The view from our Friday night hotel in Covington, Kentucky.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend…
If you’ve been following along in real time rather than discovering this website months or years down the road, I realize the numbering might seem confusing. The events of our first four chapters (i.e., our scenic walking tour of Oldenburg) took place hours before Stewart’s gig, which is now retroactively Part Five of our tale. Going back and editing that entry’s title would wreak havoc behind the scenes, so we’re all going to have to live with that discrepancy, like when you’ve bought six books in a seven-part series but end up completing the set with a mismatched edition of the seventh from a years-later reissue in the wrong size, font, design and cover painter. I’ll cope if you will.
Anyway. Cincinnati’s cozy location on the banks of the Ohio River across from a few Kentucky cities meant we had hospitality options in two different states. Same as had happened with Cincinnati Comics Expo two weeks prior, the Kentucky side offered more favorable pricing within our preferred hotel chain. Whereas for the Expo we’d stayed in Newport (near their excellent aquarium, which we visited with my son in a previous decade), this time we chose Covington, which offered an option less than two miles from Stewart’s hosts.
The Clay Wade Bailey Bridge (named after a renowned Kentucky reporter) connected the two states and ended two blocks from our hotel. We crossed it six times this weekend.
The daytime version of our hotel window view.
Roadside attractions include this giant whiskey bottle down the street.
We had time for a few minutes’ rest in our hotel before we had to be at the gig. As with all Star Trek-related special occasions, we anticipated a long line and knew we’d need to arrive early, especially since seats were first-come-first-served, not reserved. We didn’t have much margin left for sightseeing beforehand, but a few convenient curiosities popped up in our path.
An Ohio state salute to President William Henry Harrison. We’ve previously seen his old house and work-from-home office, his most famous battlefield, and his gravesite outside Cincy.
Cincinnati has dozens of pig statues around town, including this one saluting, of course, Hamlet.
Pig-pun ring around the collar.
The School for Creative and Performing Arts had their own pig inside, this one winged.
…
Saturday morning after the delightful Patrick Stewart Q&A, we fetched breakfast in downtown Cincy from Taste of Belgium, which was founded in 2007 by an actual Belgian chef and now has ten locations in the Ohiotucky region. As the name would suggest, they know a thing or two about making dessert for breakfast.
Their location in the zone called “The Banks” was two miles and one river crossing from our hotel.
Down the street as Paycor Stadium, home of the Cincinnati Bengals. The whole area is a special district that levies extra taxes on all neighboring businesses to pay for them. The Colts have an arrangement like that here in Indy, except the entire city has to pay it, not just the one neighborhood.
For me, their Over the Top Waffle, topped with lemon curd, strawberries, blueberries, maple ricotta whipped cream, and black pepper nuts.
Our first time trying goetta, which combines beef with oatmeal. It’s…well, it’s different.
For Anne, their Salted Caramel Apple Crepe. Because autumn.
We also bought snacks to-go: a snickerdoodle cookie and three of their Dipped Waffles — maple walnut, dark chocolate glazed, and white chocolate glazed with chocolate shavings.
Downtown streetside parking was free on weekends anyway, so we figured why not do a little more trotting-about before we left. One problem: Friday had been an unseasonably sunny day, no jackets required and conducive to wearing shorts. By Saturday the temperature had plummeted into the 40s and subjected us to the full force of autumn in the Midwest. In our planning we’d been so focused on Friday’s weather that we’d packed no contingency accessories in the event that Saturday pulled this sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde act on us. We consequently hadn’t brought jackets and froze more than a little, especially me in my shorts. Taste of Belgium had had plenty of open parking spaces across the street (all of which were full by the time we left), but the more deeply we wandered downtown, the less fun we were having in the bitter air.
Nevertheless, we collected a few more art-based memories before we retreated to my heated car and left town. This was by no means our first visit to Cincy, or even our first gander at some of their collection of murals — rather, they’re additions to our collection from years past.
The Contemporary Art Center wasn’t open yet, but we could say hi to the 27-foot-tall Metrobot, built in 1988 by Nam June Paik.
I was inexplicably amused at how this alley ended with a Frisch’s Big Boy sign.
Murals we collected along the way included Paul Boehle’s The Buzz Around Town, a tribute to the National Spelling Bee’s 90th anniversary in 2017.
A portion of Benjamin Thomas’ Rule the Jungle, in honor of the aforementioned Bengals.
Eduardo Kobra’s Armstrong honors Best Astronaut Ever, who was born in Wapakoneta, Ohio.
Armstrong‘s upper-right corner reveals a very different pair of airborne travelers, one of whom has definitely seen some space.
This one feels less like a mural and more like a hand-wave to visiting tourists, but it’s big and painted and we’re including it.
After checking out of our hotel, we stopped for one last bit of tourism along I-75 North: the McDonald’s where the Filet-O-Fish was invented. Yes, it actually had a birthplace outside Oak Brook’s food-science labs. At last we former employees of the Golden Arches could learn about the franchisee who came up with this deep-fried beef alternative that would become a godsend for millions of Catholic fast-food customers every Lent for the next six decades and beyond. We’ve passed its interstate exit countless times over the years and had no idea it was a thing.
This single sign is the entire Filet-O-Fish exhibit. Anne apologized immediately to the woman after taking the shot.
…and thus concludes the saga of of What We Did for Anne’s Birthday This Year Out of Town. For the complete Absolutely Everything We Did for Anne’s Birthday Week This Year, the more fanatical reader is invited to (re)visit our experiences with this year’s Heartland International Film Festival, linked below and in our minds linked to the festivities.
Otherwise: The End. Thanks for reading! Lord willing, we’ll see you next birthday…or even see you previous birthday, since I never got around to posting how we spent my own birthday weekend this year. (It’s on the to-do list.)
Other chapters in this very special miniseries:
- Part 1: Two Lunches at Brau Haus
- Part 2: Welcome to Oldenburg
- Part 3: The Hydrants of Oldenburg
- Part 4: Antiquing Practice
- Part 5: Admiral Picard’s Personal Log: Star Trek Fans Welcome Patrick Stewart’s Memoir Tour to Cincinnati
- Coda: Our Heartland International Film Festival 2023 Photos, Memories and Afterthoughts
Yes, There’s a Scene After the October 2023 Birthday Trip End Credits: as they’d promised but over a week after the fact, Joseph-Beth Booksellers finally posted their pics from the event. Look closely and you can find my head! Alas, Anne the birthday gal is blocked by tall people.
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Wow! What a great entry of MCC! and, as always, my thanks for your writing of it and sharing of it w/the world!
I’d also like to wish a belated happy birthday to Anne and to you and, indeed, to Mr. Neil Armstrong who was born in Wapakoneta and not Waoakoneta as you have indicated in the caption to the first photograph of Eduardo Kobra’s Armstrong.
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Ah, but what if Waoakoneta were the original spelling, and in fact “Wapakoneta” were white intruders’ half-hearted approximation because three vowels in a row frightened and confused them? This is all false, but WHAT IF? Then I’d be a heroic revealer of buried secrets!
Ah, if only. Fixed now. Thanks as always!
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