OUR AMAZING HOUSEHOLD WILDLIFE.

 Dear George, 

My childhood home was out in the country, surrounded by forests and with only two or three other houses within a mile. Consequently we had lots of wildlife encounters, e.g., deer, porcupines, skunks, squirrels, etc. What is surprising to me is that we now live on a busy street at the center of a major midwestern city, and I have nearly as many wildlife experiences on our small urban property as I did as a kid in the country. Here are some curious facts about some of our wildlife denizens. 

OPOSSUMS. The opossums lived under our back porch for years, and we’d see them now and then when we came home at night. They moved somewhere else when we had our porch reconstructed. Opossums date back 70 million years, making them one of the oldest mammal families. Their name is derived from the Powhatan language, meaning “white dog or dog-like beast”. Females give birth to as many as 20 young, but only 13 can attach to a teat and survive. The babies are called joeys. When threatened, opossums will “play possum”, mimicking the appearance of a sick or dead animal and smelling bad. Opossums can eat thousands of ticks every season, and they are helpful to have in one’s yard.  

SQUIRRELS. The squirrels are faithful residents of our front yard because of our bountiful oak tree and its many acorns. They’ve built their nest of oak leaves on the window ledge outside our TV room. We watch them through the window while they seen to be watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. The oldest squirrel fossil dates back about 40 million years. The squirrels’ name comes from the Ancient Greek word skiouros which means “shade” and “tail”. Squirrels are physical marvels. They can jump up to five feet vertically and eight feet between trees. Squirrels can run headfirst down tree trunks by rotating their hind ankles 180 degrees to grip the three bark. Their bushy tails act as parachutes, allowing them to survive falls as high as 100 feet. At top speed they can run twenty miles an hour. Squirrels are also clever little creatures. If they think another squirrel is watching, they pretend to bury a nut by digging a hole and then covering it up. Gray squirrels bury up to 10,000 nuts each fall. Unfortunately they forget where they bury up to 75% of their hidden nuts which has the desirable unintended consequence of planting new trees. 

EUROPEAN WALL LIZARDS. I see our European wall lizards on our patio and driveway every time I leave or enter the house during warm summer months. Their family originated some 10 to 20 million years ago. The wall lizard was introduced to the United States when a 12-year-old boy from the Lazarus family smuggled 10 of them from a family vacation in northern Italy and released them near their East Walnut Hills home in Cincinnati. The wall lizard has expanded throughout Cincinnati and into parts of Northern Kentucky and southeastern Indiana. They are fast moving and good climbers. Wall lizards have a “third eye” on top of their head that helps detect predators from above. If a predator grabs its tail, the wall lizard sheds it in order to escape and grows a new tail later. Wall lizards eat garden insects spiders, bees, snails, small berries, and flower petals. They spend their days foraging and basking in the sun. When normal food sources are scarce, wall lizards have been known to eat their compatriots. 

RABBITS. Every now and then I see a little cottontail rabbit near the tall grasses in our front yard garden. We owned rabbits for many years, and, because I regularly brought them out to an enclosure in our side yard, I was known for a while as the “Clifton rabbit man.” The rabbit family emerged about 53 to 55 million years ago, shortly after the extinction of the dinosaurs. In the fourteenth century the word “rabbit” was originally “rabet”, meaning the young of the species. Rabbits’ teeth grow up to five inches a year and are worn down by chewing grass and hay. A rabbit’s eyes are positioned on the sides of its head, allowing it to see behind them without turning. Also they can turn their ears almost 270 degrees which allows them to pinpoint the exact location of a sound. They have excellent hearing and can hear sounds up to two miles away. Rabbits can jump 3 feet in the air and for a horizontal distance of 10 feet. They can also run up to 30 miles per hour, faster than Usain Bolt. Intelligent creatures, domestic rabbits can recognize their names and come when called. When a rabbit is extremely happy, it performs an athletic leap called a binky, twisting their body and kicking their feet in the air. 

RACCOONS. Raccoons are the most interesting of all of our wildlife residents. A family lived in our attic for years. We’d hear them rummaging about in the night, but I didn’t pay much attention until I discovered that they had eaten the insulation in our heating/cooling system. The animal control people successfully removed them, but we still get solo visitors on our patio at night. The first known members of the raccoon family lived in Europe about 25 million years ago. Fossil evidence indicates a close relationship between raccoons and bears. The name “raccoon” comes from the Powhatan term that means”animal that scratches with its hands,” stemming from the animal’s observed habits of “washing” its food. Raccoons can weigh up to 57 pounds, though most adults are between 11 and 26 pounds. Touch is the raccoon’s most important sense, and they can hear the quiet noises produced by earthworms underground. Raccoons are known as very intelligent animals. Early research found that they were able to open complex locks in fewer than 10 tries, apparently understanding the abstract principles of locking mechanisms. In their search for food, they can break into all but the most secure waste bins. Even inexperienced raccoons are capable of unscrewing jars, uncorking bottles, and opening door knobs. Due to their adaptability, raccoons have successfully used urban areas as a habitat. The first U.S. sighting of raccoons in an urban area was made in a suburb of Cincinnati in the 1920s. 

That’s my story. I’m very impressed by our animal neighbors who possess various sensory and physical abilities that surpass those of humans. The more I learn, the more I appreciate their presence in our lives. 

Love, 

Dave

OFF TO THE COUNTY FAIR

 

Dear George, 

The other day Katja and I went to the county fair in nearby Lebanon, Ohio.  I try to go to at least one fair every summer.  It takes me back to my Menominee youth when fairs and carnivals were highlights of the summer season.  Still today they never fail to be a treat.   

The lady at the admission gate pointed us to the animal barns. The first was the sheep barn, a huge structure filled to capacity with  8 foot by 8 foot cages holding newly shorn sheep.  Most had been raised by teenage 4-H club members, some of whom were hanging around in umbrella chairs, tinkering with their cell phones.  About half the sheep were clothed in brightly colored protective jackets — blue, yellow, red, violet, even a Florida beach scene.  The sheep were curious as we passed their cages and raised their heads or even jumped up and put their front legs on the railing.  At first I was afraid of getting nipped, but the sheep were agreeable to be petted on their heads and necks.  They seemed like very calm, gentle animals.  Despite their being for sale, they had no idea that the next step was the slaughterhouse.  Katja and I are fond of roasted lamb, but we couldn’t imagine eating one of these darlings.  

The goat barn was next door.  Goats and shorn sheep look pretty similar, and the goats had the same temperament — calm, cool.  They too appreciate being petted.  The male goats had the sharp tips of their horns cut off, perhaps to avoid goring one another.  However, we didn’t see any  instances of aggression.  When the goats lay down to sleep, they usually snuggled up against one another.  I was reminded that we urban-dwellers have zero contact with these farm animals in our daily lives.  

There were two poultry buildings, both filled with chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese.  Such a variety.  The ducks were the noisiest of the group; the turkeys, the most majestic.  The birds were not as friendly as the animals, and they seemed bored in their little cages, many of them sound asleep.   

The rabbit barn was our favorite destination.  We owned a succession of rabbits in the 70’s and 80’s, and we remain enthralled.  While the sheep and goats all look alike, rabbits come in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes.  We stopped to check out every one of the several hundred on display.  My favorites were the Flemish Giants who were larger than our schnauzer. 

Having finished the animal buildings, we stopped by the exhibition hall which displayed creations by county residents.   Floral arrangements, fruits and vegetables, bales of straw, baked goods, art work, wood-working, photography, sewing and knitting, and probably other stuff I’ve forgotten.  Lots of ribbons awarded.  All of the products were done by amateurs, and it was pleasing to think of the pride they probably felt in being shown at the county fair.  

The food area had two long rows of brightly decorated booths which offered all the standard varieties of county fair food — cheeseburgers, pizza, Italian sausage, Philly steak sandwiches, bloomin’ onions, softserve sundaes, etc.  All of it tasty, unhealthy, and over-priced.  Katja bought a pretzel for five dollars and paid nine dollars for a large pina colada lemonade and its refill.  I just sampled a bit of her food and drink.  

We sat down in the entertainment tent to eat.  I expected to see a country western band, but instead the entertainment consisted of audience members doing karaoke, singing along to loud recorded music.  Most of the singers were pairs of teenage girls, sometimes accompanied by younger brothers who were trying to imitate Michael Jackson dance steps.  The performances weren’t up to American Idol standards, but they generated applause from an appreciative audience.

The fair was fairly empty when we arrived at 2:30 but the crowd increased as the afternoon went on.  Parents with small kids made up much of the population, followed by teenagers who were on their own in pairs or small groups.  I was struck by the number of obese people, but probably no more than in many other public settings.  About 99% of the fairgoers were white.  Warren County voted heavily for Trump in 2024, but I didn’t see any MAGA hats.  I tried to see if I could identify people who looked like Trump voters, but everybody just looked like normal friendly people.  Probably a good reminder about stereotyping.  

Our last stop was the Midway.  All the games and rides, the thrills, the excitement.  We watched the little kids with their parents on the carousel.  Then an eight-year-old boy rode a mechanical bull which bounced around until it finally tossed him onto the inflatable mat.  Though all the rides were free, we skipped most of them until we came to the ferris wheel, the mildest of the options.  Soon we were up in the sky at the top of the eighty-foot wheel, looking for miles in every direction.  The ferris wheel went round and round for six revolutions.  I worried about getting seasick as our gondola  was swinging back and forth, but I toughed it out.  We got off and made our way to the parking lot.  Another successful county fair adventure. 

Love,

Dave 

 

2023: OUR NEW YEAR'S NEWSLETTER

 
Dear George, 

It’s time once again to wrap up another year. I’d say 2023 has to be an outstanding year because, to our happy surprise, we’re still hanging in there. We got an e-mail from the Cincinnati Art Museum which listed the year’s highlights month by month. The seemed a good way to organize stuff so I did the same for Katja and myself. Here is our 2023 story. 

Love, 

Dave 

JANUARY. Katja came down with Covid but recovered in time to begin our winter quarter OLLI courses. Katja did literature and history; David, poetry writing. We bought a giant TV for the den and watched the Bengals lose to the Chiefs in the AFC Championship game. 

FEBRUARY. We enjoyed Greek and Roman Mythology at OLLI and “Beyond Bollywood” at the Art Museum. At my annual wellness exam the doctor said I am “85 young,” and he actually agreed to give me an Rx for 24 Lorazepam to help sleep. 

MARCH. We celebrated the arrival of spring with fish dinners at Bonefish Grill, the Oakley Fish Market, and Red Lobster. We got the very sad news that our daughter-in-law K’s mom Linda died. 

APRIL. I was the only student at my Zumba class for the third week in a row and decided it was time to discontinue. Katja loved King Charles’ coronation on TV, and we enjoyed Rachmaninoff and Shoshtakovich at the Symphony. The cardiologist said I was doing fine and added, “Don’t screw it up.”

    

MAY. I did terribly on my first hearing test in several years but got some new hearing aids which did help a lot. J sent flowers for Mother’s day and urged me to get a Covid test (which turned out positive, much to my surprise). Because of Covid, we cancelled our flight to New Orleans to attend our grandkids’ graduation. 

JUNE. The visiting nurse tested me for dementia and I remembered all three words perfectly (chair, banana, sunrise). We watched a lot of French Open tennis, including finals victories by Swiatek and Djokovic. We went to East Lansing for Linda’s memorial service and hung out with our sweet family. Having experienced severe jaw pain, Katja had oral surgery to extract an under-the-gum wisdom tooth. 

JULY. Lots of Wimbledon this month. My dentist moved her office from next door to our house to a half mile away, good for walking and exercise. I started exploring Bard, Google’s artificial intelligence chatbox, asking Bard to write poems about this and that (only so-so as a poet). We celebrated my 86th birthday at the Chart House, enjoying the Cincinnati skyline view across the Ohio River. Our son J cancelled his planned trip to Cincinnati because of family sickness. 

AUGUST. On her way from Richmond to Albequerque, our friend Jennifer stopped by for a get-together. The retinal specialist said my left eye was doing o.k., didn’t need surgery. Katja and I celebrated our 63rd anniversary (amazing) at La Bar A Boeuf. 

SEPTEMBER. We were happy that our favorites, Gauff and Djokovic, won their U.S. Open Finals. Pianist Sara Daneshpour was wonderful at Matinee Musicale. We saw an excellent women’s photography show at the Taft Museum. Quarterback Joe Burrow, who missed the preseason with an injury, was rocky in his first few games with the Bengals. 

OCTOBER. The plasterer fixed our living room wall. J came for a visit, and we ate at Skyline Chili twice, did multiple thrift shops, and saw art shows at the Art Museum, the Miller Gallery, and Hebrew Union’s Skirball Museum. Katja had a second oral surgery (the first one was botched), and, because of a paperwork screw-up, our insurance wouldn’t cover anything and we wound up paying a huge amount out of pocket. 

NOVEMBER. Big election victories for the Democrats. After months of terrible pain, the insurance company finally approved Katja’s epidural, and she is a new woman. Joe Burrow injured his wrist and is out for the season. J, K, A, and L flew up from New Orleans for a Thanksgiving visit, and we had a great time. I discovered jazz singer Andrea Motis on YouTube. 

DECEMBER. We celebrated Katja’s birthday at La Bar a Boeuf. J sent beautiful flowers. The furnace guy found that the raccoons had done a lot of damage to our ducts. Backup quarterback Jake Browning led the Bengals to three victories in a row before a Steelers collapse. Ami and Bruce sent Zabar’s delicacies, and David and Susan sent See’s Candy for Christmas. We enjoyed the Charles White exhibition at the Art Museum and made New Year’s dinner reservations at La Bar a Boeuf to celebrate a very good year.

Love,

Dave 

GROWING UP IN CLIFTON: A PHOTO TOUR BY J.L.

Dear George, 

Our son J flew up from New Orleans for a long weekend last month, and we had a great time. One of the afternoons he and I walked around our Clifton neighborhood, and J recounted his memories into his cell phone. Here is what he had to say. 

Love, Dave 

J.L.:  My dad and I are doing a project where we talk about childhood experiences in Clifton.  So I am going to document all these spots.  

So here we are at Skyline Chili on Ludlow.  Skyline, for all people born in Cincinnati, is a very special place.  It’s the number one comfort food for Cincinnatians.  When I look at this Skyline, I’ve been here a million times.  I used to come here after tennis matches.  We’d sometimes come here for dinner.  It’s right across the street from Adrian the Florist where I always get flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day.  It’s right across from the little fountain at Burnet Woods which really wasn’t there when I was a kid. 

Burnet Woods has a small hill.  Walking down or sliding down in the winter and then walking through that path to the open area with the picnic tables, the natural history museum, and the lake.  

We’re approaching the house that has my first memories at on Clifton Avenue.  3507 Clifton Avenue.  And, my bedroom was in the back of the house and there was a door that went to the back yard at the driveway where I was always a little bit scared that someone could enter the house from the back right into my room.  So that was a little scary.  I also remember the house had a beautiful painting on the ceiling.  Like cherubs and little babies and angels on the ceiling.  And I also remember that Mom had a room that she wouldn’t let me in.  She had a special room, her office I guess.  And I remember my neighbor, Tom W.  He was my pal.  We would run around in the back yard.  I also remember having my bike stolen there once.  I think I left it in the front yard.  It was stolen very quickly.  Maybe like  the day I got my bike.  Soon after I got my bike.  I also remember learning how to skateboard.  This was at the beginning of the skateboard era.  Those little plastic narrow skateboards.  One time I skated down the driveway and I had to make an incredibly fast turn to escape getting into traffic.   At least it felt very dangerous and fast and unsafe.  And that was my first close call with death.  So lots of fond memories of being in the yard, riding my bicycle, being on the skateboard, getting a ride on the motorcycle with you.  I see now that there’s a big gate in the front.  There was no gate back in the day.  And hanging out with Tom in his yard.  He had a great yard too.  There’s a lot of space back there.  And I remember going to grade school, walking up Clifton Avenue, maybe a quarter of a mile.  A very nice place to grow up.  I was about seven when we left Clifton Avenue.    

So right next door to 3507 is the apartment building which didn’t really mean anything to me until later in life when my grandparents lived here from Philadelphia.  And they stayed there and we would have get-togethers.  Mom would be there all the time, visiting my grandparents.  They had a neighbor here at 310 Bryant who was a Holocaust survivor and who recounted his experience in the Holocaust and that was totally fascinating to me.  He was actually, I believe, at Auschwitz and had some very harrowing stories.  

Across the street from 310 Bryant is Emanuel Church.  This was the entrance to the preschool.  My main memories of Emmanuel were having my finger smashed.  I guess it was Jessica G.  She slammed the door on my finger, and I had to go to the hospital.  I also remember getting bullied by some kid and being traumatized by that.  And, um, that’s pretty much it.  I guess that was a pretty traumatic place, getting physically and emotionally traumatized at Emmanuel Preschool.  

And Annunciation I always felt was a weird place.  I just didn’t understand the origin or the idea of Catholic school.  I always thought growing up that private schools were for people who weren’t smart enough to be at regular public school.  I don’t know where I got that idea.  But I just looked down at kids who went to private school.  Like they were different kids in some way.  I guess I invented that idea.  

I do remember the Unitarian Church over there.  And I do remember going there different times for events or services.  Oh, you know what, there was a day care there during the summer that I went to.  Like a camp.  I feel that I spent some time there, some group activities.   

So now we are approaching Clifton School.  Clifton Elementary School which is now known as the Fairview German Language School.  So it’s a new building, but I think the format is the same.  The parking lot is the same area, and I remember spending a lot of time.  There was a fence over there, and we would hang out by that fence by the parking lot.  And I remember Miss Williams, my teacher.  A very nice teacher, who was sort of firm but loving.  And I remember playing a lot of Four Square.  That was the main sport that we played.  And the main thing I remember about elementary school in this building was passing some test at the end of the year.  I felt some real pressure to do well on this test because if I didn’t score almost like a perfect score I wouldn’t get into the honors program at the next level when I went into seventh grade.  I’m pretty sure that’s the case.  I just remember high stakes.  High stakes as a third-grader.  

Then fourth, fifth, and sixth grade at the big school.  Again I mainly remember the playground, hanging out, a group of boys hanging out in the back.  We called ourselves the Wolves.  We thought we were a gang.  That was exciting.  We played a lot of dodge ball.  We played a lot of kick ball.  A lot of four square, a lot of tinder ball.  

I would do summer camp here at the Rec Center.  We would hang out in that playground area, playing sports.  And I don’t feel that I had any life-altering experiences here.  So looking at the parking lot at the Rec Center — oh, it’s filled.  We used to come and play basketball here, you and me.  That was a happy time.  I had lots of happy feelings here.  

When we moved to Ludlow, I would walk this way to get home, up Middleton.  So I guess around age 8 or 9 you started taking me to Crosley Tower to hit some tennis balls against the wall.  And we would go to Digby where you and Irv Greenberg would place tennis, and occasionally I would hit some balls.  I guess we would go to Crosley Tower to warm up there.  I guess I would come to the tennis court and watch you guys play tennis for one hour or two hours.  And you would take me out to Digby and we’d do drills.  I would sometimes get cranky.  What I really loved about Digby in my memory is that the balls would go out of the court and they would go down this big hill and you and I would go into the forest and scavenge for balls.  We would get tons and tons of balls.  And other things.  Sometimes we’d find interesting garbage or whatever.  That was a fond memory.  And I recall if you went all the way around to the bottom of the hill there was sort of a green space down there.

And I always liked this hill right here.  This hill seemed really steep.  Like climbing Mt. Everest every day.  And we’re coming up on the street where Irv Greenberg lived.  Wood Street.  And I have some nice memories of Wood Street.   There’s the Greenberg house.  It’s a small house.  This house seems too small in my memory.  And the only exciting thing that happened to me walking home to Ludlow on Middleton was during the winter once me and some friends were walking and a car drove by and my friends had this great idea of throwing snowballs.  And as the car passed we lobbed snowballs which would go onto the windshield.  So we would be behind the car and throwing as they were moving away from us.  And the idea was to get snowballs to land on their windshield and we succeeded perfectly.  And it must have stunned the driver because he stopped suddenly and backed up really fast to try to come after us.  They knew who did it.  And it scared the crap out of me at least.  The other kids were laughing but I ran away really fast.  So he didn’t or she didn’t pursue us.  But it was a little scary.  That was my brush with being a juvenile delinquent.  That’s about as bad as it got.  

Around that period we also spent a lot of time at the zoo.  I don’t have any particular stories about the zoo other than just being there.  And seeing the tigers, seeing the monkeys, seeing the lizards.  And we also spent a lot of time at the Natural History Museum.  It was in this great building, like a castle.  It was a pretty neat building, and I did like it.  Mainly I liked the building.  As I recall, there were skeletons of wooly mammoths and other ancient creatures that don’t exist any more.  

This was the house of my teacher from preschool.  It is a nice building.  I’m thankful they were my teachers because when I was being traumatized they would take me to the hospital.  When Jessica G. was smashing my finger.  I remember being pretty hysterical, and they had to hold me down and it was a large, well-cushioned woman who sort of buttressed herself against me to hold me down which felt kind of overwhelming. 

I do remember feeling like there were cool kids in the neighborhood that kind of scared me.  There was a kid named C*** H***  He was a bad kid, he was a little rough.  He never singled me out for bullying, but he seemed like kind of an 80s movie of cool kids that bully other kids.  And he used to spend a lot of time at the arcade in Corryville, and I was always too scared.  I maybe went there one or two times, but it was pretty overwhelming.  

I do remember going to Northside and going thrifting and going to other thrift stores around town.  I guess we’ve been doing that my whole life.  Whenever we went to Menominee you would do research and we’d have an outing and go to yard sales.  I don’t remember that as much in Cincinnati.  

Now we’re standing on Ludlow opposite the Esquire Theater,  right next to the grocery store.  Kitty corner to Graeters.  These are all some of my favorite places.  I don’t have particular stories to tell but these are the places I wanted to go to when I first came home to Cincinnati.  I do remember that the Esquire was a porn theater where they used to have big posters in front that were provocative and titles that were really inappropriate.  Was Ludlow like Times Square back then?  It’s kind of crazy.  I don’t think that that would fly today.  And I remember that Stier’s Pharmacy was right over there.  Mom would go there all the time, or we’d have stuff delivered from there.  And I remember Keller’s IGA.  I remember going there and shopping all the time.   And then there was the Golden Lion.  And that was a gay bar when I was growing up.  And there was a lot of mystery around that place.  The kids in elementary school were pretty titillated by the concept of a gay bar.  Back then there weren’t that many gay bars, I guess.  And now there’s gay bars everywhere, but back then it was a really strange idea.  It seemed that way to a fifteen-year-old.  

Now we’re standing in front of the old library.  It’s no longer a library.  It’s an open concept wine cafe.  We spent a lot of time.  We would go to the library all the time, I guess.  Super-easy to get to.  We would get DVD’s and VHS movies.  When I was really small I would get childrens’ books there.  I went to story-time there.  There was one particular story-teller who I saw numerous times.  I think you would make an effort to get me to go there.  

I remember there was a place called Acropolis where the Tap Room is now.  It was a Greek restaurant, I would have Hero sandwiches there in high school almost every day.  Especially in the summer time.  I’d take my money and go got a Hero sandwich because I loved that so much.  

Here we are, approaching our house.  It’s funny how you only remember the kind of dramatic or traumatic things.  When we first moved here I was throwing snowballs at the stop sign, and a man stopped and flashed me.  We called the cops.  That’s one early memory I have of this house.  And then I remember playing with matches and sticking it in a hole in the floor, and my parents smelled smoke and they asked me if I’d been playing with matches and I said, “No, no, absolutely not.”  And they called the fire department, and three large fire trucks came to our house and an ambulance and a cop or two, and I was interviewed by the fire department.  And I remember spending a lot of the early years hanging out in the neighbor’s yard, going on the top of the garage, and jumping off the top of the garage into the yard.  And I remember when I started playing tennis I would hit tennis balls agains the wall.  I don’t recall getting any complaints about it.  Maybe I timed it so I was doing it when people weren’t home.  And I remember our rabbit coop in the back.  And I remember a dog got loose and scared one of our rabbits so badly that he had a heart attack and died.  I remember you building a snow bunny in the front yard every year.  A really big snow bunny in the front yard.  That was kind of neat.  And I also remember you had a circular fence, and we’d have the bunny in the front yard, in the front yard, and we’d hang out in front.  And the bunny, Thumper,  would hang out there.  Yeah, I love this house.  

And that’s my experience in Clifton.  My wrap-up statement is that Clifton was a really great place to grow up.  I didn’t know what it was like until I was past my childhood, but when I look back I have a lot of fond feelings.  There was a real neighborhood with a lot of businesses and a lot of fun things to do.  I don’t think I had much of a sense of architecture or an aesthetic sense, but it’s such a pretty area.  So green and the architecture’s so neat.  Just as an adult I appreciate that.  (THE END OF THE TOUR) 

SWEET MARCH, THE SEASON OF HOPE AND NEW BEGINNINGS

 
Dear George, 

It’s 67 here on March first, with a predicted high today of 76. The sky is sunny, the daffodils are blooming in our garden, and the newly sprouting grass on our lawn is a handsome green. In some ways March is the most exciting month of the year. It signals the end to the snow and ice that have made dog walking a little perilous and makes outings to the zoo and the city parks more enticing. True, we have more frost and a few chilly storms to go, but this is definitely a season of hope and new beginnings. Here are some of the many interesting things about March. 

Some Basic March Facts.  In the early Roman calendar March was the first month of the year. It was named after the Roman god Mars because it was the month in which generals resumed military campaigns which had been interrupted by the winter. It’s also the start of the season for farming, and many societies still celebrate March as the beginning of the New Year (which is how it feels to me today). The Anglo-Saxons called it Hlyd monath (Stormy month) or Hraed monath (Rugged month). The Vernal Equinox is on March 20th this year, marking the beginning of Spring and the day on which day and night have the same 12-hour length. Daylight Savings Time starts on March 12th. (d) 

March in Cincinnati.  March is a transition month, winding up winter and beginning to move toward summer. Compared to the year as a whole, March is cooler, wetter, and less sunny than the average month in Cincinnati. It’s the fourth snowiest month of the year (averaging 4.5 inches). We typically get rain on ten days during the month. Sixty-three percent of March days are cloudy, 20% are partly cloudy, and 17% are sunny days free of clouds. The average high temperature is 55, the average low 34. March is the windiest month of the year in Cincinnati with winds averaging 11 m.p.h. (a) 

Quirky March Holidays.  March 1 is “National Pig Day”, and March 2 is “What if Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs Day?” “National Fanny Pack Day” is on March 11, and March 13 is “National Open an Umbrella Indoors Day”. Some celebrate “National No Selfie Day” on March 16 which is the same day as “Absolutely Incredible Kid Day”. March 20 is the “International Day of Happyness”. On the more serious side, Purim begins on March 6th and St. Patrick’s Day is March17th. (d) 

March Madness.  March is the number one month of the year for college basketball fans since it’s the time for March Madness, the NCAA tournament in which the nation’s 64 best teams compete to become the national champion. As a consequence, it’s also the most unproductive month of the year for businesses in America because of all the time workers spend on office betting pools. It’s estimated that some companies lose up to $1.9 billion because of wasted time during March Madness. Because the surgical procedure requires staying home for recovery (presumably on the couch in front of the TV), the first week of March Madness also sees the highest number of vasectomies of any week in the year. (e) 

Poets born in March: Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Mar. 6, 1806); Paul Verlaine (Mar. 30, 1844); A. E. Housman (Mar. 26, 1859); Robert Frost (Mar. 26, 1874); Dr. Seuss (Mar. 2, 1904); Robert Lowell (Mar. 1, 1917); Lawrence Ferlinghetti (Mar. 24,1919); Jack Kerouac (Mar. 12, 1922); Frank O’Hara (Mar. 27, 1926); Gregory Corso (Mar. 26, 1930); John Updike (Mar. 18, 1932). (c) 

March in My Childhood.  After the war our family moved out of town to our house on the Menominee River. Ice on the river melted, broke up, and flowed toward the bay in late March. My parents named the day “Chinese Bells Day” because of the wonderful tinkling sounds from the moving ice. Steve and I tried to rescue treasures from the river that the ice had torn from the banks. We made our last snowmen of the season in March, and I spent less time shoveling our hundred-yard driveway. The melting snow caused deep muddy ruts on Riverside Boulevard, and we’d usually get several days off from school in March because the road was impassable. 

March Nowadays at Our House.  Because of the warming temperatures our dog Iko will get to enjoy longer walks. Katja will go to Rahn’s Greenhouse to buy trays of pansies, and the gardener will begin working on the front and side of our house in earnest. We will watch the Oscars on March 12th, and we’ll celebrate World Poetry Day that same day too. We’ll see the new pottery exhibition by Roberto Lugo at the Art Museum (opening on March 17th), take in the Frank Stella prints at the Skirball Museum (opening March 23), and go to the Dayton Art Institute’s show on artists from Taos and Santa Fe in the 1920’s and 30’s. My OLLI classes in Advanced Poetry and Greek and Roman Mythology wind up in mid-March, and we’ll plan for the Spring quarter. We’ll go to the Linton Concert and the symphony, and Katja and I will each attend our writing groups. I hope to take my first camping trip of the year by the end of the month. 

A March Quote:  "March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.” (Hal Borland, writer) (b) 

 SOURCES:  (a) city-data.com, “Cincinnati, Ohio”; (b) louisem.com, “70 Inspiring March Quotes to Welcome a Marvelous Month”; (c) marchbirthdaysofpoets.wordpress.com, “March Birthdays of Poets”; (d) random-times.com, “The Month of March: holidays, fun facts, folklore and more”; (e) rd.com, “14 Facts You Probably Never Knew About the Month of March”; (f) thefactsite.com, “20 Marvelous Facts About March”; (g) wikipedia.org, “March”.

WRITING CLERIHEWS: CINCINNATI CELEBRITIES

Dear George, 

A clerihew is a short funny poem about a famous person. The form was invented by poet Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) when, at age 16, he was bored in a science class. Rules are simple. Clerihews are four lines long. The first line names a person, and the second line rhymes with the first. Also the third and fourth lines rhyme with each other (i.e., an AABB rhyme pattern). A good clerihew captures something of a person’s character or reputation. The main aim is to sum up an entire life through one incident or detail, making fun of the person. Clerihews are not intended to be rude, but rather are amusing and/or silly. Lines can be any length, and one needn’t use rhythm. W.H. Auden is among the many poets who have written clerihews. Here are some of the clerihews I’ve written about Cincinnati celebrities, current and past. 

Love, 

Dave 

The Bengals’ head coach is Zack Taylor 

Has the mindset of Vlad the Impaler 

Zack draws up the plays for Joe Burrow 

Blazing rockets shot straight down the furrow 

Chef Jean-Robert de Cavel 

Attracted a hip clientele 

The crown prince of French cuisine 

He knew what to do with a bean 

A living legend, hometown hero Pete Rose 

Had gambling debts up to his nose 

Banned for life from the Hall of Fame 

Pete fortunately is impervious to shame 

We all of us remember Nick Clooney 

A most charming man, slightly goony 

Was he likeable?, believe it, Mister 

Though less famous than his son or his sister 

Channel 5’s a.m. star was Paul Dixon 

Way back in those days of R. Nixon 

Paul teased the front row about their knees 

Gave Bonnie Lou and Colleen a squeeze 

Our Reds star these days is Joey Votto 

Hitting better is what Joey ought to 

’Twas a worse than lackluster season 

The wise guys say old age is the reason 

UC’s prez is Dr. Neville Pinto 

Engineering’s the field he’s been into 

Neville’s minions — fifty thousand young students 

All but ten are chronic impudents 

The Reds were once owned by Marge Schott 

Fans prayed that she’d sweeten the pot 

Stupid thoughts about Hitler and Blacks 

But her players soft-pedaled the attacks 

The Bearcats’ best coach was Luke Fickell 

But Luke left the team in a pickle 

Wisconsin wooed our Luke away 

Eight million, hard to say neigh 

The sheriff for years was Simon Leis 

A tough nut who ruled by caprice 

No one ever called Simon humane 

Since his treatments were spankings and pain 

The worst native son is Charlie Manson 

Who was famed at Walnut Hills for his dancin’ 

Manson ordered his groupies to kill 

And they all seemed to think it a thrill 

My first love was Miss Doris Day 

Though Rock Hudson got in my way 

Doris was guileless and pure 

Not to mention her golden coiffure 

Cincy’s cowpoke, a Rogers named Roy 

Such a hero to me as a boy 

Roy would have a shootout with some goon 

Then would croon by the light of the moon

THE BEST CINCINNATI NEW STORIES OF 2022

 

Dear George, 

The population of Menominee County where my home town is located and is about 23,000 while Hamilton County which includes Cincinnati has 826,000 people. Consequently there are about forty times as much of everything in Cincinnati than in Menominee — poor people, rich people, homicides, suicides, vegetarian restaurants, tobacco shops, you name it. As a “small town guy,” I am always amazed by our local news in Cincinnati. Here are my choices for “best” stories in 2022 (where “best” means most amusing, strange, etc.). 

Love, Dave 

 THE AFTER SCHOOL SATAN CLUB 

 Local parents were disturbed when the Lebanon City Schools approved meetings of the “After School Satan Club” for children in the first through fifth grades. The club is sponsored by the Satanic Temple whose organizers say that the Satan Club is an alternative to the Good News Club, an evangelical organization that offers Bible and faith lessons after school. The Satanic Temple does not really believe in Satan but instead promotes “scientific rationality”. Lebanon parents aren’t convinced. (cincinnati.com, 1-21-22) 

DETAINED FOR BEING BLACK 

Two police officers were called to a suburban Meijer store to look for an accused shoplifter described as a white man in his 30s, wearing a dark green jacket with a red hoodie. They promptly stopped a 60-year-old Black man, Arik Lindsey*, who was wearing an orange down coat and a brown and tan scarf. Lindsey’s lawyer said its another instance of a Black person being confronted by law enforcement merely for going about his or her daily life. (cincinnati.com, 2-4-22) 

COACH WYCHE WILL BE AT SUPER BOWL 

Sam Wyche, coach of the last Bengals Super Bowl team in 1989, died of cancer in 2020 at age 74. However, his daughter, Callie Wyche, has brought his ashes and bobblehead to each of the Bengals playoff games, and she’ll have him sitting in front of the TV screen in Cincinnati for the Super Bowl. She’s not sure whether her dad has had a role in the team’s wins, but she’s not taking any chances. (cincinnati.com, 2-9-22) 

 BAD INMATE MANNERS 

Ryan Stock, 24 of Green Township, was jailed for kidnapping a man and shooting him three times in the head when he couldn’t give Stock and his colleagues $5,000. Disgruntled in jail, Stock used a bottle to spray “wet feces” on three different deputies. He is currently undergoing competency tests to see if he understands the charges against him. (cincinnati.com, 2-27-22)  

FAKE DAUGHTER ENDS SOMEONE ELSE’S FATHER’S LIFE 

When Elicia Malthus arrived at the hospital in Edgewood to visit her dying father, Donald, she was told that Elicia Malthus was already in the room visiting him. The impersonator, Marissa Jenkins, 23, signed in as Elisha Malthus and advised staff to remove life support. Marissa was not related to Donald Malthus but was his “ex-stepfather’s sister’s girlfriend’s child” and referred to him as “uncle”. Malthus died the following morning. Jenkins has been charged with identity theft and forgery. Police are also investigating the theft of $2,900 in cash from Malthus’ wallet in the hospital room. (wlwt.com, 4-1-22) 

NOT REALLY SATAN’S DOING 

Southbound I-75 drivers this week probably noticed that a billboard for “The Chosen”, a web series about Jesus, has been defaced. The graffiti artist drew heart-shaped glasses on Jesus’ face and wrote “Stupid Plots” on the billboard. As it turns out, the vandalism was the work of the series’ producers who altered billboards nationwide to promote “The Chosen”. The series co-founder said it only made sense to have the Devil attack Jesus, and he hopes that fans enjoy the humor of this gag. (cincinnati.com, 4-20-22) 

 BAD BOYFRIEND 

Pat Hickey of Clermont County pled no contest to having burnt down his own house and frame his girlfriend. The fire was caught on home security camera which showed two people entering the house with gas cans and removing two large TVs. Hiceys had purchased a custom-made mask of his girlfriend’s face from a company called “That’s My Face” and wore it during the arson. While Hickey did not go to jail, he was required to pay $400K back to the insurance company. (wlwt.com, 4-27-22) 

CRIMINAL JUDGE 

Garda A. Stuckey, 61, of suburban Wyoming, a candidate for juvenile court judge in Hamilton County, has had over a dozen run-ins with local police in the last decade. These include instances where she was found walking topless in her community or lying comatose in a parking lot. Most of the time police or witnesses describe Stuckey as intoxicated and disoriented. Police have made numerous runs to her home for “domestic trouble”, and she has been charged with child endangerment. Democratic party officials chose not to endorse Smith, saying “She did not fit the level of expertise and professionalism that we would expect.” (cincinnati.com, 4-29-22) 

 MUCH TOO YOUNG DRIVER 

A 7-year-old boy was alone in a red Kia SUV, driving in the eastbound lanes of Roosevelt Boulevard in nearby Middletown. He then crossed the median, entered the westbound lanes, struck a guardrail, and crashed into a parked red jeep. Bystanders helped get the boy out of the car after the crash. His parents, unaware that he had left the house, joined him at the hospital. (cincinnati.com, 5-13-22) 

 PURE EVIL Cincinnati police officer Erik Wertha was reassigned and then fired for having “pure” and “evil” tattooed on his right and left knuckles. Department policy forbids tattoos on the face, neck, head, and hands. Wertha appealed, saying that the tattoos do not represent “pure evil” but are on different hands and symbolize the struggle between good and evil. He will not have the tattoos removed because of the cost of cosmetic surgery. (wlwt.com, 6-7-22) 

 MEALS NOT YUMMI 

Anastasia Shinster and Sachar Wilson weren’t happy with their meals at Yummi Xpress on Reading Road in Roselawn and wanted their money back. Wilson sucker punched an employee in the face and kept asking Shinster to shoot him. Shinster then pulled a gun out of her purse and shot the restaurant owner in the arm. Both are due in court on Monday. (local12.com, 7-23-22) 

HELPING THE BENGALS WIN 

 An Enquirer sports columnist during the Bengals win streak asked readers: “What did you do to make the Bengals win again?” Here are some of their rituals. (1) I stopped watching the games live. (2) I stand up and scream on important plays. (3) Put my left leg over right for offense; right leg over left for defense. (4) Keep the remote and phone about a 30 degree angle next to each other on the couch arm. (5) Wear my gold chain every game. (6) Set the volume to 24 on my TV and 19 or 21 in my truck. (7) Wear the same sweatshirt for each home game and never wash them. (8) Don’t wear any Bengals gear. (cincinnati.com, 12-15-22) 

 *Pseudonyms used throughout.

FOOTBALL REVERIES

Dear George, 

        It’s amazing and wonderful that the Bengals have reached the Super Bowl. In recent months I’ve been falling prey to the pandemic, gloomy and listless because of our restricted and uneventful lives. Then, suddenly, the world became filled with magic again, and I have Joe Burrow and teammates to thank for the transformation. All the excitement has reminded me that football is one of the very few things that have been a continual part of my life since middle childhood. I grew up fifty miles north of Green Bay, Wisconsin, and, of course, all my home town residents were and are avid Packer fans. Star receiver Don Hutson was my first athletic hero when I was seven or eight. We kids spent a lot of afternoons playing football at Triangle Park, and my brother Steven and I practiced passing, catching, and kicking in our front yard. My parents bought me a leather football for my eleventh birthday, and, because I was the only kid in sixth grade with his own football, my associates urged me to bring it each day to play at lunch hour. I was more than happy to do so. However, the principal appointed me Captain of the Safety Patrol, charged with arranging for the sixth grade boys to take daily turns as crossing guards. My peers immediately made it clear that, since I got to wear the badge of Safety Patrol Captain, I would have to do their turns as crossing guards while they played ball. They also made it clear that if I disagreed I’d get beaten to a pulp. It was one of my early lessons about the hidden burdens of being in charge of stuff. 

         Being in a small town in a rural environment, high school football was one of the main local attractions. In junior high we raced down the hallways when the bell rang to be first in line at the cafeteria and get out quickly to play ball on the lawn. I think I had my clearest sense of having grown up was when I started going to Friday night football games on my own with my junior high friends. The biggest local event of the year was the annual M&M game in late November between the Menominee Maroons and the Marinette Marines, the high school in our twin city across the river. This was the oldest interstate public school rivalry in the nation. Emotions ran so high that as teens we were cautioned not to drive to Marinette with our Michigan license plates because our cars would be vandalized. 

         When I went to college, phys ed was required of all freshmen, and at the first class the coach asked us to divide ourselves into three groups, based upon football experience: The “Advanced” group was for skilled players who had been on their high school varsity teams; “Intermediate”, those who had played football but were more who average in skill; and “Beginners” who barely knew the rules of football. My non-athletic roommate Bud, a brash New Yorker from the Bronx, assigned himself to the Advanced group, even though he’d never touched a football, confident that he would pick the game up easily and deserved to play with the best. I, on the other hand, not certain whether I knew all of the rules of the game, assigned myself to the Beginners group, despite having played thousands of hours of football. It was an interesting lesson in the vagaries of self-evaluation. 

         My college didn’t have inter-collegiate sports team, but instead had an extensive intramural sports program, and my freshman hall fielded a football team in our first quarter on campus. One of my friends, Arnie Projansky, was captain of the team, and he assigned me to the role of kick returner on punts and kickoffs. I was more than reluctant since several other hallmates were faster runners, but Arnie was insistent, deciding it would be good for me. I wasn’t very successful in gaining yardage, but I felt good about never dropping a kicked ball. 

         After college we went off to graduate school at the University of Michigan. Having gone to a small liberal arts school, I was completely skeptical about going to a large public university, especially a Big Ten school with all the implications of Greek life, partying, and big-time sports hoopla. However, we did get free student tickets to U of M football games, and, out of curiosity, my wife and I went to the first game of the season. Caught up in the crowd of 100,000 crazed fans, cheerleaders, the marching band, etc., we became immediate converts, and we never missed a home Michigan game. During those same years my parents arranged for tickets to Green Bay Packers games when we returned home during Christmas vacations. We got to see several Packers games during the Vince Lombardi Super Bowl era. Bart Starr, Paul Hornung, Jim Taylor, Jerry Kramer, and other legends. We practically froze to death at Lambeau Field, but I still count those Packer games among the highlights of my life. 

         We came to Cincinnati in 1966, and Paul Brown founded the Bengals a year later, so we’ve been Bengals fans from the start. Tight end Bob Trumpy lived in our apartment complex, and he did several question-and-answer sessions with residents which gave us a more personal connection to the team. We moved from Finneytown to Clifton in the early 1970’s, and I started tossing footballs in the back yard to my son J when he turned six. I’d step back one yard with every toss, and he’d never miss, catching the ball at 25 or 30 yards or more. When our backyard got too small we moved across the street to the bank parking lot. After a month or so we came out one day and the bank had erected a steel fence so we couldn’t get in. I thought it was an unnecessarily expensive way to keep fathers and sons from throwing footballs in the parking lot. Now it’s fifty years later, our son is tossing footballs to his own teenage kids, and we’re still following the Bengals. Lots of ups and downs with the home team over the years, but the 2022 Super Bowl is the pinnacle. It’s been worth the wait.

Love,

Dave