The Old Washington Park

Late on a weekday evening I hear drunks singing, bottles breaking, an intermittent crazed scream and loud voices bragging and cursing. People have moved the park benches from the pathways of Washington Park into the grass to create living rooms of a sort amongst the brown grass and cracked clay soil of this unusually hot and dry October. In these gathering spots, and along the perimeter, there is a late night party every day. Every day, till long past midnight.

Since Bang's closed it is now at least a 2 block walk to buy junk food or liquor. Some entrepreneurial women have running an black market pony keg out of their SUV every day for the past month, selling pop and snacks, all the while smoking pot and dancing. Their patrons leave litter everywhere and the rat population is exploding.

When walking back here from a trip downtown, it is shocking at the depravity, the litter and even the plain darkness of the streets around the park. It is the last throes of the old park. The maintenance man still comes every day to sweep up and empty all the cans, but it seems like a token gesture of upkeep. No one is maintaining the grass, re-arranging the benches or locking the toilets at night. No one is really policing the place either. It feels like everyone is just gave up and is letting things go. Why try to improve a place that is scheduled to be completely under construction next month? Let the people throw one last month-long drunk party in the park, ...then close it up.

Thankfully it has not been violent. The atmosphere is mostly jovial.

I hear that the Drop Inn Center has become more restrictive on who they admit, and in a month or so it will be cold and rainy, and heavy machinery will take over much of the park. Then what? Some people drive here for the party, so I assume there is an apartment of some kind at the other parking space. But others here are at the bottom, with absolutely nothing to their name. When the weather gets colder, yes I will selfishly appreciate the quiet. But will my peace come at the painful cost of some of these poor souls? Come December the only warm these guys may have will be in their memories. Memories of this unusually hot October, when they sang and drank until late into the night.

You Your Beer and How Great You Are

Good weather means intoxication in Washington Park. Oftentimes it is the kind of drinking that leads to much bravado and shouting. A group of 5 or six people are sitting on a park bench quietly, when all of a sudden, one of them will start yelling, cursing and sometimes slugging one of the others. These fights are usually just one person hitting, and the other person just crouching down covering their head with their arms. The hitting will end, but then the real yelling begins. It is usually something like "why you walking away?" ... " You come over here and say that.." "No, you come over here.." "Don't you give me no %##.."

From my sober perspective, it is all very pitiful. If someone spends all day drinking and doing a lot of nothing, then they aren't likely to feel very good about themselves, and thus their ego is easily bruised.

As I type this at 1:30AM, another loud fight is erupting. This time it is two completely belligerent woman yelling at a cop. I think he stopped to tell them the park is closed and they are saying that they are outside the park now on the sidewalk, "so leave us the f**k alone". They're calling him all types of curse words and getting in his face, getting real worked up and emotional. The cop is alone and stays pretty calm. Eventually, he drives away and they curse at him some more. Now the heavier woman is sitting down with her head in her hands crying. Her friend lights a cigarette and sits down quietly next to her.

Talking with a new neighbor last week, he asked why alcohol was legal in the parks here. He is a transplant and asked the question honestly. "Its not!" I said. "Then why is it allowed to occur so blatantly?" I couldn't explain at the time, but the recent scene outside is a clue.

Don't Use License Plate

A local church hosts meetings of Narcotics Anonymous, and although they take up all the parking on the street for an hour, 3 times a week, it's worth it to see addicts on the sober wagon. I see this plate every meeting day:
 

Overheard Tonight

Man: "Go away, your drunk!"

Woman: "I ain't drunk. I ain't never been drunk. ...I like to get intoxicated, but I ain't never been drunk."

OTR Manhattan

I was reading The 25 Things Tag, and one particular item caught my eye...

"23. I like to drink a Manhattan after a long day."

And I got to thinking, "That makes sense, what else would a 'CityKin' drink but a Manhattan?" It has been called the king of cocktails—strong, urbane, and simple.

Made famous by Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack, it originated at the Manhattan Club in New York City in the early 1870s, where it was invented for a banquet hosted by Jennie Jerome (Lady Randolph Churchill, Winston's mother) in honor of presidential candidate Samuel J. Tilden. The success of the banquet made the drink fashionable, later prompting several people to request the drink by referring to the name of the club where it originated — "the Manhattan cocktail."

Mnahattans include whiskey, sweet vermouth, ice, and bitters. Commonly used whiskeys are rye (traditional choice), Canadian, Bourbon and Tennessee. Proportions of whiskey to vermouth vary, from a very sweet 1:1 ratio to a much less sweet 4:1 ratio. The cocktail is often stirred with ice and strained into a cocktail glass, where it is garnished with a stemmed Maraschino cherry. A Manhattan is also frequently served on the rocks in a lowball glass.

Bitters are frequently omitted from a Manhattan unless specifically requested; however purists maintain that bitters are required to offset the sweetness of the whiskey and vermouth. Using more vermouth and less whiskey to create a less potent Manhattan may actually make the drink taste stronger because of the intense flavor of sweet red vermouth.

Here are some other variations on the classic Manhattan:

Rob Roy-made with Scotch whisky.
Dry Manhattan-dry vermouth instead of sweet, served with a twist.
Perfect Manhattan-equal parts sweet and dry vermouth.
Brandy Manhattan-brandy rather than rye.
Metropolitan-3-to-1 ratio of cognac or brandy to vermouth.
Cuban Manhattan-Perfect Manhattan, dark rum not whiskey.
Latin Manhattan-equal parts white rum, sweet and dry vermouth, and a splash of Maraschino cherry juice, served up with a twist.
Womanhattan-1 part grenadine, 2 parts rye, with a twist.
Uptown Manhattan-typically named for an establishment's
special touches, usually a more expensive whiskey.
SoCoMan (Southern Comfort Manhattan)-Southern Comfort with dry vermouth, as using sweet vermouth with Southern Comfort would often be considered an overdose of sweet; however, some people still like these made with sweet vermouth, as that is the tradition for a Manhattan.

Perhaps we could persuade CityKin to share his special recipe in the comments. Local clubs could make it a house specialty, the OTR Manhattan.

Where in Cincy is this Painting?

come on, name this west-side establishment:

 

UPDATE:
Drew of Drew-O-Rama answered named my quiz photo quite fast:

We had a good time with the kids at Cancun and then bowling:

Flashing Flag Pins:

Hoinke Classic Winners:

Erwin Hoinke Pin Presented at Hotel Gibson, March 17, 1945:

UPDATE: here are some scanned images, Western Bowl and Hoinke Classic:

Why Call the Police?

I called the police an hour ago. Eight people were sharing a crack pipe on the sidewalk across the street from my window. I see lawbreakers everyday, but I don't call the police that often. After 10 minutes or so the dealer ambled away. The others stared into space, mumbled and left one at a time, leaving only two, quietly talking. No police. They did their drugs and didn't harm anyone, except themselves. At least not tonight. Is it worth even calling? I'm not even sure the stuff should be illegal. Should I call if someone is smoking pot? What if it was wine, malt liquor or littering? I think the police would rightly laugh if I called on a litterer.

The last time I remember calling the police, a guy was punching his girlfriend. Now that is a clear reason to call. That time I also inserted myself into the situation, by yelling at the guy before calling the police. Tonight, I could have just called out the window to the people to go away, and they probably would. They weren't looking for trouble.

I've had neighbors move, because they just couldn't stomach the ugliness they saw. One neighbor, who I think was studying to become an pediatrician, said he had to leave after seeing a pregnant woman shooting up in the alley outside his window.


Last Friday, some volunteer group completely cleaned-up Washington Park. A bunch of people came, and spread mulch, picked-up litter and made the place look spiffy. Sunday evening, I walked diagonally across the park to take pictures of the demolition at the corner of 12th and Elm, and it was striking how manicured the place looked. Also striking was that at several benches, groups of people sat drinking out of paper bags, and they were surrounded by all kinds of litter that they had discarded as they sat and drank. Should people be ticketed for littering?

Littering and drinking in public doesn't really bother me that much. The Park Board has a guy who cleans up the litter in the park everyday. And, the city comes by at least once a week and sweeps the streets and sometimes the sidewalks. I am more disturbed by loud music at 6:30 AM like we had yesterday. A small group of people were standing by a car, the doors open with a loud stereo, dancing to the music with beer cans in their hands. At 6:30 AM!

There are NA meetings 3 times a week right next door. There are dozens of churches here. There is a Homeless Shelter with a drug treatment program, right across the street. It seems that there are people ready to offer support if you want to get on the wagon.

Is it better that a drug addict be in jail or on the street? Or forced sobriety? Do we need more room at the CCAT? Or more "supportive housing"?

As I type this, I am hearing the street-sweeper coming down the street. I guess it will look clean again in the morning.

...Finally, the police pull up. They talk to the two remaining guys. They end up taking one guy to jail on a capias. Before he gets into the cruiser, he asks the last remaining guy to take his bike somewhere safe. End of night.

End of the Day

Kids asleep, dishes cleaned, laundry folded. Wife is working the night shift. I fix a drink and sit in the window and look at the street. A few people sit on the wall by the sidewalk murmuring around the division of whatever drug they do these days. Not quite raining, it is misting, and the dark shapes of the northern hills are scattered with dozens of house lights. Two decrepit church towers are darker shadows breaking the view of the hills. It is a beautiful sad night to reflect on the day. The radio tower rises into the mist. To the south, the clouds glow by the light of downtown towers. Wet car tires pass every minute or so.

Now the group down below has broken up. Only a mumbling man and loud woman remain. Woman says "...nahh..you suck my pu.. first man, you want me to suck you di... mouthfull of .... you a goddamn liar...mother f.. " After a few minutes of back and forth they make amends and stroll down the street together.

Highway white noise and the squeal of the train switch yard in the distance. More mist, almost rain now. A voice calls down the last bus. "hey hey"

Next comes a white guy with a gravelly voice and a big pack on his back. He is with a younger woman in a studded leather jacket, shaved head and they argue about going to the Drop or getting a drink. She's walking backwards in front of him waiving her arms, leading him south.. instead of east. He's ready to call it a night. "..heavy pack, man".

Rain stops. Just a thick fog now, but still the sound of water everywhere, dripping off leaves, down gutters, under footsteps.