Thursday, February 19, 2004

Baby, if you ever wondered ... wondered what ever became of me ...

I'm living on the road in Cincinnati ... Cincinnati ain't the place to be. (sung to the tune of WKRP in Cincinnati).

Yes, this night finds me in beautiful Cincinnati Ohio. Or, more specifically, Blue Ash Ohio. A fabulous vacation? Not quite. Just work.

My experiences here aren't living up, of course, to the fabulous exploits of Cap'n & Wife in Las Vegas and Hollywood last year. But for my own amusement, here are some observations from the finest damn town between Dayton and Louisville:

If I'd thought about the children, I'd have never run down that highway worker. I flew in to Dayton and drove down to Cincinnati to save the company about $600. Just outside of Dayton, there's a big construction area on I-75. And entering the construction area, there are two big signs on either side of the road. One reads "SLOW DOWN, MY DADDY WORKS HERE" and the other reads "SLOW DOWN, MY MOMMY WORKS HERE". To add to the crumb-crusher effect, the sign was written in a "kid" font, with the "S" in "WORKS" drawn backward. Aww, how cute. I'm so sick of the "its for the children" mentality, I'm ret to scream. Just like the "Baby on Board" crap, you have to wonder if people think others are really more likely to create careless mayhem if you don't remind them that "the children" may suffer from your recklessness. I say not. I like the construction signs I saw a few years ago in South Carolina. They were standard orange diamond signs that read "Let 'em work. Let 'em live." I can get on board with that. Yes, I shall let them work, and in doing so, let them live!

And now the hotel next door is taunting me. When I rolled in to town last night, I needed to grab some stuff off the Internet that I'd created for my meeting today. So I get in to my Hampton Inn room and I notice no high-speed modem; no notes about wireless service, and not even a spare phone jack to plug in a dial-up connection. And no business center, either. The guy at the front desk said most people go over to Kinkos and rent Internet time there. Great. I managed to find a local Earthlink number and fortunately the phone cord wasn't hard-wired into the room phone, so I'm coming at you with a whopping 26.4 kbps. And the worst part is that my wireless card keeps picking up bits of the signal from the hotel next door. Of course, I can't connect to it. It just keeps popping up as a reminder of my dial-up misery.

Love the track suit, coach. We had dinner tonight at a place called the Montgomery Inn. It's apparently a famous local ribs place (word on the street is that Bob Hope used to order ribs flown in from the Inn to his California parties). The ribs were OK, but I'll take Daddy D'z over these any day. The Inn is also the home of the weekly radio show of University of Cincinnati basketball coach Bob Huggins. And tonight was show night. As we were waiting for our car, Coach Hug rolls up and makes his way inside. Yes, it was a beautiful satinesque Bearcats track suit he was wearing. I resisted the temptation to remind him of just how freaking overrated his program has been for the past 20 years. I made plenty of headway in my NCAA basketball pools in years past picking his teams to get upset.


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