like an asshole when somebody asks if you voted". (It makes for a nice election day e-card, also.) Let the fun begin...

Into the Sunset...

The eminent political oracle of MSNBC, Chuck Todd, reported a curious factoid today that might not be of interest to anyone but me. In his words:

"An unfamiliar sight will greet Texas voters this year. There’s no Bush on the ballot. The last time there wasn't a Bush on the Texas ballot -- or in Texas office -- was 1976. And if you exclude ’71 to ’77, there has been a Bush on the Texas ballot or in office since ’64."

When you think about the stranglehold the Bush family has had at various levels of state and national politics for the last 40-plus years, it is astounding (and frankly a welcome sundown if you ask me). But, this tale might not be over; watch out for Jeb.

Everyone's a Critic..

So, we're enjoying a late dinner last evening at Lolita, and relishing every morsel. Taking advantage of the happy hour deals after 9:30, we perched ourselves at bar stools just far enough from the draft of the front door and tucked into the goat cheese and chicken macaroni and the bacon, egg, onion and cheese-burger. Quietly congratulating ourselves for our dinner choices, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the woman seated next to me was sending back an order of mussels. Odd, I thought. If you like mussels, wouldn't these probably fit the bill?

A little later on, she spied us finishing up our mac & cheese, and ordered herself a plate. This too was sent back, barely touched. By now, my curiosity was piqued, as was my rancor, as I have somewhat of an 'attachment' to the place and couldn't understand what the deal was with this wine swilling harlot. When, a moment later, she turned to me, and with a look of disgust on her face told me, "I can't believe you just ate that", I was momentarily stunned. Was this petulant creature actually disdaining of my choice of meals, and moreso, my enjoyment of it?!?

Ever the kindhearted soul, I asked what the hell she was talking about, and revealed that She, with proper affectation, was a food critic for Food & Wine magazine, and the menu was appalling. I replied that I've never heard anyone not enjoy the dish, and that personally, I love it. But hey, I'm no food critic. She proceeded to play the critic card and disembowel the restaurant, the staff, the cooks, the wine, and the owner in general. I was disappointed, but skeptical, as she had been putting down glasses of wine like a whino with Thunderbird since we arrived, and was starting to slur.

So, no real clincher for this story, just a bit of anticipation to see whether in the coming months an absolute hot coal raking is laid on Lolita by Food & Wine, or whether this was just some crazy, smashed weirdo looking for some attention. Either way, WTF?

Cento Turns Uno

I had to heap praise on the already rapidly growing pile of Bar Cento and Jonathon Sawyer for their fabulously inexpensive recent anniversary celebration. Hard to believe it's been a year hence from the first waft of frites and pizzas drawing Bier Markt customers like lemmings over a cliff to the new establishment. Even harder to believe is that we're so lucky to have a place like this on the near West Side. I can remember peering through the windos at Bier Markt with Katie, fogging up the glass as we spoke with anticipation about what exactly we thought they might do with the space. Our ideas and expectations have been exceeded.

The hot and happening kitchet at Bar Cento makes some wicked grub.

Last Thursday, Cento offered a fabulous deal: buy a bottle of wine, get a pizza for free. With some subconscious level of disbelief we stepped through the doors and were almost instantly whisked to a cozy two-top just outside of the open kitchen. We ordered the house red (sorry, beer's my bag, not the vino), and the Sunnyside, the utterly delectable crispy melange of pancetta, fried (or in this case, baked) egg, and plenty of cheese and black pepper. End result; delicious dinner, slight buzz, wallet only $20 lighter. Not bad for one of the best restaurants in Cleveland. If you haven't been, do yourself a favor and go, right this minute... seriously, close your browser, log off, and get in your car.

Don't Bail!

I came across a fascinating bit of info on the NYTimes website this morning. With the gut wrenching drops in the financial markets of the past (what feels like an eternity) couple of weeks, there has been a concerted movement by many to pull out their investments and sit on cash as a sort of 'mattress money account'. Understandable, but not smart. As Ron Lieber of the Times points out:

"From 1963 to 2004, the index of American stocks tested gained 10.84 percent annually in a geometric average, which avoided overstating the true performance. For people who missed the 90 biggest-gaining days in that period, however, the annual return fell to just 3.2 percent. Less than 1 percent of the trading days accounted for 96 percent of the market gains."

So, at some point in the (we're all hoping not too distant) future, there is going to be a rebound, and portfolios, or what's left of them, will bounce. Until then, remember to save burlap sacks, which can serve as a shirt or pants in a pinch, and tin cans and string to use when that cell phone bill comes in the mail.

I see a black roof and I want it painted white...

Okay, so maybe not the best takeoff of the Rolling Stones ever thought up, but the sentiment is actually pretty on the money. Fortune reports that by installing a white (color) roof on a building it can reduce air conditioning costs by 20%. The Berkeley study from which the article is taken goes on to say that though there is not currently a carbon cap market in the US (as there is in Europe), the extrapolation potential in creating such a market and including said 'roof reflection reductions' could total up to $1.1 trillion dollars. That's a lot of money, and the only thing I want to know is, when can I 'white my roof' and get a piece of it. If Acme Petrochemical wants to buy my measly .10 acre's worth of carbon rights for some coin somewhere down the road, I say let's make a deal (because let's be honest, they're going to get it from somewhere...).

I also read a good portion of the ecophiles raging 'Comments' debate following the article, which basically broke down into chaos when the biomass supporters went negative on the reflectors and, as usual, any semblance of compromise and the greater good went completely down the drain (and was not saved in rain barrels; GASP!!!).

Maybe the Greeks are on to something...

CONFIRMED

It's official. Phish are to return.

Just the utterance of those two sentences is enough to brighten the most heinous of dark days. As speculated about (by me, here and others) for the past four, count 'em, four years, Phish has announced a three night run at the fabulous Hampton Coliseum in March, 2009. Heads everywhere rejoice!

Of course, my first instinct was to immediately enter the ticket lottery and blow all of my hard earned dollars (which I did, but won't know until October 17th if I am one of the lucky), but my second instinct... well my second instinct was to immediately contact all my closest friends and family to tell them so then they could get tickets. But my third instinct was to post this blog to let my 2 readers know (even if they don't like Phish), that the presale is under way and I am an extremely happy individual*.

*Side Note: As many know, I got married this past weekend, which is the basis for all aforementioned happiness. Phish getting back together only 15 minutes from my sister's new apartment is just the vodka on top.

The Political Compass. All roads lead... Left.

At least for myself, I, not completely surprisingly, found. As has been discovered on many sites, in many trappings, I decided to re-evaluate my political and economic leanings in the wake of the recent economic crisis gripping the nation. Have my views grown to differ from a younger me? Has the old adage "a twenty year old without a heart is a conservative, a forty year old without a head is a liberal" begun to tug at my soon to be 29 year old brain?

The short answer, no. I fell just about smack dab where I did when I first took the test 5 years ago. For those who are inquisitive, I fell here:
I was pleased to notice that my views placed me nearly in the same spot on the grid as Mahatma Gandhi; always a shining figure to emulate, in my own opinion (which I guess makes perfect sense...huh). What does it mean? I'll leave that for you to interpret. Are you curious as to where you fall? Do you want to see how you compare to Stalin, Hitler, and Pol Pot? Of course you do (but don't blame me if you find out you're some sort of totalitarian anarchist or some such other anachronistic train wreck). Anyway, click here to give it a go.

Wanna Support a Good Cause? C'mon, You Know You Do.

Our good friend Dave McDermott, currently serving as a wonderful counterweight to the Bush administration for the Peace Corps in Cameroon, alerted us to an upcoming festival aimed at "increas[ing] awareness among the population of Batibo of Peace Corps and its mission; to showcase the culture of the Moghamo people for visiting Peace Corps volunteers; to encourage the use of volunteers as resources for development within the community; and to sensitize and educate the population in the areas of health, agroforestry, business, and HIV/AIDS through animations given by volunteers on topics such as nutrition, soybeans, AIDS prevention, and appropriate technology irrigation." So, in a nutshell, it's something far more noble and valuable to people than what we are all doing this weekend.

I don't know exactly what these "animations" are, but with Dave involved, I'm guessing they're poignant, educational, and possibly acerbically funny. Anyway, there is additional information on the Peace Corps website. 'Why would I look this up?' you're asking yourself? Because you can also donate a few bucks for the cause. You can spare a few bucks to help a good guy along in his mission for the Peace Corps in Africa, right? And besides, how could you not after being entertained by this picture of him (in his pre-public service in Africa days):

Service to country...Dave McDermott, we salute you.

The Rockometer (Or, The Hideously Ill-Conceived Disgrace on the Lake)

And so it has come to my attention, courtesy of the weekly e-newsletter from Cool Cleveland, the newest and most brazenly obscene monument to blind consumerism and lack of spirit for the common good: The Rockometer. This monstrosity looks like a cross between a second-rate Atlantic City casino and the MySpace page of a 15 year old. Doubt me? See below:

What is it, you ask? Well, according to Christopher Axelrod, the Bratenahl native and creative mind behind the project, it will be:

"A rockometer is a retro measuring devise or pulse meter, which indicates the “spirit” or civic “heartbeat” of the City of Cleveland. The actual meter, situated at the crown of the façade on The Rockometer building will be enhanced by three, jumbo outdoor video screens directly underneath, which will indicate a visual explanation as to why the meter is pointing to low, medium or high (i.e. The Cleveland Browns won a game on Sunday giving the meter a high rating). This “social seismograph” will never be utilized as a commercial or advertising element, and all programming of content will be created in- house by the staff marketing team."
(Source: www.therockometer.com: note, there's a very good reason that until now, that domain name was not taken).

So, not only will this thing top out at -14 on the "pulse meter" during the first week in February, further inciting depression from the local population already deficient in sunlight and up to their waists in dirty snow, but it will also provide an explanation; as in, 'well, we're poor, cold, and unhappy with our jobs (or lack thereof)'.

But oh, it gets better.

"When you hear the popular phrase “Party like a rock star” in the national media, one tends to think of tony destinations, glittering venues, and dazzling celebrations. All of these perceptions will apply to Cleveland when The Rockometer building is completed, creating the largest and most elaborate 2,000 seat banquet, special events and party center east of Las Vegas."

So, just as Cleveland (might) finally get the long promised (and possibly not worth it) brand new convention center, this schmuck is promoting the exact same thing, only taking up what should be public access lakefront space and turning it into a carnival sideshow.

Just in case you missed it the first time:

The Numbers Don't Lie

Okay, so back to politics because I'm helpless against its insatiable pull. I took this from the New York Times site today because I'm sick of rhetoric and political grandstanding from both sides, and there's nothing like some honest to god data to get the real picture. What it shows is a pretty remarkable gap between the growth of family incomes year to year, during both Republican and Democratic presidencies. Across the board, and not surprisingly, among the bottom 40% of the population, Democratic presidents have, if not sustained or engendered, witnessed considerably greater economic growth at the core family level over the past 60 years.

I won't speculate deeper on the variables inherent in this sort of equation (social, political, economic, military, etc.) as this post would extend indefinitely, but as a nugget of real, hard information in a sea of claims and allegations, it's as good as gold.

Filler

Okay, I'm not going to get directly involved in the brouhaha that is THE SARAH PALIN CONTROVERSY!!!!!!!! I just want to point out this little nugget from former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich, available here on his blog, under "Vetting".

I don't even really want this blog to be about politics (too much), so I'll follow that tidbit with, as someone once said, something totally different....

For those attending on the 27th, here is a picture of the exterior of Asterisk, so that you aren't wearily crawling through Tremont looking in vain for anything that might resemble a typical art gallery:

Also, in case you were wondering about the place, all the information you are seeking can be found here. Happy hunting...

Stella!!!!

The bundle of joy has arrived! After nearly a day and a half of labor, my favorite (and it should be said, only) niece Stella made her grand appearance on the world stage this morning at 12:21 AM. This makes her an official lucky baby (if you believe in Chinese tradition, mysticism, voodoo economics or Bigfoot) having been born on 8/8/08. Congratulations to Zach and Whit, and to the newly minted grandparents as well! We were, as you might imagine, extremely happy to meet her...

No Puede Ser! Over already?

It was remarkable to me how ridiculously fast my time in Peru with Katie went. By the time last Monday evening rolled around and I had to re-pack my bags for the long trip North, I would have sworn I'd been there for three days, not nine. But, such is life.

Some highlights of the trip included, but were not limited to:

1. The hot springs in the Colca Valley: With the outside air temperature hovering around 40 degrees it made for a refreshing entry and exit... Also, our hotel was (not surprisingly) lacking in hot water, and heat for the rooms for that matter. I looked around for vents to signal some sort of conduction, but found none. I then considered calling the front desk to see if they could start a fire or something, then realized we had no phone. I will say that one thing they are in plentiful supply of in Andean hotels are alpaca blankets, and for good reason.

2. Incan Terraces: On our trip to Colca, these amazing historical remnants (still utilized by farmers 1200 years later) originally constructed to maximize agriculturally the water coming down the mountain, appeared below us early one morning. I must say that the picture does not do the scene any real justice...


3. The food was excellent, including the chicken, which tasted better than any chicken I've ever eaten previously in the United States. Also, they had gelato, specifically straciatella, which is like my kryptonite.

4. Arequipena beer: believe it or not, a lager I like.


5. The city of Arequipa, though only a landing pad for me as we hopped back and forth across Peru, actually started to feel like 'home'. There's nothing like getting to know the feel of a foreign place, it's rhythms, the streets, and the people. The Paz family were wonderful hosts and the view from Katie's balcony looking up on Mount Misti is one that I'll remember for a long time to come.

Oh, and the previous entry was no fluke, they drive like bats out of hell there. No stop signs, no traffic lights, just terrified gringos and constant horns.

The Road to Mollendo

I was startled awake by a sudden sharp jostle as the bus we were riding in careened around a hairpin turn high in the Andes. We were on our way to Mollendo, on the Pacific coast, but I had doubts about survival, much less our arrival. The driver, a calm looking middle aged man, seemed not to register any sort of stark terror of; A. crashing through a guard rail and falling thousands of feet to a fiery crash, or B. slamming into the giant fuel tanker chugging directly towards us. I found it strangely but painfully ironic that the book I had been reading and which was sitting on my lap was entitled 'When You Are Engulfed In Flames'. As both vehicles leaned on their horns, my pulse began to beat outside of my chest and Katie's eyes looked like dinner plates. At seemingly the last possible moment, each driver conceded the other the 6 inches necessary for survival and we rocketed past, safe until the next blind turn at 80 kilometers per hour in a four ton aluminum can.



Needless to say I was thankful when we reached our final destination, Mollendo. It being winter in the Southern hemisphere, the beaches were deserted and a cool breeze necessitated jackets. The sky was gray, but the ocean looked ever imposing and beautiful. We were kindly granted the use of a friend's beach house, which sat on a 90 acre farm just outside town. It was quite the adventure as we walked to the beach, only to be foiled by irrigation ditches, native Peruvian (who must have been utterly confused by our appearance) sheep land, and the city airstrip, surrounded by barbed wire. We did eventually make our way onto the soft sand, and Katie dipped her feet in the frigid water, only to slammed by a rogue wave that wet most of her backside and popped her flip flop.

This is just a taste of all the adventures we're having, so stay tuned because there's much more to come...

Back in Time (sung like Huey Lewis)

For those of you who saw the picture above and immediately remembered being a hot, exhausted, sweaty mess in a dingy club about a decade ago, then you'll enjoy this. If you're not among that happy few, feel free to reminisce about your own favorite bands from high school.

That's right, Goldfinger, with fellow "pop-punks" (I absolutely detest that moniker, by the way) Less Than Jake will descend upon the Cleve this very evening. I had considered skipping it in favor of doing some packing for my upcoming trip and finalizing a grant proposal. However, when I informed Mr. Paul about the show at House of Blues, he snapped into action like he hadn't just been punched in the face the night before (which ironically, he had). Off to the show we go...

Expect a review and some terrifying self-realizations soon...

Escape From Whiskey Island...

Which, let me tell you right now, isn't as intoxicating or exciting as it seems. But I'm putting the cart before the drunken horse. On Sunday, lacking any real substantive responsibilities (course work, yard work, house work...you get the idea) I decided to take advantage of the high blue skies and bike over to Whiskey Island. It's actually an isthmus, but no need to nitpick.

I'd been there after a marathon ultimate frisbee game at nearby Edgewater Park last summer, but wanted to come back and explore a bit. So, I hopped on my (increasingly rickety) bike, popped in my ear buds and away I went. Twenty minutes later I was standing outside the old Coast Guard Station on a pier about 100 yards from the mouth of the Cuyahoga.


I must say, it's strange being in that rustic and natural environment, then turning around and seeing the Sunday brunch crowd at Shooters... Another interesting observation that may not interest anyone: of the two dozen people fishing on the pier, I'm absolutely positive I was the only one speaking English. Weird...

Anyway, as I sat there on the pier and read the PD, I felt a breeze pick up and heard a faint rumble in the distance. This should have been my first clue. But, instead of packing it up and heading home, I decided to opt for a beer at the Sunset Grille, the one and only watering hole in this urban park escape. That's when the rains came. I, along with an assortment of Cleveland city dwellers, small boat owners, and the occasional rich yuppie sailor (who wanted to escape Whiskey Island about 10 times as much as I did) all made the best of the rain; drank our summer drinks, listened to the summer songs, and (they) ate their greasy(-iest) summer food (I've ever seen in my life). Make a note to bring a picnic lunch, FYI.

I swear it's not as rough as it looks

One hour, then another passed, with no sign of relief. So, having finished my newspaper (and another beer), I opted for a meteorological opinion from Jordan (he's a remarkably astute radar observer). He indicated that in about 14 minutes I might have enough daylight to peddle like I've never peddled before and make it home.

He was right; I did make it home just as the next round of raindrops began pelting the roof, but in hindsight I'm not sure what I was waiting for exactly, because the water kicking from both wheels was like rain, only coming up, and very very muddy. you win this round Mother Nature...lesson learned.

A Feast at Light Bistro and Katie's Big Bon Voyage

After a thoroughly enjoyable going away party on Friday evening, replete with Swedish meatballs, good friends and far more alchohol than is recommended by the Surgeon General, Katie and I enjoyed a leisurely Saturday, preparing for her big adventure to Peru. In anticipation of this, I made a reservation at Ohio City's Light Bistro, one of the tastiest spots in Ohio City to celebrate her opportunity and enjoy some seriously good eats.

We sat at a tiny two top in betwixt a weird couple and some co-workers who had apparently been waiting all year to vent.

After our initial choice of Grilled Ostrich in an Asian Glaze was deemed unavailable by our flighty and entirely distracted waitress, we opted for a dinner of tapas, five in all. What ensued can only be described as one of the most gastronomically satisfying meals (not prepared by my Mom or Grandma) in my life. What, perchance, made it so delectably delicious? You can explore the menu yourself online, but I must say it's far tastier in person. Some highlights included the Cuba Libre Braised Pork Belly, a small cut of the most melt in your mouth meat you will ever enjoy (have it before you die for sure), the bacon-cured foie gras, absolutely indulgent, and the udon noodles in miso dashi, which actually were an accompaniment to the slightly less than stellar BBQ Moullard Duck Breast.

Sunday was departure day. Katie loaded up her 98 pounds of checked luggage (with two pounds to spare), we made sure Visa and Passport were firmly in hand, said goodbye to The Mayor and headed to Hopkins. I'm happy to report that she is firmly rooted on the Andean plain as we speak, participating in some alpaca related activity and gazing out on Mount Misti.

I've got to admit, it beats the Mittal Steel Plant hands down...

Only a few short weeks and I will be winging my way to Arequipa, which I'm sure will surprise some of you to know that it looks not like this:

but like this:

If you haven't watched the trailer, you probably should. I can hardly wait for the maelstrom and carnage to be meted out on Independence Day when this shit hits the fan... I'll be there, will you?

10 Cent Beer Night Remembered...

Today, June 4th, 2008 marks the 34th anniversary of the ill-conceived but entirely entertaining debacle that was '10 Cent Beer Night' at Cleveland Municipal Stadium (and Whitney's birthday of course!). There's an extremely entertaining article from ESPN.com linked here, replete with your run of the mill Cleveland bashing, Cleveland weather bashing, Indians bashing, and finally, and thankfully, some head bashing. For instance, in this gem, Joe Tait (then a Tribe broadcaster with Herb Score), reports on the utter chaos that is breaking out in the midst of the ninth inning:

The fact that Hargrove would later come back to play and manage the Indians, and in fact now make his home in Northern Ohio, says something about our collective ability to take a punch. Here's three interesting things I didn't know before I read the article:

1. They ran out of beer quite early in the game, so they encouraged fans to head to the area beyond the outfield wall and fill up directly from the Stroh's trucks that were pulling up. Brilliant...
2. Apparently it was totally acceptable (at least to some degree) to bring fireworks and pot to a Tribe game in the seventies.
3. The umpiring Crew Chief, in an interview after the game said, and I quote; "When uncontrolled beasts are out there, you gotta do something. I saw two guys with knives, and I got hit with a chair!"

That's the spirit, Cleveland...

Start Saving Now...

The 'heads are abuzz of late (though what else is new), perpetuating or decrying the (latest) rumor of a Phish comeback. The impetus was a Rolling Stone interview with Trey on May 21st, in which he essentially said he would be willing to sacrifice a testicle to play with Phish again.

Halloween at MSG and/or a spring '09 run on the East Coast seem to be the most heated of the (totally void of evidence) rumors. Of course the most intriguing is the idea that the foursome will provide a sort of second-coming appearance at Rothbury in early July. With Mike, Trey, and Jon all slated to play (separately), only Page is left out of the equation. But, as we've witnessed, painfully, at Bonnaroo in more years than one, this variable is not an easy one to guarantee.

Whether or not this is just another in a long line of empty statements, phans are vocal, to say the least. On message boards and comment postings around the internet, there are your usual malcontents, ruing the idea of a reunion; 'Oh the humanity; they'll never be able to summit the musical peaks of greatness I witnessed, personally, back in '94'... as well as the 'in the know' set, of which an excellent example is posted below:
My girlfriend's sister's best friend's dog's veterinarian said that she heard from.... you get the idea. Anyway, thanks to C-Note for the heads up, and even if it comes to nothing, we're no worse off than we are now...

Shoreway Cinema

Great news for those on Cleveland's West Side; ground was recently broken on the new Capitol Theater in the Detroit-Shoreway Neighborhood (DSN). It will feature largely independent films and serve beer (and I ain't talkin' about no paper cup, I'm talkin bout an actual glass of beer). Now, instead of the 30 minute drive to Cedar Lee, we'll have a 5 minute jaunt, or a 15 minute bike ride!

In actuality, the theater has been standing at the West 65th and Detroit intersection since 1921, but has been vacant for the past 20 some odd years. Here is the typically over-glamorized artist rendition of how the site will look in April of 2009:
The rehabilitation is the latest in a string of projects that is giving significant traction to the argument that DSN is the new Tremont (or Coventry, or Ohio City...). With the Battery Park development energizing the area, a number of businesses have opened, most notably Phoenix Coffee, Luxe and Stone Mad, the latter two being beautiful restaurants.

Stone Mad

Stone Mad was particularly spectacular, with miles of mahogany and intricate stone masonry throughout...plus the indoor bocce court of course. The bar area is almost entirely reminiscent of a European pub, with the exceptions being the lack of mismatched furniture, the odd, sometimes centuries old drinking related knick-knacks and advertising, and the glassware. The dining room in back follows a more New York Italian cafe theme, to great effect. Outside, tons upon tons of stone make up the patio, seats, tables and large central fireplace that draws visitors like moths. Snag a spot here on a chilly night and you could auction it to the highest bidder on your exit.

The long awaited opening was not announced, per se, but rather passed along via word of mouth. Katie and I made it in about a week and a half later and the place was packed to the rafters with yuppies young and old, starry eyed neighborhood locals, Tribe game returnees and various curiosity seekers (of which we labeled ourselves).

I can't vouch for the food (yet), but it's on the short list of "places to eat as soon as humanly possible". I can say that if the menu is half as impressive as the place itself, a glowing review is surely soon to follow.

A Shift in the Winds?

Now this is refreshing; an oil magnate is preparing to build the biggest wind farm in the world. Even better, it's in Texas. T. Boone Pickens, Jr. (perhaps the greatest "oil man" name in the history of the world) has purchased 600 wind turbines from General Electric and plans to install them on tracts of land throughout the Lone Star State.


Wouldn't you love to see a row of those beauties cutting a swath through Bush's ranch in Crawford? But I digress...

This is only the first part of his grand scheme; one that will eventually see 1800 more turbines installed, generating 4,000 (!) megawatts of power; clean, renewable, efficient, self-reliant power. This is enough to generate electricity for over 1.3 million homes.

Though downplayed thus far in the media, I see this as a tremendous sea change in the thinking of the American 'energy elite'. They recognize the problems, costs and risks associated with the old ways and are innovating and thinking about new and emerging technologies.

It makes one wonder about the leadership (and cognitive) capabilities of our own State's leaders, who recently came to an agreement which allowed American Electric Power to construct a "clean coal" (an oxymoron if there ever was one) plant in Meigs County. Oh, and also to charge Ohio taxpayers $24 million in start-up costs. I don't know about you, but I for one am appalled at the prospect of investing my own money in an outdated, outmoded and environmentally dangerous energy supply, when such great strides are being taken in...Texas of all places!?!

Brewery Tour On Tap

The Time Has Come...

After many high level discussions, thousands of hours of research, consultations, and untold sleepless afternoons, the blueprint or shall I say, brewprint, is ready for public consumption...
As it stands, the plan is a framework, with details, such as transportation, dates, etc. yet to be finalized. The idea however, is simple:

1. Gather large group of friends and family
2. Rent vehicle
3. Travel around midwest and visit breweries
4. Have good time

So, if you're interested in the below listed potentiality, let me know!

Itinerary

Day 1: The Departure
Gather in Cleveland at Great Lakes Brewing Co. to begin mission. Enjoy lunch and fabulous beer(s) - I humbly suggest the Blackout Stout and the Commodore Perry IPA. Board luxurious accommodations (perhaps slightly exaggerated) and head west, towards Michigan. Specifically, Ann Arbor, Michigan (AKA: the belly of the beast). Trust me, I know what I'm doing... Enjoy dinner and a tour of the Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales Brewery.

Celebrate, socialize, at some point check into a hotel, and sleep.

Day Two: Go West(er)!
Arise at a reasonable hour, board our transportation vessel and rocket towards Kalamazoo! Visit the one, the only, Bell's Brewing Co.

Enjoy their inventory of fantastic beers with lunch in the Eccentric Cafe. Journey out to the Beer Garden to take in the sheer marvelousness of the day. Re-board bus, van, RV or clown car.

On to Muncie! The home of Three Floyd's Brewing, one of the most highly respected and buzzed about (and on I suppose) breweries in the US.

Their Dark Lord Day (it's not as menacing or satanic as it sounds) brings people from all over the country to buy one of the most limited beers in the country. Plus, their beer is no longer available in Ohio, and it's been too long since I've enjoyed an Alpha King (pictured above; again, not as menacing as it looks).

At this point, we will have visited two of the greatest breweries in the United States in one day, and we will be...let's say... ready to let loose a bit.

What better location to let loose than only 3o minutes up the interstate in Chicago!

Hit the spots around the Windy City during the evening, then wake up refreshed (or at the very least just wake up) ready for....

Day Three: Gooses and Cubbies and Foodies, Oh My!
A terrible name for what promises to be a much better day. I figure that if we hit it right, we could tour and lunch at Goose Island Brewery

then head over to Wrigley and catch a Cubs game at the magnificent Wrigley Field! (Screw the White Sox, in my opinion, unless they're playing the Tribe.)

Day Four: The Journey Home
With our whirlwind weekend drawing to a close, we'll hit the road back to the CLE with visions of HopSlam dancing in our heads. I've debated the possibility of turning this into a five day event with two days in Chicago, but five days is a REALLY long weekend, and quite frankly I'm not sure we'd all make it. But I am up for the challenge...