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| Cincinnati, Ohio |
Wondered whatever became of me,
I'm living on the air in Cincinnati,
Cincinnati, WKRP.
"WKRP in Cincinnati" TV show theme by T. Wills and H. Wilson
It seems every vacation I take, I bring the summer heat of Florida with me. Even to a more northerly clime such as Ohio. The plane had trouble keeping cool and the outside weather when I landed was about what you'd expect for my hometown at the same time.
My "hometown." I'm talking about Orlando (and environs) and I guess I may as well spill the beans early...it will for now stay that way. Yep, I decided on Monday morning to text the agent for the little house in West Virginia that I'd be passing on it. There were too many red flags: They were too eager to sell even well below asking price with hardly any pressure bargaining, the house was, indeed, very small and with no washer/dryer, storage space, close-by mail and garbage pickup, on a dirt single car-width path, in an economically depressed area and, last but not least, in a moderate to severe flood zone. Nope. Had to pass.
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| The little house that I was considering buying. |
I tried to make the best of it. I went to the Cincinnati Museum of Art, well-known since my art history days as one of the benefactors of several old midwest rustbelt families of 19th century wealth and the collection did not disappoint. What's more, thanks to some rich benefactor's endowment, admission was free. A tip of the monocle to you, fine sir...
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| Cincinnati Museum of Art |
I had chosen a hotel close to the airport and since the airport is actually across the Ohio River south of Cincinnati, it was in Kentucky. The hotel room was rather depressing and reminded me of a prison cell. Microtel by Wyndham. I thought the Wyndham name signified quality. I guess, like the Hilton name, it's not a guarantee anymore.
After snubbing the high-priced eatery options at the casino, I decided to do my usual grocery store run and dinner and drinks in the room thing.
The next morning, after I made the decision to heed Ric's advise, I then sought out what to do for the day. Luckily (so I thought) I found out that one of the top parks on my theme park bucket list was just a few miles away. Kings Island, the featured park I'd known about since early childhood watching "Banana Splits" on Saturday mornings. Each Saturday, as a preamble to the cartoons featured on their show, the costumed characters making up The Banana Splits (a zany dog-costumed "rock band?") evocative of the late 60s early 70s youth culture, would be seen enjoying the rides and attractions at the park, including the impressive iconic replica of the Eiffel Tower. So here I was about to visit this great park. I paid for my admission and parking, a total of about $75...close to Orlando prices (well, not really, but still very expensive) and drove the 25 miles or so to the park. But, the parking lot was empty and the gates said "CLOSED." I called customer support and found out they are only open on the weekends at this time. No refunds. I was screwed.
Here's a shot of the closed park from the edge of the empty parking lot. How fuckin' sad.
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| What would Clark Griswold do? |
Back in Kentucky closer to the hotel, I had a pretty good Chinese buffet and after buying a six pack of some local craft brewery Country Boy IPA, made my way back to the cell. Watched a cable movie and shook my head having to endure its non-stop barrage of commercials. How do people put up with this shit?
Got to the airport early the next day to avoid a three day rental on the car (a Toyota Yaris which, I must say, was rather nice, except that it was automatic causing much initial confusion like why it wouldn't let me pull out the key when parking....oh, because I still had it in drive, not PARK, duh!) and snapped this shot of one of the model river boats they have on display along the people movers.
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| Olde Tyme Cincinnati |
