Seems everyone in Northeast Ohio had the same idea Sunday: Let’s go hike and ride in the Towpath Trail!
A visit to the Cuyahoga Valley National Park
When things go blank in the night
It’a 2:22 a.m. Wednesday, the power has been out since — hell, I don’t know — the hours and days and weeks just seem to all run together lately. Ok, it’s been since about 11:15, just seems longer.
The storm seemed to come out of nowhere. I hadn’t noticed lightning or anything until it was right on top of us — or rather me, because I was the only person on the entire second floor of the Chronicle building. Everyone else was working at home or sheltering in place.
This is how it is in times of pandemics.
Anyway, the building suddenly started shuddering and the rain started pounding. I’d never felt the building shake like that before, or heard the way the wind howled and whistled about the building. And moments later BLAM! Lights out.
After a few seconds of machines bleeping and lights flickering, partial power came back as the generators kicked in. But half the building was still dark and I knew we were in for a long night.
With me alone in the newsroom and a skeleton crew downstairs in production and platemaking the the press room, communication was a bit spotty.
We already had been dealing with crisis after crisis as the COVID-19 pandemic became ever-more-menacing, and now this.
Two colleagues were working at home, trying to piece together a newspaper out of cobbled-together information using a cobble-together virtual publishing network, but there needed to be someone on site to make sure the train leaves the station, proofs are made, etc. Unless there’s, you know, a power outage.
At that point, there’s not a whole hell of a lot anyone can do except soldier away and hope the power comes back on.
The backup power can keep the computers and networks going, it can keep platemaking (the computerized pages are converted to physical plates which eventually put ink on paper) going. But it can’t power the presses. Cuz they’re big machines. They take a lot of juice to run.
So the discussion turned to if we don’t get power back, can we get pages to the Plain Dealer, with whom we have an emergency printing agreement. Two problems with that: One, It’s a very expensive agreement and we’ve just had our budget cut to the bone. Two, the PD’s press crew was already gone by the time we tried to contact them. Something like that.
Ultimately, the decision was made to hold off until power is restored and print sometime Wednesday. This was only the second time in my decades of newspapering have I seen a failure to go to press. The first time was just a few months ago.
Nothing left to do but go home. And you’re welcome. I clocked out an hour earlier. Budget cuts, don’t you know?
It’s easy to forget how truly dark darkness can be when you have no city lights surrounding you. I needed to press my key fob a few times just to find my car in the parking lot. As I drove home on my half-mile commute in the inky night, even my headlights seemed woefully inadequate to illuminate the way.
Like a candle in the wind.
It’s 3 a.m. now.
It’s deathly still, inside and out.
No wind. No rain. Hardly a sound except some vague distant hum, probably highway traffic miles away.
I hope the power comes back soon. No Netflix, no radidio, no Facebook. Only the remaining battery life on this laptop. I might lose my mind!
In the dark, 2:59 a.m. Just me, a computer and a small flashlight
NCC 1701
So I recently started binge-watching the “Star Trek” original series on Netflix. Again. Funny how things you missed as a kid or in reruns or even the second or third time around suddenly become obvious after further review. Some things were obvious from the get-go. Others kind of seep into your consciousness. Chances are none if this is any sort of revelation to the world. Except to me. I’m woke!
Some observations:
- Cheesy special effects, pre-CGI and so forth. Well, that’s a given. Fifty years.
- The music. Some crazy sound conventions telegraph what happens next. Again, 50 years.
- Crazy overacting. Thank you, Shatner! Then we moved on to Patrick Stewart’s Shakespearean period. And so on. What if Al Pacino were a Starfleet captain? “Say Hello to my photon friend!”
- Sometimes wildly off-target projections of 1990s technology. Space travel? Comparatively feeble. Computer technology? Hits and misses. Nobody could have imagined Windows 95. Social evolution? Ummm, stay tuned.
- It’s true, the guy in the red shirt almost always dies.
- A very young Teri Garr makes an appearance in one of those throwback 20th century episodes. I checked the credits. I thought I’d spotted Julie Newmar. Confirmed. Ron Howard’s little brother Clint plays an enigmatic alien in a crib of sorts. Also confirmed. (imagine Opie in an intergalactic diaper) Here you go:
-
My god! He still had baby teeth!
- And then there is Julie Newmar
- Gene Roddenberry took great pains to expose racism as the horrible, outdated and totally wrong mindset it was (and, sadly, continues to be). And yet the shows were appallingly, egregiously sexist (even by our standards).
- Recent Super Bowl halftime shows may revise that thought process. (Hello, J-Lo and Shakira!) .
- Every episode was loaded with scantily clad chicks. (Do you remember episode with an extra-leggy Uhura in bare midriff? Some abs!! That was the alternate universe episode with evil goatee Spock) As a wee lad, did not appreciate Uhura and her green-skinned brethren. G-rated porn. Yeow.
- Ricardo Montalban would be a stud in any century.
- Most of the hot chicks in the ’60s would be hot chicks now. Not all, but most.
- Not so sure about the dudes. Those groovy hippy dudes were pretty lame. Then again, Ricardo Montalban.
- Kirk is a dog. In any century. Total dog.
- Spock was an occasionally smooth ladies’ man.
- Could Sulu have been openly gay? In 1966-68? Not a chance. In 2020, viable candidate for president.
- Remember Lurch from “The Addams Family”? (Ted Cassidy, height 6-9 according to Wikipedia) He’s a remarkably agile giant robot in a “Star Trek” episode. Kicked Kirk around like a hacky sack.
- Every episode involving little kids is cringe-worthy. Why keep trying? Why? (OK, “Modern Family” might be the rare exception). But please. Stop. Babies ruin every series. Ever. Except “Modern Family.” And at times it threatened. Just sayin’, people!
In summary, in many ways some things never change. As the French say, “Plus ca change plus c’est la meme chose.” And in other ways, ch-ch-ch-changes, turn and face the strange … ch-ch-changes. Times may change me, but I can’t trace time…
A wintry day at Cascade Park
So this was the first “real” snowfall of this winter, and it still ain’t much. Makes for a nice view, though. This is the Black River at Cascade Park in Elyria, in case you didn’t know.
A river runs through it — never heard that one before, have you?
Tough sledding.
30 yards and a cloud of snow
Oh, so THIS is snow …
Always like taking little detail shots with soft focus backgrounds.
The carved-in-rock steps to the trail. Wasn’t feeling terribly adventurous today, worried about slipping and breaking a leg. Or camera.
If I did need rescuing, at least plenty of cops were nearby. Not sure why. They didn’t say. They weren’t dragging the river, so I’m guessing they were killing time.
The Rock.
At the LoCo Fair
Well, long time no post. This is from last weekend’s Lorain County Fair. Clearly my photography has gotten rusty. Need to revisit the owner’s manual on this thing. Everything is overexposed. Hard to tell in the glaring sun. Anyway, here are a few of my less craptastic shots.
Not “Stairway to Heaven,” but close: “Do You Feel Like We Do.” Had Frampton’s guitar down pat.
And of course the obligatory tractor pull. Loud as hell. Next time I’ll bring earplugs.
And now for a little bit of food porn
Cue swanky ’70s guitar for a big ol’ slab o’ beef … and some secret herbs and spices and unsparing direct lighting
Oooh, yeah, baby, carve me right down to the bone! Yeah, yeah … ummmm
Not ready for prime time foliage
I have to preface (in case the header didn’t clue you in) that the fall colors have been disappointing so far this year. Perhaps it could be the unusually warm fall.
Anyway, here’s my second stab at fall foliage, but I think this might be an off year, going mostly straight from green to brown. We’ll see.
I wish I had a more powerful lens, cuz I had to crop and enlarge this quite a bit, and as you can see, it’s gotten a tad grainy. Someday when I grow up, maybe.
This would make an excellent haunted house
This was generating a fair amount of mist, so I didn’t hang long for fear of ruining my camera.
And them’s pretty much the highlights Oct. 30 in Cascade Park along the Black River in Elyria (a somewhat dingy town in Northeast Ohio). Hey, I’m just sayin’.
Maybe I’ll have better luck in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park/towpath area. Before the leaves all fall off.
And you know what comes next …
Brandywine with the offspring
It only took me a week, but here is evidence of our trip to Brandywine Falls, ostensibly to see some fall foliage. Nature was not cooperating. The leaves had hardly begun changing, even though it’s mid-October.
But it’s always fun gathering with the offspring!
The Lion Cat stands watch over his garden, enduring the occasional pat on the head or scratch on the ear.
I flick you!
I found this painted rock in Elyria, hiding in plain sight outside the Chronicle. It is being hidden in plain sight here near Brandywine. Perhaps visitors have been too bedazzled by the waterfalls to notice this humble rock owl.
This cryptic inscription was found on the back.
Woolly Woolly!
That’s all, folks!
Pelee 2018
After a much-too-long absence, I finally made it back to Pelee Island, the southernmost part of Canada on Lake Erie.
This sunrise vaguely resembles a nuclear detonation, don’t ya think?
It wrapped up a fabulous 10-day vacation that started slowly and then went BAM! with the Foo Fighters concert Wednesday at Blossom Music Center and then on to the Lake, which had perfect weather, except on the ferry ride over to Pelee, when a lovely rainstorm hit. No biggie, though: It was over by the time we reached the island.
Trouble ahead, troubles behind …
It was a tad buggy the first two days. On Friday, for whatever reason, the biting flies were especially vicious. They would land on a leg or arm three at a time and start chewing away. They leave a nasty sting but usually no visible mark. I probably have more bruises from swatting the bastards than actual marks or welts from the bites. Eric, the Pelee veteran he is, has mastered the smush-three-flies-at-a-time technique and is quite proud of his skill.
He has many skills. Backing up a trailer is not among them. Trying to back a personal water craft (PWC) into water a sandy slope doesn’t help matters. Especially in the soft, dry sand above the waterline, the tractor’s smaller front wheels became glorified sand plows when Eric would cut the wheels to turn one way or the other. We all looked on in horror. And yet we survived.
Eric and his toys
Having been there for the better part of a decade, Yvonne and Eric — along with my niece Natalie and relatively recent addition Finnegan (Finn, or my preferred nickname “Finster,” inspired by a Bugs Bunny episode) (but I digress) — have developed a nice rapport with the neighbors, who are without exception exceptionally friendly and fun.
Finn in his natural environment
The previously mentioned PWC is a relatively recent addition. Once we (mainly meaning Eric) got the sucker in the water, we took turns taking it out for a spin.
Eric and Natalie in action on the water
This was only my second experience with any personal watercraft. Boats? No problem. Water skiing? No problem. Jet Ski? Problem. Especially if you’re trying it for the first time in ocean surf. But this Kawasaki is more like a Seadoo, a motorcycle on water. Toughest part was getting a feel for the throttle and steering, which is waaaay different from a 15- to 20-foot boat. But on the second trip out, I got it up to 52 mph, which can be a bit unnerving bouncing around that close to the surface.
Feeling daring, I allowed myself to be talked in an inner tube ride. And in spite my sister and niece’s best efforts, I survived. Yay! Curiously, I noted the brand name later, and it struck me as completely appropriate: Jolt.
Can’t make this stuff up!
As hard as it might be to believe, there is more to Pelee than water sports and lazing on the beach and swatting flies. There is wildlife. I just missed an opportunity to get pix of the legendary Lake Erie water snake wolf down a goby, one of the most despised invasive species in the lake in part because nobody knew if they had any natural enemies. Huh. Now we know. I remember shouting, “Good job, snake!” As I dashed (lumbered, really) over the sizzling sand to grab my camera. Too late.
Nobody bothers the snakes, which is a good idea because they’re a protected species. Also, they can get a bit bitey, though they are not venomous. Just ouchy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of them on the Ohio side, although that is part of their quite small natural habitat (western basin of Lake Erie, basically), they’re quite common on Pelee. I have proof on previous posts, if I can just find them! Ah, here’s a link from 2009, one of my earlier trips.
On to wildlife:
I spy a birdie in the ditch that circumnavigates the island. Not sure what its original purpose was, but I suspect the ditch serves to contain the farm runoff. There is a lot of farmland on Pelee, and that water is thick with algae.
And now:
Money shot!
I had spooked this heron shortly after the previous shot, went on to the lighthouse and violated several local ordinances because the area was closed off because of recent storm damage. Scofflaws! Well, we ran into a few others while out there.
Anyway, on the way back, I spotted our blue friend here chomping away on a snack — a sunfish, judging by its orange coloring and shape and size.
And now a few other images, because I’m running out of useful things to say, except thanks to Eric and Yvonne and that pesky Natalie for a great time and great hospitality.
Moonrise
The obligatory selfie with the legendary Stoneman of Pelee Island
Yvonne
The Horstman crew with neighbor John
Sunset (I know, hard to tell, right?)
Stoneman and his growing family.
Natalie with Stonebridge
Neighbor on maiden voyage on paddleboard. I was there, ready to shoot when she flopped. She did not flop, much to my disappointment
Custom-decorated star rail to the loft
Living/dining area with view of the lake
Another part of living area, also with a view of the lake.
A hummingbird visits the feeder
This is the quintessential island car, a 1990 (I believe) Cavalier. Low mileage, runs just fine, and nobody cares if you get a little sand in it.
An exterior shot of the the place …
Ha-ha! This is the actual cottage. Hard to hide from sunrise here.
A hazard of parking in Sandusky: Gulls poop all over the place, and this isn’t even that bad.
Fully functioning kitchen
Some of the gang hanging in the water
Father-daughter dance, Pelee style
One of the more recent projects, updated deck
To be continued … maybe
Lighthouse
Not the sharpest image ever shot of this often-photographed Lorain lighthouse. Too hazy. I’ll have to get up earlier or wait till closer to sundown. Or find a better photographer.
Memorial Day 2018
Memorial Day, May 28, 2018.
It’s 10-something a.m. on Washington Avenue in bucolic Elyria, Ohio.
Pretty much your standard small-town parade: firetrucks, convertibles, every club and civic organization in town, old soldiers, not-so-old soldiers, Marines, etc., firetrucks, candy, marching bands, vintage cars, a beat-up old Ford station wagon (!), no DeLorean. A cemetery.
Some of us might want to rethink the whole Spandex idea
Low. Rider. Goes a little slower.
At the Rib Cook-Off
Took a little jaunt down the pike to Berea for the Rib Cook-Off, the unofficial official start of summer in Northeast Ohio.
After getting caught in rush-hour traffic, I arrived at the Cuyahoga County Fairgrounds to a fairly sparse crowd. Things were just getting started, I guess.
Anyway, here are just a few pics from the day. Nothing spectacular, but the ribs I tried were mighty tasty. I randomly picked Sgt. Oink, one of fourteen vying for the championship. Recommended!
Entertainment provided by Cleveland classic R&B group Cruisin.
Old news
I’ve been having some trouble with WordPress. I don’t know how much is the blog app or whether my competer and browser have simply gotten too old.
Well, I’ll try typing blind.
IT was a full moon.
And this is what happened:
And this:
And finally this:
Fortunately, it was not my apartment that burned, but an upstairs unit.
I was a temporary refugee. Building is still a mess and many of the tenants have relocated. But I’m staying put. I just hate to move.
Graduation Day
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Afternoon stroll
Nothing special, really. Just a walk in the park. And the cemetery.
Sploosh
Cleaning house
Time to clean house, update files, unclutter the computer, restore order. Do the dishes. Put away the laundry. Purge that hulking pile of paper and crap.
This kind of goes hand-in-hand with the recent miniburst of activity on the blog and so forth.
Been living a pretty slothful life for the last, oh, I dunno, year or so.
Time for control + alt + delete 2.0. Maybe defrag the hard drive and purge some files. Figuratively and literally.
Who knows? Maybe a change of scenery would do me good.
That’s all for now.
Poor Man’s Alfredo
Down to a few crumbs in the fridge and pantry? Got two or three days before payday? Believe me, I know the feeling.
Times like these are when it pays off to get a little creative.
Let’s take a quick inventory.
If you’ve grown accustomed to be being broke, chances are you’ve got some Ramen noodles lying about. Am I right?
OK, so Ramen noodles, check.
Next, hopefully you have a little milk that hasn’t soured yet. Yes? OK, check.
How about butter? Not even a half-stick? How about a few packets swiped from McDonald’s or your favorite food pantry? OK, then. Check.
Happen to have a wedge of aged Romano and a grater? No, I didn’t think so. How about some grated Parmesan? No? Not even a few packets pilfered from your favorite pizza joint? Look again. Oh, yeah, forgot about Saturday night, didn’t you? All right, then. Check.
Pantry check:
Fresh garlic? Didn’t think so. How about powder? OK, that’ll do — in fact, it’s bonus.
Fresh peppercorn grinder? No? Any black pepper? Check that junk drawer. There it is. We may not be world-class chefs, but we’re not Philistines either. Or are we? Don’t answer that.
Now this is critical. Do you still have power and a functioning stove? Or a least a hot plate or microwave? Then we’re in business!
OK, in summary:
Ingredients
- One package (more if you’re really hungry) Ramen-style noodles
- Butter, hopefully at least a quarter-stick
- Reasonably unsoured milk
- Parmesan cheese in any amount you can scrape up
- Garlic and pepper (optional — hell, everything but the noodles is optional)
Directions
In small pot, bring water to a boil. You do know how to boil water, right?
Place noodle pack (no, take it out of the package, idiot!) in boiling water, let cook about 3 minutes.
Drain most of the water out of the pan. Don’t use a colander (as if you had one!) because most of the noodles will slide right through. Trap the noodles with a fork or whatever. You don’t have to drain it dry, just do your best.
Reduce heat to low and return pot to stove.
Stir in butter and milk. Let’s not get pretentious and require precise measurements. You ain’t Julia Child or Anthony Bordain. Eyeball it: Use enough to bathe those precious Ramen noodles that go for a buck a six-pack.
Now sprinkle with Parmesan and pretend it’s freshly grated Romano pecorino. Stir.
Remove from heat. Let it sit for a couple or three minutes.
Sprinkle with garlic and pepper (again, optional, and if you’re with a poor date, be careful how much garlic you use)
Serve.
It’s actually surprisingly good!
Serving suggestion
Results may vary
OK, OK, here’s what it really looks like. And after throwing together a second batch, I have to say it’s one of the better Alfredos I’ve had. Def beats sauce in a jar!
Photo courtesy of Studio on Washington
Dream analysis
I had one of those weird dreams last night/this morning.
Apparently I was somewhat aware I was dreaming. I was analyzing a dream in this dream. I reached the conclusion that it was about feelings of guilt. Or perhaps more precisely, it was about regret. Two related but different things. You can regret things or moments you feel guilty about. But can also regret things you have or haven’t done haven’t done and looking back, wish you had done differently.
Maybe a career choice. Plenty of regrets there. Maybe failing to pursue a potential relationship. A regret or two there. Seafood or steak? Or something more adventurous. Ah, maybe a regret or two there. They come in all sizes.
I don’t remember specifics of this particular dream (or was it a series of dreams? Not uncommon). But I’m pretty sure it was about regret.
And to quote the Butthole Surfers: “The funny thing about regret is it’s better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven’t done.”
To enjoy this fine video in full, click here (I promise, no Rick-roll)
Eruption
I’ve noticed that my blogging tends to go in fits and starts. Sometimes I’ll forget it’s there and let it lie dormant for a month. Or three. Then it’ll erupt in spasm of photos, thoughts, rants and so forth. I think I’m on the verge of an eruption.
Rumble, rumble …
A few pics near Lake Erie
Recent day trip was not entirely satisfying. But at least I got out and about a bit.
French Creek in Sheffield / Sheffield Lake
Here is the source of my greatest disappointment. I had gotten word of an “atmospheric inversion,” a phenomenon where the air immediately above the surface of a body of water acts as a magnifying glass, making faraway objects appear much closer than they actually are. In this case, you could make out the Canadian side of Lake Erie, Cedar Point and other parts along the Lake that normally are not visible from Lorain or Sheffield Lake. For a better look, click here. Colleague Bruce Bishop got a much better shot of it the day before.
Swim meet
Made it to Lindsey’s last swim meet. Her relay team just missed making the state meet by one spot. Dang.
Oh, and it was her 18th birthday. A state qualifier would have been the perfect gift. Ah, well, life ain’t perfect.
Lindsey’s last lap in her last leg in her last event in her last meet in high school competition. She had the lead, but the team finished second in the heat.
Lindsey’s Hoban High School relay team.
A Christmas Story, with a slight twist
Dear Democrats
You whiney cry babies. How many of you voted? How many of you DID NOT vote? Because if you did not vote, you have YOURSELF to blame. Yes, you, you lazy-ass, do-nothing whiner.
Piss and moan all you want, but inaction made the difference in this election. Couldn’t be bothered to take a few minutes to register to vote? Or maybe you registered but couldn’t be bothered enough to take a few minutes out of your oh-so-hectic schedule to vote? Really?
I inconvenienced myself for, oh, maybe 15 minutes on Election Day. Could have spent a half-hour in line voting early at the Board of Elections. Point is, I went to all that trouble to make myself heard where it counts. Facebook doesn’t count. Bumper stickers don’t count. Votes count.
How about you?
Chances are the ones I want to reach with this shame will never see this because you’re far too busy doing whatever you waste your time with.
Point lost on the pointless.
Well, what government we get we deserve.
Thanks a lot.
Ass hole.
Thanksgiving 2016
Well, ain’t this grand?
Last call
Last call … 
Nov. 22, 2016
AkronDave 
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