The big tree in the field at the end of our street didn’t exactly fall – it was cut down.
We live on a dead-end street, with a walkway at the end leading to baseball fields, the Mt. Washington Pool, Rec Center and Elementary School. “Big tree” was a massive oak by the entrance to the pool.
I am world-famous for not seeing texts in a timely manner. It’s not the worst thing in the world to not be attached to my phone, so I’m good with it. But I really wish I’d see this text from my friend Phil earlier this month:
I had no idea the City of Cincinnati was cutting down Big Tree. If I’d known, I definitely would’ve walked down the street that evening to pay a final tribute to a fallen friend.
I’m glad Phil was able to give it a hug. It deserved millions, for the decades of shade and natural cooling it offered, for the tons of CO2 it removed from the air. For the natural beauty it showcased. For the inspiration it provided.
Big Tree lived a long and fulfilling life of service… to Mother Earth, and to all of us. As you can see from the void in the middle of the trunk in the photo below, it was time for Big Tree to say goodbye.
Now there’s a void. Not just in the field, but in our hearts.
(Dog’s butt added to show scale.)
Time to fill that void by planting another. We need more trees, not fewer.
This past weekend, my friend Jay opened up Jukebox, a “beverage studio.”
Jukebox is America’s first custom sparkling beverage studio, where creativity meets refreshment. We mix premium ingredients, fresh flavors, and endless customization options to craft beverages that are as unique as you.
Jay and I worked together for many years. He left his VP gig in corporate America to start this business. He calls it a “quirky cocktail bar without the cocktails.” Think “dirty sodas” and flavored seltzers and slushies. (You can read more about Jukebox in Cincinnati Magazine and and CityBeat.)
I stick to water (“nature’s champagne”) for my beverage intake. (OK, sometimes it’s water with malted barley, hops, and yeast.) So I don’t fit the target customer profile. But Jay did the research on where to open his store. He also spent countless hours sourcing ingredients, testing flavor combinations, doing consumer research, refining the concept, the marketing plan, the social media strategy… all the million things that go into starting a business.
The odds are stacked against him, and against any small business. “If you build it, they will come” doesn’t always work outside of the movies. But I know Jay’s smarts, enthusiasm, and passion for getting it right will serve him — and his customers — well.
I also know he’s happier being his own boss. The safe route would’ve been to remain a cog in the corporate machine. But that’s not the route that brings him true happiness. And I’m happy that he’s able to pursue his dream, and add more flavor to his life. And yours!
If you live in the ‘nati, check out Jukebox. It’s at 5859 Deerfield Blvd in Mason, in the Deerfield Towne Center. (You may hear a familiar voice doing some promo breaks between songs on the in-house sound system… Morgan Freeman, watch your back!)
I’ve been known to enjoy a beer or two from time to time.
Back in my college days, I was known to enjoy a beer or two… or six… or seven…
It was stupid. I’m gonna blame my lack of maturity, lack of self-control, and not-yet-fully-developed brain. But after college, I learned about the miracle of moderation. I even went alcohol-free for seven years, mainly to prove to myself that I could walk away from it.
One of my college pals, Tim, wound up at the other end of the spectrum. Alcohol took control.
Hi, I’m Tim. I have seen the destruction and pain alcohol can cause. My addiction destroyed my family, the most loved and treasured people to me on this earth. All were innocent victims, especially my children, who were trying to grow up and find their way in life. I could see this happening, and no matter how hard or what I tried (I tried every option in traditional recovery), I could not stop drinking. My family and friends were there for me, but the only options they and I knew were traditional recovery methods. I was miserable and hopeless.
Tim tried the 12 steps. It didn’t work for him. But he found a path that did. And now he’s helping others along their journey.
Tim and I talked about his business (more of a mission, really) quite a bit at the last monthly “hoppy hour” that we typically attend with a group of our college buddies. (More on that in this post from three years ago.)
Yes, Tim still goes to bars. Here’s his FB post about our recent gathering:
What Homer Simpson said about booze is funny.
But we all know someone who has struggled — or is struggling — with alcohol issues. That’s no fun at all. Please pass along Tim’s info: https://onwardafcoaching.com/.
It can’t hurt… and it could save a life.
I’m hosting this month’s “hoppy hour” with the old college crew (accent on the “old”). I’m also going alcohol-free the entire month of June. Because Tim has shown me that I won’t be missing out on anything.
Last Saturday, I saw my friends Cereal Killers play a gig at the brewery down the hill from our house.
Tons of our friends were in the audience for that one.
On Memorial Day, I met up with my friend Ken at another brewery (if you’re sensing a pattern, you may be correct) for the countdown of the Inhailer Radio “Indie 500.” My friends Amy and David were there too. (David works at the same company where my son Peter works!)
Ken has a show on Inhailer, and several of their on-air folks were there.
(Ken does a great “sorority squat”…) They let me sneak into the photo because my friend Dave and I did some of the breaks during the countdown.
Dave and I both worked at 97X back in the day, and we met up with some other 97X alums at… yes, a brewery (the same one as Monday, in fact) on Thursday.
If you’re sensing a pattern, you may be correct.
Sandwiched in between those two outings, my friend Tom (a.k.a. “Freaky Tiki”) and I had dinner with our friend Felicity on Tuesday. Yes, it was at a brewery.
If you’re sensing a pattern, you may be correct.
Oh, and somehow I managed to squeeze in a quick road trip to Cleveland for a concert on Wednesday.
AC/DC was playing the stadium, but if you know me, you know I’m much more of a “bands at a small club” type of guy. Which is why I was at the Grog Shop to see The Tubs (my new obsession) open up for The Wedding Present.
Before the show, I met up with a bunch of college friends. At a bar.
If you’re sensing a pattern, you may be correct.
Last night I met my brother at Ramundo’s Pizzeria (where two of my sons were working) to watch Creighton (his alma mater) in NCAA baseball tournament.
If you’re sensing a pattern, you may be correct. If you’re thinking that the pattern is bars and breweries, you’re incorrect.
Those places are merely the setting.
The pattern is friendship. Band friends. Neighbor friends. Radio friends. College friends. Folks I’ve known for 40+ years, and people I’ve met in the last year or so. I feel blessed to know them, and lucky to call them friends.
I’m an old man who has no business going out nearly every night, much less driving back and forth to Cleveland in the middle of the week, but I draw energy from the connections.
And the Tuesday dinner was a sobering reminder of how fragile life can be. Felicity is the widow of my dear friend Ned. We lost him nearly two years ago. (I’ve posted about that here.)
It’s easy to stay glued to the couch and say “next time.” But there may not be one.
The older I get, the harder it is to get out to meet up with friends. Yet the older I get, the more I cherish the opportunities.
My friends are here, there, and everywhere. And that’s why I’ll be there too!
Our second oldest kid turned 24 on Derby Day. The next day he ran the Cincinnati Flying Pig half-marathon.
I went to three different spots along the route to cheer him on.
At Mile 3, when the runners come back into Ohio from Kentucky… didn’t see him.
At Mile 4, when the route takes them back into downtown… couldn’t spot him there either.
Finally, at Mile 8, I caught sight of him as he was rounding a turn past Eden Park. A quick shout-out from me, a brief smile and nod of acknowledgement from him, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
He’s 24. He’s off and running. All of our kids are. Our oldest will be moving out soon. Our daughter is renting an apartment in Clifton, near school, while she takes summer classes. Our youngest will be home from Indiana U. soon, but he’ll be off with his friends most of the summer.
Our son’s pace quickened in the second half of the race.
I know the feeling. Ferris Bueller taught me well.
It’s their race now. I’m just a spectator. Hoping to catch an occasional glimpse, a brief smile, a nod of acknowledgement.
Before they’re gone. Before I’m gone.
Seems like I was just a kid not so long ago
There were so many arrivals, so many hellos
Now my time behind is greater than my time ahead
Save up the minutes like flowers before all they’re dead and gone…
(The venue’s fantastic logo was created by my buddy Keith Neltner of Neltner Small Batch.)
Sidebar: perhaps you read about Whiskey City’s Liberty Theater in Cincinnati Magazine’s Fall Arts Preview last year? If not, you can rectify that omission from your reading list right here. The author’s name sounds familiar to me…
I really had no business driving that far to see an 8 o’clock show on a “school night.” Especially with severe weather alerts across the Tri-State. But I want to support Dan McCabe – the brains behind the venue’s reinvention, and a legendary music promoter. He’s doing his best to bring great music (and comedy, and whiskey tastings, and record fairs, and fried chicken) to a somewhat sleepy river town. Besides, my friend Dave told me weeks ago that he’d be there for the show. Good tunes and good company – worth the trip.
Dave didn’t show – he’s had some health issues recently and his wife didn’t want him driving alone in bad weather.
The crowd was sparse. (I talked to Dan at the show and he’s playing the long game – some of the artists he’s booking might have 40 for their first show, but 150 for their next one based on word of mouth.)
The venue is a gorgeous, lovingly restored 130-year-old music hall, with a top-notch sound system.
The opener, Dale Hollow, was a lot of fun – even though he had to compete with the tornado sirens that went off during his set. (We were spared, just heavy rain… I know you were worried about my safety.)
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers are on tour to promote their latest album Revelations. But before the tour started, it turned into a farewell tour too. Health issues for one longtime band member, and personal issues for another, made it hard to keep a touring band together. It’s a tough go on the road, spending endless hours in a van with your bandmates, and sometimes playing for sparse crowds, for little money.
But the band didn’t let any of those obstacles keep them from putting on a stellar show.
The lead singer River (nee Sarah) writes some great songs, and they have a great attitude about tuning out the “business” part of the music business, and tuning into their heart.
The nice woman at the merch booth gave me a copy of the set list.
The band members stuck around after the show to talk to audience members, and sign merchandise. Good luck having that happen at an arena show.
Thank you, Sarah Shook & the Disarmers, for making a long trip on a dark and stormy night totally worth it. Thanks even more for your art, straight from your hearts to mine.
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “That is why we should celebrate every day when our feet hit the floor. Another to enjoy and share with…” Jun 25, 04:33
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “This simply explains why we should celebrate every day our feet hit the floor. Another day to enjoy and share…” Jun 25, 04:31
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