I'll miss Cincinnati. Well, OK, maybe "miss" is a bit strongly stated. My arteries could certainly stand a break from the gourmet cuisine here in America's Greaseland. An abundance of fine culinary establishments offer beef, beef, or beef. For vegetarians (tourists) they offer pork and chicken. Everything is deep fried in extra fatty lard. Hell,
I think they deep fry it twice just to make sure–apparently some sort of deal they've worked out with the cardiac units of hospitals or the health spas. If you happen to be one of those nutty health-spa nutritional-sorta conservative eaters, you can get yer vegetables, deep fried of course... and you think I'm kidding. Just in case any blood is still flowing to your vital organs, you can order andoulian (whatever that means, probably German for grease) sausage cheddar mashed potatoes with gravy as a side item- honest. Mind you, all of this is coming from yours truly–an epicurean not–but I'll now eat at McDonald's
with newfound pride in my health. The culinary aesthetics here in Cincinnati seem rather impressive, though, when considering the aesthetic appeal of the predominant architecture.
The architects seem to have taken their artistic directives from Soviet-bloc countries of the 1950's–they must have had a sale on the blueprints. The multitudes of rainbow colors range the gamut from grey to brown. When walking around downtown, one gets the sense of going back in time to a happier, McCarthyistic era. I became convinced I had
better conceal my political inclinations from all other pedestrians, lest Cincinnati still have any had any anti-communist laws on the books. I'll bet the city drafted those laws when someone finally woke up. "Hey, we've been duped! Look at all of our buildings...they more ugly than over-sized toilet rolls. Why those commie bastards
ripped us off when they sold us those blueprints!"
Apparently, some folks have had enough of this drabness. There are several funky clothing stores that put anything offered in San Fran's Haight district to shame. Offering silk and velvet shirts and pants in pastels and neons, rainbow zoot suits, and tie-dyed alligator shoes, the prices befit the budgets and refined tastes of professional athletes
and pimps. Judging from the size of the clothing, which ranges from a small of 1X (XL) to a large of 5X (that's extra-extra-extra-extra-extra-large for the mathematically impaired), I'd say they are catering to the athletes... although, I suppose a more
few side orders of the andoulian mashed potatoes and I'll no longer be able to fit into my new, neon, silk shirt-size XL.