Radio Free Whatever

Eileen's ruminations on the sadness of the Cincinnati radio dial reminded me of made me think of this story (from the Hegemo) about this "pirate" radio station that was "interrupting" Clear Channel brodcasts in the Akron area and broadcasting "anti-corporate-radio" messages?

The reason "pirate," "interrupting" and "anti-corporate-radio" are in quotes is because some people on the WOXY message boards snooped around and discovered the "pirate" Web site was in fact owned by Clear Channel. It's some sort of guerilla marketing scheme, I guess. Which is kind of lame and disheartning.

Now the WOXY members have taken up residence at the Radio Free Ohio message boards (which have been delinked from the site but are still active) and send periodic messages to the effect of, "We know what you're up to, Clear Channel, and we're WAY too indie to let you get away with it! We are soooo cool and awesome, we have nothing better to do than hang out on message boards congratulating ourselves." Which is also kind of lame and disheartening.

UPDATE. Links fixed/added.

Taste of Cincinnati = WOO!

Would you believe I've lived in this town 12 years and had never been to a Taste of Cincinnati? Until today, that is. I worked at the CiN booth (and sneaked some free drinks) from 3 to 6, then hung around and made a pest of myself (and sneaked a few more drinks) until about 10.

The verdict? Tonnes of fun. I might have to go back tomorrow to try some of the stuff I missed (like the Best Damn Dish, that soup from Arloi Dee. I'm not going to attempt to spell it). But here's a rundown of what I did sample:
- Black and bleu tuna salad (Indigo): This was a delicious blend of tuna chunks, bleu cheese, lettuce and some sort of vinaigrette. It was pretty small for the price, but I kinda prefer it that way, so I don't fill up on just one dish.
- Pineapple fritters (Ron's Roost): Deliciously greasy! I think I gained half a pound with each bite.
- Reuben wonton (Holy Grail): Great - like an eggroll, but filled with corned beef and sauerkraut. Mmmm ... salty. The Holy Grail guy told me they hand-wrap them - as if there's someplace where Reuben wontons are sold in bulk.
- Chicken and teriyaki steak (Melting Pot): I always love the Melting Pot, and this was no exception. Eating just a bite of their little fondue bits made me want to go there again, which I guess is the point. I was explaining to Jeff (friend, Enquirer-mate, fellow foodie) how Melting Pot meals work: how each table has a built-in hot-plate, and each course is a different fondue, and you cook your meat in boiling water (or chicken stock, or simmering wine) right there at the table. Awesome.
- Water (Cincinnati Water Works): Ahhh. Water. Four billion years old, yet still so refreshing. And this particular water was free, free, free!
- Meatball on a stick (Bella Luna): The flavor was fine, but I gotta say, I've had better meatballs. The texture was what got me on this one: I'm used to ground-beef meatballs that my teeth slice through easily. This meatball was tough, kind of like sausage. I don't think I'd order it.
- Raspberry cloud cake (Courtyard Cafe): $3 got Jeff a hefty slice of this vanilla-ice-cream-raspberry-sorbet-Oreo-crust confection, so I generously offered to help him eat it. I'm so selfless.

Oh, yeah, the bands were rockin', too. More on that later, maybe.


Wow - someone else shares my obsession with weather!

I'm a weather-phile. I'm addicted to the Weather Channel*, and I love checking Weather.com for stuff like the average temperature ... during the month of February ... in Sri Lanka. I love watching clouds move from west to east. I have a favorite front. It's an occluded front, which involves a mass of cold air actually wrapping itself around a mass of hot air to form a tasty burrito of atmosphere.

So imagine my joy to discover (via That Really Chaps My Ass!) the incredible Weatherpixie.com. See, this little Java thingy searches the latest weather data for your area and represents it graphically. So you get a little picture that shows what kind of weather you're having, plus (and this is the awesome part) the type of clothing you'll probably want to wear. I of course added one to my sidebar immediately.

My pixie is subject to change - she may go goth. Goth is fun.

* In college, I dated a guy whose roommate would "relax" by watching the Weather Channel on mute with classical music blaring on the stereo. My then-boyfriend described this fellow as being "wound pretty tight."


My car is 31 days old.

I'm driving to meet my dad at the park so we can run ... ish. We do this thing where we run a minute, walk a minute, rinse and repeat. None of this is really relevant.

I'm talking with my friend Neil on the phone, and he's on his way from Columbus to Indianapolis for a date, because I guess he was just like, "Hmm. Well, I've finished studying for finals. Guess I'll go to Indy for a few hours." This isn't relevant either.

I'm on Fifth, and I've already been stuck behind this crazy bus, and the light in front of me is turning yellow. "Crap, red light," I say and slow to a stop, thinking that I might need to call my dad to tell him that I'm going to be late, which is too bad, because I'm always late and I hate disappointing -


The phone is knocked from my hand. I scream.

I don't seem to be hurt. What the hell; I scream again.

The car is still running. I get out and walk over to the automobile that has popped the cherry of my very first car, ruined its pristine surface. I am shaking. I've had to buy gasoline only twice.

The driver of the other car is a girl, possibly Indian, not much older than me. On autopilot, I shake her hand and tell her that I bought my car four weeks ago. She asks me if I'm OK. I am - at least in the way she means.

People on the sidewalk are staring, yelling something about my Hyundai. Later, I will imagine they are yelling compliments - saying how well my little hatchback (which has only a dented bumper) fared against the other girl's big Ford sedan (whose hood is bent and whose front end seems pretty banged-up). This will comfort me later. Right now, I can't think.

The girl suggests we pull off the road and exchange information. I agree and walk back to my car. The people on the sidewalk scream, "DON'T DO IT!" I look over; a man with a grey beard explains: "If you move, then it's like it never happened! You gotta get the cops here!"

"The cops" - first an officer on a bicycle, then one on a motorcycle - arrive almost as soon as the man finishes speaking. They ask what happened. I tell them I stopped for a red light, and next thing I knew ... They can see the rest.

They direct us to a spot at the side of the road, where I give the motorcycle cop (the bike cop seems to have moved on to other matters) my papers. I think to myself, "Thank God I registered on Saturday. Thank God I have current insurance!" When the officer asks me if my car is a 2005 model, I tell him I bought it a month ago.

I call my dad. We cancel our running plans.

The officer hands me back my license and papers and tells me I can wait for the police report to get the girl's information, or I can exchange it with her on my own. I'd prefer to get it done now. I write down anything I can think of that she might want.

The cop is still talking to the other girl, so I call Neil - who is understandably terrified - to say, "I'm fine, I'm not hurt, I'll call you back."

"OK, you should call your parents -"

"I already did." Click.

The cop finally finishes talking to the other girl (she was being cited, I think), and I go over and give her my information. She suggests I come sit in her car. She seems like a nice person (other than the whole rear-ending thing), but I am uncomfortable sitting in her car. She almost doesn't give me her insurance information. While we are sitting in her car I see a Jeep in the next lane slam on its brakes and stop inches from the car in front of it.

We are finally finished, and I go to the policeman to see what we need to do. He explains about the Hall of Records, tells me I should be fine to drive (and tells the other girl to take it slow and maybe not drive on highways because of her bent-up hood), and says we can both go.

I don't really have an ending to this story, except that my parents bought me dinner, which was nice of them.


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