The Story Thus Far: For reasons we could explain but aren’t sure how, we’re still living in the Queen City, living off of Cincinnati Chili by day, crossing the river for Kentucky Bourbon by night. We like it here, staying mostly in Northside, wandering freely as we please, reading the papers over coffee at Sidewinder, plugged into the socket of this American life in ways we hitherto didn’t know possible. We’re IN this.
View from Fairview Park, plotting the Complete Takeover, one vista at a time. Some day, all of this will be yours.
Father Gibbs hawks his wares at Findlay Market, in Over-The-Rhine, est. 1852. Lots of eats and meats up in this piece. We recommend the spicy pickle, a mere dollar.
Mike (aka The Party Source) at the Party Source, in Bellevue, Kentucky. When shopping for Kentucky bourbon, best to go to the source. Or, at least, the Source.
Coffee mornings on Lakeman Street, snow flurries and the sound of birds. This life cumulative.
Coneys, at Camp Washington Chili. I sent this picture to Joey Sweeney and his response was “I want that.” I tell ya Joey, how I wish, how I wish you were here.
What is it about the Wowl that keeps us coming back for more? We’re not quite sure. We pass this porch, a porch devoid of any furniture or trappings save one lone Wowl, and it’s like we can hear it calling out to us. We cannot resist. And so we obey, by rolling up on it, being close to it, and listening carefully to its crucial message. Can you hear it?
All tomorrow’s parties in a vacant storefront, Hoffner Street. Awesome.
Mount Adams, at the top of the steps to the Immaculata Church. I mean what the hell, you couldn’t catch me dead doing the Rocky steps back in Philly, but I’m not going to say I never wanted to. Fuck it.
Devou Park, Kentucky, looking out at the new tomorrow tonight. Who knows what’s next, what’s tomorrow, what’s anything. We’re just Being Here Now, and it looks like we’ll probably Be Here Tomorrow. Like William Blake once said, “What is now proved was once imagined.”