The cardinal, the buckeye, the scarlet carnation, the trilobite: all symbols of Ohio. Which explains four of the six tattoos on Beverly Strappe’s legs. The proud Ohioan (1940-2010) also has(d?) the Big Dipper, perhaps an allusion to her state’s role in the Underground Railroad.* Or it could (have?) simply be(en?) a product of her fascination with stars. Whether or not the Underground Railroad was the inspiration for her Big Dipper tattoo will never be confirmed or disconfirmed. Unless her stepson Eddy finds the diary she kept from December 30, 1970 to April 10, 1971. The sixth tattoo is too personal for the Internet.
*When viewed from the southern states the Big Dipper indicates which way is north so runaway slaves used the constellation as a navigation system.
-That you run a bar and you don’t know Cynar. It’s an artichoke liqueur.
-I haven’t heard of everything.
-Don’t you keep up?
-I keep up. I read my sites.
-What sites?
-You wouldn’t know them.
-What sites?
-Webtender, for one.
She takes out her phone and goes to Webtender and laughs.
-What’s wrong with Webtender?
-Nothing.
-Why are you so into Cynar?
- We were just at the Fear and the bartender made us a drink called the Harrumph. It’s gin, soda, something else, and Cynar, and I asked him what Cynar was and we chatted and I told him you run Hey Jealousy. He loves your burger.
-We do a good burger.
Do we need Cynar? Is Hey Jealousy the type of bar that serves Cynar? Am I the type of the guy who runs a bar that has Cynar? Could I make my own version of the Harrumph and give it another name? The Hound Dog? The Wife? Why am I not a creative person? Would people order it? What would it cost? Will we continue to lose more and more money? What will I do once the bar goes under? What are my talents, and where are these green jobs? Is it too early for us to have Cynar? Too late? Who else has Cynar? Who could I call at New York Beverage?
-Brian. I have a question. Who’s getting Cynar?
-Most people. You’re not?
-Why would I?
-For Harrumphs. How are you making Harrumphs?
Was 25 bottles too much? How long will they last? Till 2030? Will I be alive in 2030? Will I be married? Will someone I know from school be president? Andrew Yingling? Does he have the cojones? Are we still calling them cojones? Am I the type of guy who says cojones whether or not other people are calling them cojones? Do I have the cojones to sleep with M. again? Will she be impressed when I tell her we’re adding a new drink even though it’s not a new new drink? Are there any new new drinks to be made? Will I have to show her and Robbie how to make it or could they learn online? Have I ever taught anyone anything before?
Two rivers flow through Waynesville, the Antiques Capital of the MidwestSM. You got the Great Miami and you got the Little Miami. Both are named after the Native American tribe which once inhabited the area, but whereas these rivers are still flowing strong and flooding often, the native people are long gone. William Apples of Springboro is shopping for a wooden Indian to legitimize his new cigar shop and he’s thinking about the Miami Indians and should have Miami University changed their mascot from the Redskins to the Redhawks and does his shop even need a wooden Indian? It’s all too much. He leaves the store and re-lights his cigar; his wife Jean buys an Indian and arranges for it to be shipped.
Brunch last Sunday was me, Fay and Michael from the Hudson, and their friend Z who designs t-shirts that are just OK. We went to Hey Jealousy, my third choice behind Egg and Kinderhaus, which were both slammed. Z is kinda fat so after the hostess showed us our table he made it clear he wanted to sit in the chair that would give him space to spread out. I ended up in a chair that was against a booth and throughout brunch the loud couple in the booth talked about their friend Steve who has herpes and how the morning after he gets with a girl he films her while telling her that she may have herpes now and posts the clips on Stevegaveyouherpes.com or Yougotherpesfromsteve.com or whatever it was, so be wary of all Steves, ladies.
John Henry Patterson was born in Dayton so that’s where he founded the National Cash Register Company, or NCR. The shrewd CEO enjoyed firing and rehiring his employees, and he famously fired his sales manager, Thomas Watson Sr., who went on to run International Business Machines, or IBM. Both men were sentenced to one year in prison for committing white-collar crimes and both were pardoned by President Woodrow Wilson because of their humanitarian work after Dayton’s Great Flood of 1913. There were rumors that Patterson choked women. In June 2009, after announcing that NCR HQ would be moved to Georgia, current CEO Bill Nuti wrote this to his employees: “The decision to consolidate functions in Georgia and build a corporate headquarters campus focused on innovation is in line with our business strategy to drive growth, improve our innovation output, increase productivity and continually upgrade our focus on the customer. In addition, we will decrease time-to-market for innovative solutions, improve our internal collaboration, deliver next generation employee education programs and lower our current operating costs.” And: “As we look forward, NCR needs to align itself for future growth and drive the lowest cost structure in our industry.” And: “During the month of July, HR will work with affected employees and managers as we transition to our new innovation center.” There haven’t been any rumors RE Bill Nuti choking women. We can’t say for sure whether or not Bill Nuti chokes women.
Not enough people die in New Akron to support a full-time coroner so all the dead bodies, and sometimes the dying bodies, come to me, the only respectable doctor in New Akron County. I receive around ten bodies a year. Most of them are dead from heart attacks or car crashes. Or ATV crashes. It can be boring work, but it can also be thrilling: On July 2, 2001, there was an ATV crash caused by a heart attack and a young couple ended up dying in my basement. But that sort of thrill is rare around here so I was delighted when Officer Carr called me last night about an unidentified body found floating in the 2nd Best River. “It’s a young woman,” he said. “Like, high school age. We’ll be over with the corpse in a minute.” Typically when someone says they’ll be over in a minute they’re lying, but in this case Officer Carr was correct. See, I live on Fronz Island, which is in the middle of the 2nd Best River and a minute-long boat ride from where they found the body. (If you’re curious as to why the river is the called the 2nd Best River it’s because Charles Error, New Akron’s founding father, thought the river just north of town was the best river he’d ever seen and named it the Best River and didn’t bother naming the river on the south side of town because it displeased him for reasons lost to history. Only later, through word of mouth, did it come to be known as the 2nd Best River. I am of the opinion that the 2nd Best River is actually the best river, but I suppose I’m biased because I live and work on an island in it.)
Summer ‘04 was all about Annie Tigger, the most whatever girl in Zanesville. She’d say, I’m gonna spend my whole life swimming in the Muskingum River, and I’m sure she would have if her dad hadn’t kept her in that shed all day dyeing tie-dye T-shirts. She hated those shirts. Once the shirts were dry she’d have to take photos of her pretty sister Jess wearing them and post the photos and a few lines of snappy copy on TiggerTDs.com. She also handled shipping and customer care. When she felt like it she’d write a note on a shirt’s tag, like: “Love everything or you’ll be sorry” and “Boyz rule the world but girlz have all the fun.” The shirt she gave me had the URL and password of her filthy, password-protected LiveJournal which, like TiggerTDs.com, has since been taken offline.
