A night in the seven hills.

 

Ah, Cincinnati. The ‘Nati. Cincy. Sinsinnasty.

I have such a love/hate relationship with you. You remind me of some of the best and worst times in my life… I loved living within your hilly confines, but I despised your racial tension, your screwed-up government, your impossible-to-navigate streets. I love your Graeters, your Skyline, your Christian Moerlein, and your First Watch; you can take back your goetta, your Big Red Smokies, your Hudepohl and your Camp Washington Chili. Queen City, you are bipolar, and I guess that’s why I keep coming back.

This past weekend, I went back to Cincinnati to visit my friend Tony who I had not seen in six years. Six years! We had a good time schlepping around Newport (on the other side of the river in KY—he has an incredible apartment in a really cute neighborhood!) We had lunch at a bar and watched the rest of the Reds game (they didn’t choke!) and then went to see a band do an in-store at this record shop on MainStrasse. We got there too late to see the band, but I did get to talk to a few girls from the Black-N-BlueGrass Rollergirls, who were great. I hope I get to come down to practice with them sometime.

Next, we went over to Tony’s friend Angela’s house for a bit, then headed over to the Southgate House (my favorite bar ever!) for a CD release party featuring The Thirteens, Wussy, Pearlene, and others. Despite my crushing sleepiness, I still managed to have a wonderful time. Tony’s the type of person who can walk right up to strangers and start talking; I’ve never been that way, so I hung back a bit and just watched the action. I was really impressed with Wussy, and how incredible they sounded live. I wasn’t all that impressed with the recordings I had heard on woxy.com, but their live show is fantastic—made even better by the double-fisting, crazy dancing guy going apeshit in the front row through the entire set. We had drinks on the huge wrap-around porch, looked out over the skyline, and had conversations about porn and baseball.

 

What more can you ask for?

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2 Responses to “A night in the seven hills.”

  1. Mmm. Grater’s nectar floats.

  2. And, oh my God, I haven’t had goetta in fucking YEARS. Years! When we’d visit my dad’s hometown of Greenhills, we’d walk to this little diner, and I’d have goetta and Dr. Pepper for breakfast.

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