Weekend Recap: Cincinnati/Louisville Visit

Sorry I've been MIA. I know both of you were hoping to read about my trip last week. It was my fourth trip in six weeks, so I was finally a little wiped out and I've been sick a few days now. But I'm feeling better now, thank you very much, so here are some details:

Thursday, Oct. 2 -- Landed in Dayton and once again my midsize car-rental reservation was "upgraded" to a Jeep Liberty. I felt like a sissy, but the vehicle would come in handy later.

Drove down to Cincinnati and prepped for my speech at my college alma mater, the University of Cincinnati. I spoke to about 40 people, most of them students. I began my presentation at about 6:30 p.m., and talked about what I do, new media, covering the conventions and of course my arrest at the RNC. I also showed some video clips from both conventions and took questions throughout. It lasted two hours before things broke up into a short hello period, and I was out the door a little after 9 p.m.

One thing I was pleased to have gotten off my chest was an apology nearly 15 years in the making. When I got an internship right after college, my first project required me to solicit area businesses for gift donations for a promotion we were having. I got more than I needed, so guess who's pocket the UC-UK football tickets and Lexington hotel rooms went in?

My boys and me probably would have gotten away with it if one of them would have cleaned up after throwing up in his room. He told me he threw up as our three-car caravan was pulled over on the side of Interstate 75 on a Sunday morning ... with two of our guys ... throwing up. There may have been some drinking involved.

Anyway, word got back to my unofficial UC mentor, Jon C. Hughes. And the next time I called him for advice or a request for him to put a good word in somewhere, he called me out for that. I felt terrible, and until last Thursday, hadn't seen him since. So in front of this crowd of young, impressionable minds, I came forth with a sincere apology, and he politely claimed he didn't remember it, but was thankful nonetheless.

Hughes also was the one responsible for me using my middle initial in my byline the last 15 years. When you have monosyllabic first and last names, as he and I both do, he said you're more likely to be remembered if you break up your boring name with that middle initial. Consequently, some have thought of me as arrogant, while others have called me by a variety of names: JP, John P, JPW, JP Wise, P Wise and sometimes even, just P.

Anyway, I was going to stick around and watch the VP debate with the group, but instead I had to hit The Avenue Lounge to talk logistics about my photography show the next night.

Of course after meeting with the bar's very cool owner, Richard, I met up with old dude Chad (pictured here in 2007) in Covington for a couple pops.

Friday, Oct. 3 -- I spent much of the day setting up at The Avenue. I should have taken a picture of the wall before and after. When I got there in the morning, that huge "The Pad" sign was on the brick wall. The Pad is the name of the strip club that once called The Avenue's location home years ago. It is obviously no longer a strip club.

But by mid-afternoon, I had eight 20x24 frames hanged on the wall where that sign was, and of course I had a bunch of other matted prints available for sale.

The event was a good one. Good friends showed up, the bar was crowded and I sold a fair amount of pieces. Even rifle-toting Local12 reporter and all-around nice guy Rich Jaffe attended, despite having been bitten by a raccoon just hours earlier. Rich, handy with a gun from his years of being an avid hunter, gave me a slick confirmation when I asked if he killed the raccoon, which minutes earlier had attacked the Jaffes' dog. "Oh, yeah, I killed it," he said proudly, his left hand wrapped in gauze.

Also showing up were good friends Guy and Amanda van Rooyen. While I was content to hang with friends on the outside patio, Amanda said to me, "For someone who's as people-friendly as you are, you're terrible at sales." She's right. And as a result, she's asked me to promise to let her do some marketing and planning -- perhaps some selling -- next time I have a show. Stay tuned for my upcoming holiday sales drive. Perhaps Amanda will force you to buy something.

It was also good to connect with a bunch of gals from my UC days, just a week before Homecoming. I wish I could go back this weekend, as those wacky Tri-Delts seem to have some fun stuff lined up. My hair hasn't receded too terribly and I don't have a gut, so maybe I should still think about a last-minute flight. Perhaps I could rock the shelf haircut, my soccer sweatshirt and some pegged jeans and use awful lines on Kim Roberts, among others.

Saturday, Oct. 4 -- The first half of this day sucked. I spent several hours breaking everything down, re-wrapping the framed pieces and re-packing them in the boxes. Then, I drove them over to the van Rooyens' house, where they will remain until my next show in that area. Thanks, Guy and Amanda! And thanks also to Dollar Rent-A-Car for the upgrade. That Liberty was helpful in allowing me to transport those larger boxes.

I finally checked out of my hotel and got on the road to Louisville at about 4:30 p.m. I was headed to John Boel's house to watch the OSU-Wisconsin game. I'm a Bucks guy and he's a Wisconsin native and die-hard Badgers fan.

I stopped and picked up one of those 5-liter mini kegs of Coors Light. Emphasis on the word "mini," as we killed that thing I think before the game even started.

A handful of old friends showed up, Boel grilled some brats and there was way too much beer available. Mike D. showed up with a sixer of Rhinelander for $1.99. "As soon as I walked into the store, I saw a sign for a 12-pack of Rhinelander for $3.99," said Mike D., who as long as I've known him has been adept at finding great beer bargains. When I relayed his quote to my friend Pat the next day, he said, "Why didn't he buy the whole 12-pack?" Good question.

After Boel's gathering, I rolled back to St. Matthews and met up with some friends at Brendan's, where things continued to get ugly.

Sunday, Oct. 5 -- If you're 38 and you have to play flag football early on a Sunday morning, make sure you wake enough with enough time to re-hydrate, drive to the location and stretch. I did none of these things. After rolling out of bed at 10:45 a.m., getting in the Liberty 10 minutes later and arriving for the 11 a.m. game at about 11:15 a.m., I was rushed into the starting lineup because of my combination of speed and athleticism.

But about five minutes in, something happened to my lower left back and I wasn't quite the same player. Instead of being quietly mediocre, I was a glaring non-factor. A little while after the back injury, the inside of my upper left leg -- not my groin or quad or hammy; I have no idea what muscle this was -- started to get pretty sore. And this was before my one touch of the game where I caught a pass and gained about 20 yards when I thought I'd run for about 80 actually.

OK, so I'm out of shape and that game sucked, but the rest of the day was outstanding. My boy Pat and me rolled down to the very well-known St. James Court Art Show in old Louisville, then up to Wick's for the world's best pizza and a few beers. The most gorgeous friend I have, Alli, came up to say hello for an hour or two with her girlfriend Kaci, and before I knew it, it was, well, later, and I was once again overserved.

Monday, Oct. 6 -- Drove to Dayton to fly back home and by the time I got to the airport, it was clear I was going to be sick for a few days. Traveling is great, for sure, but I'd hate to do it for a living. I'd been in airports and on airplanes more weekends than not the last 40 days, and I'd finally picked up enough germs to slow me down.

So I've spent much of this week pounding chicken soup and orange juice, and looking forward to catching up on sleep this weekend. And once I recover, you can bet your ass I'm putting the running shoes back on, because being old and out of shape sucks.

Weekend Review

Had a bittersweet Saturday morning as an old friend was visiting from out-of-town. One minute, I was listening to a voice mail from old dude John Charlton about how he seems ready to buy my car that I've been spending $360 a month on for the last two years as it sits unused in my mom's driveway in Cleveland. What a relief that could turn out to be.

But the next minute, Mom's calling to tell me that Mike has cancer. I think I'm aware of plenty of those who regularly read this blog, and let's just say I don't think they're the church-going type. But for anyone else who might be prone to pray, please say what's up and ask for some love for my stepdad, Mike Evansa. He begins six weeks of five-times-a-week radiation treatments next Monday. Thank you.

Including the weekend and other goings-on lately, here are some recent visits:

+ Haru
+ PJ Clarke's
+ The Auction House
+ The Pig and Whistle
+ Lattanzi

Tried to step into Becco in the theater district, but they were complete a-holes before the door could even close behind my incredibly firm ass. We were sent packing. Not cool.

And some recent rentals:

+ The TV Set -- Very good movie, sometimes comical, on the evolution of a television show from pilot to air.
+ Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room -- Good documentary on the Enron collapse.
+ This Film Is Not Yet Rated -- Good documentary on how movies get their ratings, which is a secretive and sometimes inconsistent process.
+ So Goes The Nation -- Good documentary on the 2004 campaign, shot mostly in the great state of Ohio.
+ The Lives Of Others -- Excellent.

Monday at work, we did a story about how Americans are not getting enough sleep, and it affects their work. I'm certainly one of those people, having to work every morning at 5 a.m. But pay close attention to the supermodel when you look at the image in this story.

Weekend Review

Sorry it's a little tardy this week.

Old college roommate and all-around great friend and good dude Dave was in town last weekend. His lovely bride of nearly 10 years Allison also was aboard. They lived here some years back, in fact pretty close to where I live now on the Upper East Side.

We had plans to hit the Guggenheim for First Friday. I've made a decent contact there this year who's been sweet to put my name on the media list, but something always comes up. This time, it was Dave's and Allison's nap.

Not to worry, as I met them at Becco, a pretty hot Italian joint near the Midtown West area. I think it's better to say "near Midtown West," than to say, "the West Side near Times Square." Yuck.

Eighteen months up in this piece and I'm already a New York snob.

After dinner there, we rolled back over to the East Side for a couple of beers at my new fave bar, P.J. Clarke's. If I hear correctly, this bar used to be a hangout for 1970s mobsters.

Saturday was just another day at Blondie's, watching the Bucks improve to 10-0.

But Sunday, typically an uneventful day for me, proved to be outstanding. Old dude Troy had Knicks floor seats for their home opener against Minnesota. We sat in the second row behind the basket, right behind two New York Rangers -- goalie Henrik Lundqvist and winger Sean Avery (pictured, right here above) -- and their dates, one of whom was hot. The other gal looked more like someone I'd see walking to Wal-Mart in the far east suburbs of Cincinnati -- or the south end of Louisville (lest I forget to offend all my Midwest peoples) -- not next to a millionaire stud NHL player. The tattoo right above her ass crack said "Lola," but it just as easily could have read, "Cracked-out Euro ho."

Steve Schirripa (way up there, top left), better known as Bobby Baclava from "The Sopranos," wasn't too far from us, and Chris Rock, seated down the sideline next to David Duchovny, covered his face when I tried to take a picture of him from about 30 yards away.

After the game, Troy and I walked back to O'Reilly's Pub, where we'd had a beer before the game. On the way there, Troy and I struck up a conversation with some gal walking next to us. She said something rude to Troy, so I said something rude to her. Then she made a face, looked at me and said, "Oh my God, dude, you're so southern." I think she meant that as an insult, but a minute later, Troy and I had a beer in front of us, so we talked to the darling hostess for a half hour and then booked.

Pretty rare for me to be out on a schoolnight like that, but I did it again on Monday. New friend Kristen was in town on business, and we planned for me to meet her after I got out of work at 2 p.m. at Capital Grille. I figured this would be a one-drink afternoon and some good conversation, but the next thing I know, I'm calling it a night at 11ish -- correct, no nap on Monday! -- after we'd also found our way to Tonic and P.J. Clarke's again, before sushi at Haru.

Weekend Recap

I'm too tired to give a full recap on my Ohio/Kentucky visit, but not much exciting to report anyway. So here are a few short tidbits:

+ This guy is a genius.

Jason is an old friend of mine and I'm lucky to say we've kind of reconnected over the last year or two. Write down his name on a piece of paper and put it away somewhere. Then, in a few years, when he's huge, you'll say you heard about him before he got there. His Web site is cool, but it does no justice to his paintings, which, when you see them in person, will make you question everything. I visited his home studio on Thursday night and was amazed at his talent.

+ Our boy Barry also was in town over the weekend. He displayed great courage by saying, "Screw this," and packed everything up to move to San Francisco nearly three years ago. He too has some big things ahead, but I can't divulge them here.

+ Jason took Barry and I to his neighborhood joint Hoggies for some hangover food on Friday. Yes, it's called Hoggies. That's enough on that.

+ My art show went well Friday night. Thanks to the many of you who wished me well or showed up or asked how it went. Thanks to gallery owner Nancy Stephens for hosting me. And thanks also to those who made purchases. I enjoy receiving money, especially if it means you're putting something up on your wall that I created.

+ Later, walking up to meet friends at a bar, a gal was standing outside of it so as to inhale a cigarette, so we began to chat. I typically don't like being around cigarettes, but just like any other man of strong will and principle, I talked to this one because she was hot. Her immature male friend, standing inside the doorway, thought he'd play the role of stand-up comedian for their friends and gyrate in front of the windowed-front door and make fun of my shirt that I was wearing a little more open than most men wear theirs. It's funny; I've gone with the open shirt for about five years now, and the only place where people aren't comfortable with it is in Cincinnati. I used to be quite critical of Cincinnati, but after a couple of positive visits the last 12 months, I've relaxed that view some. After all, I did spend 14 years there, so there certainly are many good friendships that I cherish. But it's also the only city where a few friends are former friends. That city loves its judgmentalism, as well as its grudges. And its light-colored blue jeans, brown shoes and plaid buttondowns from The Gap, and if you're a male wearing something else in Cincinnati, there is something seriously wrong with you. It's weakly comical.

So after funny guy was done showing Brittany that he viewed me as a threat to blow up his spot, she and I walked in and had a drink together. Jason and I talked to her and her hot friend Caitlyn for the entire time we were there. Except for the five minutes I spent recovering from when Jason hit me in the balls. For the most part, though, just some good, old-fashioned conversation.

+ I'm glad I paid for a nice hotel room that I returned to at 9 a.m. so I could sleep until 11 a.m. That was the deal Saturday, before I rolled over to Tom and Margie's to shoot their 10-week-old baby Ella. Then over to Guy and Amanda's to shoot their 3-week-old baby Reese. I haven't yet closely examined my shots, but something tells me I'm far from a portrait guy.

+ Drove my rented Impala down to Louisville, where the social turnout was surprisingly disappointing at Brendan's on Saturday night. Perhaps Cincinnatians aren't the only ones with a grudge!

+ But it was certainly excellent to see this guy. John Boel has become one of my best friends in recent years, partly because he's the kind of guy who will go to Dutch's in Louisville to watch his beloved Green Bay Packers by himself on a Sunday and order a pitcher of beer and just one plastic cup.

+ Sunday was boring except for the gathering at Ben's crib, where I drank a few beers, ate lots of food and watched the Tribe lose Game Three to the Yankees.

I guess that was a full recap. You may wake up now.

Places Visited This Weekend

+ 'Ino -- Entree and wine were fine, as was dessert, but I seriously think I had the best salad ever. Dried prosciutto chunks made the romaine salad with pancetta and cucumber outstanding. Small, dark joint with candles, good crowd and cool music was great for a date.

+ Little Branch -- Kept it in the West Village for a post-dinner drink, and this place was pretty cool. Too bad I ruined the vibe by telling Frenchie a bad story that she had no interest in hearing. Nonetheless, this is a cool spot that serves specialty cocktails over large ice blocks to keep from diluting the beverage. But take a fat wallet; it's a cash only joint.

+ The Coffee Shop -- It's hard not to like a place that is conveniently located, serves great brunch for cheap prices, employs and attracts quite pretty people and plays great music. The first few times I visited were for weekend drinks, but today was the second straight Sunday I'd had brunch there, and I think I'll be heading back next week.

+ Haru -- My first trip to Haru Sushi won't be my last. It's within walking distance, the food and atmosphere are excellent and our bill was smaller than the one at The Coffee Shop. Go there now!

Weekend Recap

Places visited this weekend:

+ Lunasa

+ Dempsey's Pub

+ Dream Hotel

+ McAleer's Pub

+ Trinity Pub

Weekend Recap

I had a couple of beers on Thursday night, so I stayed in on Friday and figured I'd begin a project that was long overdue.

I'm a notoriously cluttery person. Piles of paper and junk and notes from unfinished projects and things I say I'm gonna need at some point in the next seven years. Despite an average of one move every 18 months over the last decade, one thing that has -- for better or worse -- not gotten left behind is my clutter.

I seriously say things like this to myself when deciding whether to hold onto something: I'd better save that article my mom sent me in 1999. I seriously might consider this type of walking shoe someday.

So I went through my file cabinet and shredded about 10 pounds of paper that was no longer important. And just when I felt like I was about two-thirds of the way through the effort, I put in a movie. Such a move only makes sense for someone who's as incapable of finishing projects as I've always been.

Netflix sent me "Letters From Iwo Jima," which was outstanding.

Saturday was quite productive. I don't think I told you that last weekend I finally got my ass over to the Met and set up shop. I didn't sell a ton of my art, but I did sell a few pieces, and did some networking and PR as well, all on a lovely Saturday afternoon.

And I thought about going back just this past Saturday, but I instead finished the shredding, ran some important errands and finally played ball for the first time since I've been up here.

The scene of a summer afternoon in Central Park was just as I'd pictured, lots of ballplayers, walkers, bikers and the smell of marijuana and Colt 45 near the basketball courts.

My neighbor Joe is a big kid, and we rolled down to the park at about 4. It was so packed that we finally got on about an hour later, and after a one-point loss, would have had to have waited three more games, so we just packed up and split.

Sarah from work had her birthday party later at Keats' karaoke bar near Grand Central Station. I'm not a karaoke guy, so I just sat back and had a couple beers early.

I then left to meet Carolyn at my new favorite bar, The Auction House. It's the rare New York bar with an Upper East Side address but without pretention or a college crowd. It offers good, loungey music and velvet couches, a dimly lit ambience and a surprisingly decent prices.

Getting back to the inability to finish projects . . . I got my mom one of those digital photo frames for Christmas, and when it didn't read the CF card I put in there, I figured maybe the images were too heavy. So I planned to rework the slideshow by sizing the images down and saving them on an SD card instead.

Eight months ago.

I finally got around to doing that on Sunday, so mom, if you're reading, expect something in the mail soon. Sorry about that.

Weekend Recap

Friend Christine moved out of her apartment over the weekend, so she wanted to have one last gathering at the old place.

She was still moving late Friday night, so she asked friends to show up no earlier than midnight. I got there at 1 or so, and the next thing I know our small group was on the roof, watching the sun rise a few hours later. My first NYC sunrise.

Things settled down at about 6 a.m., and other than a run through Central Park on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, most of the day was spent relaxing indoors.

An old girlfriend, Susie, stopped by for a little while Saturday evening to buy some of my photos. She's an attorney in Atlanta these days, and got into town earlier in the week. Thinking Mexican, I suggested Rosa Mexicano for dinner on Thursday night, not knowing it's a chain. So much for earning some points for that, but the place still is excellent. They're famous for making guacamole fresh from scratch right at your table, but the food overall was quite good. Earlier, as I stood outside waiting for her to show up, I saw my old high school Homecoming date Lisa waiting to get seated. That was pretty funny.

And I can't remember the name of the bar where Susie and I ended up after dinner later Thursday, but it was a pretty cool place around 53rd and 9th. The music was quite good, and it prompted me over the weekend to dust off Moby's 1999 "Play" album and give it a listen for the first time in a few years. I'd kind of forgotten about him.

Sunday was outstanding. I went to another rooftop party late in the day, but this one was 51 floors up. I practically could have shaken hands with the Empire State Building. My new friend Kari also works in news and had a fair amount of media people over. Despite that, we were able to enjoy ourselves.

One guy named Rob caused quite a stir when he busted out his brand new iPhone. Perhaps you've heard about these lately? He showed us curious gawkers a thing or two, and I have to say it's pretty hot. Rob also negated my rant about the seemingly less-than-confident-Friday-at-6 p.m.-on-a-holiday-weekend release. He said he expects Steve Jobs to announce -- weekend box-office style -- some impressive sales figures today or Tuesday, yet another feather in Apple's fedora. I'll buy that, tho we are several hours into the new week already. Tick tock.

Anyway, it was cool watching the sun rise from one rooftop on Saturday morning and watching it set on another roof 36 hours later.

Also this weekend, thanks again to Netflix, I watched two more movies. "The Queen" was excellent, and "Notes On A Scandal" was decent.

Weekend Recap ... Holiday Edition

What a great holiday weekend, and I don't even have Memorial Day off today!

Friday got things off to a nice start. Met up with some friends at 230 Fifth, a pretty cool rooftop joint in the 20s with a great city view, including the Empire State Building about 10 blocks due north.

Lots of pretty people and trendy snobbery made this place not my kind of bar if I were to return solo or with just one friend, but sitting down with a larger group as I did made the place far more tolerable. Plus, the weather was perfect as the sun was fading early Friday evening, so that was pretty nice as well.

Saturday started on the right foot. I got a big delivery of 12x18s for my art show, now just four days away in Covington, Ky.

So I spent some time with those, putting them into mats and starting to worry how I'm going to get everything to Cincinnati. Too late now to try to mail them, so I have to pack everything in a big box and check on the airplane when I fly Thursday, then cross my fingers and hope the baggage people really do handle with care if so requested.

I took a bottle of wine and some prints my cousins had ordered in March over to their place for dinner Saturday night. Kalia made gazpacho and a warm chicken salad, which was outstanding.

I was all set to go home and watch a movie -- I just signed up for NetFlix and received my first DVDs in the mail the other day -- but I called my friend Christine and she coaxed me down to her neighborhood for a rooftop beer or two. She actually lives right near that 230 Fifth joint, though her rooftop might not be as polished as the other one.

Sunday I met my friend Jennie down at the Yaffa Cafe, which I think is in the village. It's on St. Mark's between 1st Avenue and Avenue A, so maybe that's Alphabet City. I don't know. But the food was good and cheap.

Where most cities recognize that Memorial Day weekend is the official start to summer, up here it seems to signal the official start to quieter weekends. Apparently everyone goes to the Hamptons, and that's fine with me, though I wouldn't mind finding out what all the buzz out there is about one time.