Opera Attire

Dear George,

We had tickets for the opera at Music Hall last Saturday night.  We were running late, and I asked Katja if she could pick out some clothes for me.  I always ask her that because she has a much better sense of these things.  This time she chose a pair of tan slacks, a dark blue short-sleeved linen shirt, and a cream-colored sports jacket.  It looked fine to me.  I started putting the shirt on, but I had a lot of trouble.  The buttons and the buttonholes were small, it took a lot of effort to get each button fastened, and, besides that, the buttons were on the wrong side of the shirt.  All in all, it felt very awkward.  Suddenly it dawned on me that this might not even be a man’s shirt.  I asked Katja, but she said that was silly.  She said she’d bought the shirt in the men’s department, and it had been in my closet for a long time.  I continued struggling with the buttons.  After several minutes I finally finished the last button.  But then I discovered that it wasn’t even a short-sleeved shirt.  The sleeves extended all the way down to the middle of my forearms, ending halfway between the wrist and the elbow, and each sleeve had a large slit in it.  “This isn’t a man’s shirt.”   I protested.  “It’s a woman’s blouse.”   “No it’s not,” Katja said, “this is the new style that men are wearing.”   Just to prove it to me, she had me bend over so she could check the label.  Much to her surprise, the label was for a women’s clothing manufacturer.  Katja was amazed.  She wondered if Macy’s had mistakenly stocked a woman’s blouse among its men’s shirts.  By then we were ten minutes past our planned departure time, and I was getting nervous about whether we would make it to the opera at all.  Since my sport jacket would cover up the blouse’s sleeves, I decided to go with what I was wearing rather than having to unbutton it and start all over.

We got to Music Hall in the nick of time.  The auditorium was packed, and the temperature was on the warm side.  By the middle of the first act I was feeling unpleasantly hot, and I decided I’d have to take my jacket off.  If my nearby seatmates thought that I looked strange in my wife’s blouse, that’s just how it would be.  At the intermission I put my sports jacket back on, and we went out to the lobby for a glass of wine.  I noticed a large poster that I hadn’t seen when we came in.  It announced that tonight was gay pride night at the opera.  That was a funny coincidence.  Actually, if I had to wear some of Katja’s clothes to the opera, this was probably a good night to do it.  At least I was in the midst of a crowd that would be receptive to gender diversity.

Love,

Dave

G-mail Comments

-Jennifer M (7-21):  Great story.  :-)

-Donna D (7-17):  BRAVO, david. well done :)  donna

East Fork Report

East Fork Lake

Dear George,

Duffy and I are just back from a three-day camping trip to East Fork State Park in nearby Clermont County.  East Fork is one of Ohio’s largest state parks – nearly 5,000 acres of land and 2,600 acres of water.  It’s known for good fishing, has 85 miles of trails including some designated solely for horseback riders, and nearly 400 campsites.  Here are a few photos from our outing.  

There aren’t that many people camping on weekdays, and I got my first choice of sites.  In my opinion, East Fork has the best campsites in the region – many of them set well back from the road and surrounded by groves of maples, oaks, beeches, and hickory.  Our spot had two tables and two fireplaces.  That’s my Gander Mountain 10 x 12’ dome tent in the photo above.  It’s designed to sleep six and was more than enough room for Duffy and myself.  I bought it for $2.50 at the St. Vincent de Paul some years ago, part of a collection of 6 or 7 tents that I accumulated at the time.  Now I’m down to three, and this one is my current favorite.  

Here’s all my camping gear, packed in the rear of our SUV.  As I Boy Scout I learned to be extremely parsimonious in packing gear – bringing only enough to fit in a boy-sized knapsack.  Now my standards have flip-flopped, i.e., I only bring enough to fit in a single SUV.   

Duffy came with me while Mike stayed at home with Katja.  Duffy is a perfect companion – loyal and true, eager to do whatever his master decides, ever patient, never quarrelsome, and able to fall asleep in a matter of seconds during down time.  Duffy isn’t as fond of camping as I am though.  I know this because, whenever we walk past the SUV, he heads straight for its door in order to go home.  I think it’s because the forest is unfamiliar and uncertain.  One place Duffy likes a lot is his enclosed playpen.  His favorite is the tent which must seem much like a cave.   

I cooked a lot of delicious meals on this outing.  This one’s called “Cheeseburger Breakfast.”  You fry a couple of ground chuck patties and cut them up in bite-size pieces.  Then you scramble three eggs, mix in the burger bites, and cover with grated cheese.  As good as Bob Evans.  

One afternoon we set off for a hike on the Fernhill Trail.  The trail is supposed to be a loop, but I got lost, and it soon became unclear where we were going.  At one point the path descended down into a ravine.  There was a bridge of sorts, consisting of an 8-inch wide plank, which crossed over a creek about four feet below.  I worried about whether Duffy could walk across the plank without falling off, but he solved the problem by simply going down and through the creek.  On the other side the hill was extremely steep, almost perpendicular.  I made my way up by using tree roots as footholds, but I didn’t know if Duffy could make it.  However, he clawed and scrambled, and we eventually got to the top.  I followed the trail at hand, and we came out about a half mile away from where we should have been.  As we walked back along the road, a man came out of the forest and asked me which way to the campgrounds.  He said he’d gotten lost on the trail and didn’t know where he was.  I nodded knowingly.  

Night-time was the most relaxing time.  It’s against the rules, but I gather firewood from fallen tree branches on the forest floor.  Sitting and watching the fire burn makes for lots of nostalgia.  I thought about all the campfires I’d experienced over the years – camping out as a kid at Mason Park or Pig Island, fires on the Green Bay shore at friends’ houses, ghost stories and singing “Comin’ Round the Mountain” at YMCA and Boy Scout camps, tenting with Katja on our trip west as young marrieds. 

Duffy and Mike always seem to want to get on my air mattress in the tent, so this time I brought Duffy his own air mattress.  He wasn’t very interested though, and sprawled out on the tent floor most of the time.  I didn’t sleep well and had lots of dreams.  Years ago I would get nervous when I was alone in the woods at night -- thinking of bears or rabid raccoons or robbers or murderers.  Now I don’t seem to be nervous any more.  Possibly I’ve reached an age where being eaten by a bear isn’t that big a deal.  In any case, I was surprised when I got home to read in the paper that the State Police had just captured a wanted murderer who was hiding out in a tent in the woods at East Fork State Park.  Maybe I ought to be more nervous.

Love,

Dave

G-mail Comments

-Gayle C-L (7-14): David

Love the story and what an adventure !!!!.. You're certainly brave aren't you.

Especially since you finally faced you fears regarding murderers and bears and wolves etc eating you up and beating you up in the woods..  Than go home and come to find, the police found a murderer in the exact woods where you had just spent 3 fun filled relaxing, lets not forget Fearless days.. Ok..  I suppose somebody was on your side..  You got to have your fun and get home safe and sound.. :) ….  Give my love to all.... G  :)

-Jennifer M (7-13):  Hi Dave,  I read your blog about going camping. I'm glad you got out again and were able to bring Duffy. I laughed at your joke about how many things you bring, including in a mattress for an ungrateful Duffy. :-)

-Donna D (7-13): this is great!  two questions:  really, a murderer????    and, is that your underwear in the picture of Duffy in the tent?  

donna

Northside Fourth

Dear George,

The Fourth of July is definitely the best holiday of the year for fireworks and parades.  We didn’t go to the fireworks this year, but I did finally get to the Northside parade.  Northside is the neighborhood just northwest of Clifton.  Lots of artists and writers, a big LGBT community, good restaurants and bars, and an overall hippy ambience.  As you might expect, the Northside parade has a local, quirky flavor.  There are dogs and horses, motorcyclists, unicyclists, floats advertising local businesses, beauty queens, antique automobiles, numerous politicians – mostly Democrats (I got to shake hands with gubernatorial candidate Ed Fitzgerald), the Lawnchair Ladies Brigade, 5 or 6 marching bands plus 5 or 6 dance teams, social movement groups, and lots of enthusiastic kids.The parade route ran along Hamilton Ave. for roughly 20 blocks, and I would guess that there were 3 or 4 thousand spectators.  The Northside parade first began in 1854 when the women and children rode in boats along the Miami and Erie Canal while the men marched alongside them on the banks.  Today it’s the largest parade in the Cincinnati metro area and precedes the Rock ‘N Roll Carnival in Northside’s Hoffner Park.  Here’s what just some of it looked like.

Love,

Dave

    

On the Trails at Miami Whitewater Forest

Dear George,

I finally got out for my first camping trip of the season, spending two nights and three days at Miami Whitewater Forest.  Miami Whitewater has great hiking trails -- definitely a favorite for sheepdog outings.  I'd say the forest is enjoying its summer peak.   These pics are from the Timberlakes Trail, the Oak Leaf Trail, and the Badlands Trail.

Love,

Dave

G-mail Comments

-Jennifer M (6-28):  Great photos!