Getting Old Ain't For Sissies

-Bette Davis

33 is coming in with a roar.

The banner week continues Tuesday, thanks to a special bon anniversaire lunch with my boss. I've requested an outing to Mayberry, and am dying to sink my teeth into the Vine Street hot spot's culinary creations.

Then Tuesday evening, dinner in the 'burbs with my parents. Mom is whipping up French Silk Pie - it's a dessert she could never make properly in Connecticut (I think our being at sea level messed with the pie's ability to set), and I'm anxious to enjoy it once again in Cincinnati.

Wednesday is an outing to Southgate House and tickets to hear Chuck Prophet. Jos took me to see this band a few years ago, and we're catching their latest visit to the Tri-State. Chuck's music is folksy and electronic, and his stage presence/energy is almost palpable. Looking forward to catching this show in Newport - tickets are $12 in advance, and $15 at the door.

Thursday is a 90 minute, full body massage, courtesy of my BFF, Bluegrass Brit. I've never had a massage before, so I'm looking forward to this physical indulgence. My only concerns involve a) how much personal grooming is required before this event and b) what kind of underwear is appropriate.

I have a date with Ursula at Pure Concepts - I hear she's great at deep tissue massages (gosh, this is really turning into a dirty joke, isn't it?), but I don't know if I'm quite ready for that manhandling. Pure Concepts rounds out their massages with an aromatherapy sensory journey, a foot bath and herbal steam shower.

Quite the way to ring in 33, eh?

Friday is a day of sleeping in - I'm off work, and will likely enjoy the extra winks after the previous day's intense massaging. Lunch is an outing with a group of co-workers - it's in recognition of the significant financial commitment we've made to United Way; afterwards I'll be tying up loose ends before attending my birthday party, thrown by two dear friends on Friday evening.

Saturday is lunch with one of the most interesting couples I know in town - they have strong ties to Minnesota, so I'm introducing them to my parents, who met and married in Minneapolis. Then it's another birthday party, this time for Sweet.

Sunday just snagged a housewarming/open house.

If this is how the rest of 33 is going to be, I'm gonna need some serious botox and rest by 34.



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Two Of A Kind

I guess this is a common theme among creatures named Kate.
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Let's Talk Turkey

Ahhh, the big holiday is almost here.

The day when so many Americans strive, aspire and hope for a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting, and typically end up with something as tangled and chaotic as Pollock.

If you're like most folks, you'll be getting a huge dose of family togetherness Thursday. Between the meal preparation, football watching, binging on virtually every carb known to man and the food coma that follows - that's a lot of opportunity for snark.

Fear not, gentle reader. You're not alone. The NYT has a great piece that offers ways to diffuse your holiday gathering, including setting ground rules on the kinds of comments allowed at the dining room table.

If all else fails, I think the BINGO card mentioned in the piece is quite clever. How many times can we write in passive aggression in a square?

*** *** ***

Many of us are traveling over the river and through the wood to get to Grandmother's house for Thanksgiving. Whether you are flying, driving or riding the rails, you don't have to be a member of MENSA to know all channels of travel will be jam packed these next few days.

The American Automobile Association says 38.4 million of us will travel more than 50 miles for the Thanksgiving holiday. Newsday says any drop in air travel congestion won't be noticeable to the average person - so be prepared to wait in epic lines and suffer the scourge of crying babies everywhere.

If you are really needing an escape from your jet setting brethren, I suggest you consult these sources for information on the best airport bars around.

*** *** ***

Maybe Thanksgiving isn't your bag, baby. Maybe you're all about mowing down people with big, hulkish shopping carts and aisles cluttered with crap at Wal-Mart.

I don't judge*.

USA Today says 1 in 10 shoppers will arrive for Black Friday shopping between midnight and 3 a.m. Other, more reasonable folks (coping with tryptophan comas and tension cocktail-induced hangovers) will save their holiday shopping for the Internets.

The AJC has a good write-up on the online tools that help shoppers find the best deals as they set out to arm wrestle aggressive soccer moms for the last Zhu Zhu Pet in Target.

Good luck. I'll be thinking of you as I sleep in and enjoy a Mimosa.

*I don't really judge - but I *do* have to question the judgment of anyone who prefers to shop at Wal Mart. Of all the Big Box stores, it has singlehandedly done the most damage in destroying Main Street U.S.A.



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I Want You To

I can't get this Weezer/Sara Bareilles song out of my head.





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Deciphering Dreams

I am clutching a baby and running for our lives.

Through dusky city streets and neighborhoods, I run. My feet pound the asphalt while I clutch this child, my head whipping around to see if they're still chasing us in the dark.

Never, during the course of the dream, did I figure out who exactly was chasing us. I only remember a strong conviction to protect the baby.

And whose baby? I have no idea.

The dream ended abruptly, my heart pounding and my head racing with concern and need to protect an imaginary baby.

The haze cleared and I remembered reality - I don't have a baby, and nobody is trying to take one away from me. Once I settled back into the circumstances of my universe, I began considering the underlying meaning of such a subconscious fantasy.

Rather than instantly consider the obvious, I decided to follow a friend's suggestion and explore an online dream dictionary, which explained babies in dreams symbolize innocence, warmth and new beginnings. The chasing supposedly means the dreamer is avoiding a situation that is not believed to be conquerable.

Someone else suggested perhaps I am striving to fiercely protect an idea, dream or project, despite criticism and the absence of support.

A high school acquaintance said the dream means I'm ready to be a mom.

The remainder of the comments underscored that sentiment - and I can't say I disagree with the philosophy. It was the obvious conclusion to draw, but I sure as hell wanted to consider the possibility of alternate meanings.

The fact is, I think I am ready to be a mom and wife, but perhaps the universe isn't ready for me.

And it's during these feelings of frustration and mild disappointment that I lean on my faith and strong conviction that patience is a virtue with spectacular rewards.

I guess these dreams are appropriate for a woman of my age. Many 30-something gals tend to hear their biological clock at some point during this decade. Some of us have the ability to make good on that physical and emotional yearning, some of us don't.

Worst case scenario - I just may have a baby on my own. It's a drastic but admirable adventure to embark on alone, and something I wouldn't do without serious thought. Becoming a single mom is a prospect I'd likely entertain in my 40s; I'm still quite young and well aware of how quickly life can change.

Until then, I'm going to keep the faith and be the best damn aunt I can be.

That is one reality I am relishing.

My favorite angel

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Everything's Coming Up Roses

And hydrangeas, lilies, and daisies.

Flowers at the office are highly underrated.

Also, someone dropped the (Flower) Bomb on me this morning. Trying out the beloved Viktor & Rolf scent today. It may be *too* flowery for me - at least for this time of year.

I tend to prefer something with some spice - I really dig Bond No. 9's Andy Warhol Lexington Avenue scent. It's sweet, it's spicy and is billed as a "gourmand" scent.

Where can you go wrong with that?

What's your favorite autumn scent?

I am exhausted...

Dancing and debauchery has a way of wearing out a girl.

I have effectively removed all sparkles and feathers after last night's Late Night at the Moulin Rouge, and am settling in to nap mode before the Bengals game and Mass.

Yes, I said Mass.


xoxo,
K

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After

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The Virgins and Sacrificial Lambs Are Disposed Elsewhere

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This Is Before...

I have no idea what After is going to look like.

But I'm toying with "drastic."

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We're Not In Kansas (or Cincinnati) Anymore

I love funky stuff.

Funky people, funky events, funky places - I absolutely eat that shit up with a spoon. Give me a day in the Village or Cambridge or Camden Town or anyplace with vintage boutiques, ethnic and vegetarian eateries and a crowd of outrageous dye jobs, and I am a blissed out, happy girl.

On rare occasions, I've been known to expose a bit of the funky depths of my persona. Thinking back through the chronicles of my life, I remember a tongue ring, chunky lugged black shoes, overly tweezed skinny eyebrows, black shirts, black pants, black skirts, black everything.

I certainly wasn't Goth or a cutter or cool enough to know about The Jesus and Mary Chain; like I said, funky is just a facet of my persona - I aspire to be more funky each and every day.

It wasn't always that way.

My parents met and married in the Twin Cities. They moved around a bit and returned to Minneapolis with a blonde, ringleted girl in tow (me) and another on the way.

After about four years of living near Lake Minnetonka, we packed up the house and headed south to Cincinnati - home of Johnny Fever and the rest of the gang. That was my exclusive knowledge base about Cincinnati when I was six - it wasn't really a draw in my book.

But I digress.

Fast forward a couple years. When I was, oh, about eight or so, and Brigid was five or six, we all took a family vacation up to Minnesota. It was an opportunity to see my Duluth-based grandparents, spend some time in several of the 10,000 lakes and catch up with my parents' old Twin Cities friends.

During this particular trip, my parents decided to cruise us through Uptown, which is probably the funkiest neighborhood in Minneapolis. It was a summer evening in 1985, and there we were, rolling through an urban jungle full of vibrantly colored mohawks, studded leather jackets and other eccentric fashion selections.

It was at this point in the adventure when I was quoted as exclaiming, "Oh my God. This is scary. Lock the doors!"

According to legend, my father looked at my mother and said, "Looks like we've been in Cincinnati too long."

I guess the homogenization of Cincinnati's suburbs had rubbed off on me - and I was frightened by the unknown. Granted, I was raised by a woman who took plays directly out of The Official Preppy Handbook, but my parents were open minded people and I guess a little shocked their little girls didn't feel comfortable with the unorthodox.

Time marched on and I am grateful my parents took many other opportunities to expose us to funky. I am SO grateful for that. My life wouldn't be what it is today if I didn't love the funky.

Here's to hoping we can make Cincinnati a little funkier.


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New Moon

I've got a hot date tonight.

GOP Big Wig and I are double dating with Edward and Jacob. I confessed to GOP this morning that I've already seen New Moon (Double Platinum scored preview tickets, and he was kind enough to invite me to join him), but I'm looking forward to seeing the flick again.

I cannot express to you how spectacularly stunning Edward and Jacob are in the movie.

Hot-with-a-w-hawt.

The movie includes a couple guest stars you might not expect to see in the Twilight franchise:





Here's to hoping Jacob (and Rookwood) survives Sarah Palin's wrath.


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See and Be Scene Friday

This weekend's main event dishes up sparkling seduction.

The glitterati will turn out for Late Night at the Moulin Rouge - afterparty event that follows the annual Cincinnati Opera Gala, Bal du Moulin Rouge.

This is one of *the* parties of the year. If you've been there, then you know what I mean. If you haven't, you've missed out.

Thankfully you can put on a feather boa and join us tomorrow evening.

Tickets are $30 in advance (mind you, this special price will close online after sometime Saturday morning) or $40 at the door.

For the price of admission, you will have an opportunity to enjoy fine dining by the bite, cash bar, the hottest sounds from DJ Sebastian and some thrilling moves by an aerialist.

The party goes from 10 pm to 2 am - if you need to jump start your evening a little earlier, FB's on 6th Street is hosting a pre-party with cocktail specials including a French Kiss martini.

Ooh la la.

See you there!

xoxo,
KtG


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A Few Random Nuggets

The newshound in me is always hungry.

At least today's news sates my need for the savory.

First up - Lobster Bisque. Have you ever had something so fantastic? Buttery, salty, rich? The creamy, peachy-salmon soup is the meal of choice for rich and poor men alike in the Northeast.

In my high school and college days, I'd scoop ladles of hot lobster bisque into bowls straight from the waitress station at the Wharf Restaurant/Madison Beach Hotel. Sometimes the ladle would include a massive piece of lobster, sometimes not.

The nice customers always got the bowls with the lobster chunks.

God, now I'm dying for a trip to New England. Time to assess my future forecast.

Also from the NYT (aside: can you believe there are actually people in this universe who do not read this newspaper? These people are dead to me), Thanksgiving is a week away - are you ready to slay the dragon that is your holiday dinner? Make it easy on yourself and prepare one item each day leading up to next Thursday. Here's a handy list of 101 dishes that you can make ahead - allowing for more merriment (or for some of you, cocktails and forced togetherness) on the big day.

Speaking of the big day, the traditional Thanksgiving meal deserves a big finish. I tend to stay true to my mom's treasured Derby Pie recipe when making a dessert for the holidays - the chocolate and pecan concoction is a perfect way to wrap a special day. And while my made-from-scratch pie crust is legendary, I might be willing to try something different. Say, a pie crust made with bacon and bourbon?

Who knew the folks in Los Angeles could come up with a new inventive way to pair my favorite spirit with my favorite it's-not-just-for-breakfast meat?

And of my favorite spirit, someone in San Diego is just noticing this speakeasy trend that I blogged about 15 months ago. The Gaslamp Gal suspects bourbon is the new "it" liquor, what with all of the crafted cocktails cropping up with bourbon as the main event.

Bourbon may be the new "it" liquor in the Golden State, but it's been a mainstay in the Bluegrass for an eternity.

Thank God for that.


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Take Me To The Airport

The Cincinnati Enquirer is asking people to share their story of thanks this holiday season. I've reposted my submission below. Enjoy.

Jay Leno has this quote.

He tells you to go through your address book and call everyone you know, and ask them to drive you to the airport. The people who agree to help out are true friends. Those who don't aren't bad people... they're just acquaintances.

As I push on through my 30s, I realize how precious my friendships are. Family - I adore them, they're who I came from and what made me who I am today. But I didn't pick 'em.

Friends? They're each sparkling treasures I found and am lucky to call my own.

I can't express how grateful I am to have a circle of friends who have made a great substitute for family in this single girl's world. These inspirational beings encourage me, make me laugh and give me a hand to hold as I walk this road of life alone.

But not lonely.

My list of acquaintances is long, but so is my list of people who I know would take me to the airport.

Hell, I hope they're all coming along on the trip.


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Spectacular Evening

Everyone should be so blessed to have an evening so full of love and friendship.

I had the extreme pleasure of celebrating Chris Seelbach's 30th birthday Saturday evening. If you don't know Chris, he is a spectacular catalyst for change in Greater Cincinnati. If you DO know Chris, then you know exactly what I mean.

The festivities started with an intimate dinner for 20 at Chris and Craig's Main Street condo. The space was beautifully decorated by the talented Joe Rigotti.

Green is Chris's favorite color, and it was repeated in the stunning cabbage rose table arrangements and other accents.


The menu included four items from Cincinnati Seasoned - I was excited to help Chris plan a dinner of several vegetarian courses. Chris's mother spent the entire day preparing the meal, which included an appetizer of grape truffles, stuffed sweet red peppers and a cucumber finger sandwich. Mrs. Seelbach said she was hesitant about the second course, a cream of Brie soup, because she substituted soy milk for whole milk.

It was spectacular.

The main course was a fabulous, Tuscan pasta dish. The meal finished with slices of Granny Smith apples and caramel drizzle. Delish.

At the conclusion of the dinner, each guest gave a 30 second toast in Chris's honor. Candace, always the eloquent speaker, was heartfelt and very touching. Me? I gave Chris a dash of humor and a bit of sentiment with my Top 5 Tips For Turning 30, inspired by thoughts I had when I turned 30.

After the dinner, the party traveled on to Adonis to meet 200 of Chris and Craig's closest friends. Cincinnati's a great town - it's fun when you discover your friend's social circle is very similar to your own.

I spent the evening with 5chw4r7z, Don't Call Me Mrs. and 007 (Bluegrass Brit's husband).

Here's my BFF, Bluegrass Brit (right), with our friend, Jenny.

The crowd was asked to arrive at Adonis promptly at 7:30 pm to catch a phenomenal show by Amy and Freddy. You may recognize them - they were finalists in America's Got Talent. I love this act. Amy is bawdy, genuine and very honest. She's able to share the ups and downs of life in a way that leads the crowd to simultaneously roar with laughter and grow wistful with shared empathy.

I also adore Amy because she is unabashedly confident about her curves - something we zaftig sisters need to embrace a bit more from time to time. Being the party's unofficial representative of the Cincinnati Curvy Sisters Brigade (I just made that up, but maybe it should exist. Thoughts?), Amy and I became fast friends.


I liked Amy and Freddy so much that I bought them a round of cocktails after their first set. Amy likes Crown on the rocks, Freddy likes his straight up.


The evening was such a special night - the love for Chris and Craig was palpable, and I was so blessed to be a part of it.

All stunning photos by Mark Byron Photography.

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Big Hair

I am channeling my inner Breck girl today - circa 1982.

This is what happens when the water company tells you they're shutting off the building's water at 2:30 in the morning and you decide to bathe before you go to sleep and then discover you're too tired to do your hair at 12:30 am but know if you don't you'll wake up with the most hideous "White Trash Wave" this side of Brown County so you reluctantly put velcro rollers in your hair and then wrap a T-shirt around your head because you don't have any do-rags but know that when ladies wear curlers to bed in the movies they usually wear a scarf or something to contain all that is glorious then you struggle to sleep at night because Hello you have plastic rollers the size of coke cans in your hair but finally catch a few winks and dream of sharing a cigarette with a Jake Gyllenhaal-like character who is working as a clerk in a rustic bookstore and ignoring the crowd of customers assembling because he was enjoying a moment with me discussing the legalization of marijuana until we were so rudely interrupted by the persistent alarm on my BlackBerry.

Yeah, that's how I did my hair today.

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Paging Emily Post

I am a stickler for manners.

In my book, Please and Thank You are de rigueur - as are handshakes, How do you dos and handwritten thank you notes.

Just because life is passing by at break neck speed these days, doesn't mean we can't punctuate the moment with politeness.

So, imagine my shock and dismay when I was so rudely insulted by a customer at this past weekend's Holiday Market.

I spent several hours on Friday and Sunday afternoon/evening selling the newest cookbook from the Junior League of Cincinnati (shameless plug: I designed and developed Cincinnati Seasoned, so I'm a bit partial to it). During that time, I did my damnedest to reign in new customers. I think my technique was only a notch or two away from becoming one of those annoying "Guess your age or weight" people at the local carnival.

But I digress.

There I was, exchanging pleasantries with a woman who had just purchased two cookbooks, when she let out the most shocking comment I've heard in weeks.

Rude lady: So, your booth doesn't really look the way it used to...

(ed. note: I've only been selling a cookbook for, oh, a month or so. I'm not familiar with what past committee chairs and co-chairs have done in previous years, but from what I've been told, I sense it wasn't really elaborate).

Me: Oh, really? I'm not familiar.

Rude lady: Oh well. You know what they say... (sing song) Young people are lazy! (walks away)

My fellow committee member and I were floored by such a rude and unsolicited comment, especially considering this woman had been so complimentary about the cookbook, etc. We literally stared at each other, slack jawed and wide eyed, for a good three seconds or so.

Who the hell behaves this way?

People, be on the lookout. This salt-and-peppered windbag is out and about, doing her holiday shopping in the Tri-State area.

I'd hate for her to inflict her prejudiced wrath on you, too.



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I'm Not On The Lam

Promise.

Lots of stuff going on, and I'm still coping with a broken power adapter for my laptop.

The biggest thing in my world as of late - I'm trying to sell a thousand copies of Cincinnati Seasoned this weekend.

Join me and a bunch of other nice Junior League ladies at the Holiday Market at the Duke Energy Center.

Our booth is right across from Taste of Belgium's waffle booth, so if you get lost and can't find us, just sniff really hard.

But maybe not too hard - I'd hate for people to think you have either a drug problem or serious nasal drippage.

Xoxoxo
K

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I Love Trash

Oscar the Grouch and I have a special relationship.



No, it has nothing to do with my proclivity for clutter and messiness. It's more about how we both spent time in the can. Aluminum cans, people, not the clink/the lockup/the pen.

But I digress.

In 7th Grade, my school choir director offered me a chance to perform a solo as part of a tribute medley to Sesame Street. The task involved me standing in a garbage can while wearing a trash bag with my hair askew. Already coping through a pretty precarious era of my life (let's just say, I was the antithesis of popular), I thought, Why not? What's wrong with sinking even lower in the junior high social food chain?

Even back then, I guess I had balls.

I practiced that solo in my bedroom. I practiced it in the shower. I'd wail my adoration for all things dirty or dingy or dusty, wanting to do my best to honor a program I grew up watching as a tot.

I distinctly remember watching Sesame Street at three or four years old. There I sat, on a ratty couch in the basement of our home in Minneapolis, watching an old black-and-white TV with a broken tube. The picture rolled and rolled and rolled, but my little girl self was never distracted by the ever-rising black bar on the screen. No, I was content to watch Ernie and Bert, Big Bird, The Count, Cookie Monster, Oscar and the rest of the gang. I loved Maria, Luis and Mr. Hooper.

As a four year old, these people were important friends in my social circle.

Sesame Street had a revival of sorts in my family when my youngest sister, ten years my junior, fell in love with Ernie.

For reasons unexplained, Mickie adored Ernie. She would jump up and down in a playpen that we affectionately called "The Cage" whenever Ernie appeared on television. My parents gave her an Ernie doll for Christmas one year; it was a toy that was rarely left behind from that point on.

All these years later, I am tickled by the coincidental naming of Ernie and Bert as it relates to one of my all-time favorite movies, It's A Wonderful Life.

On today, the anniversary of the debut of Sesame Street, I am excited to celebrate a program that carries so much sentiment in my heart and the hearts of so many Gen Xers and Millennials.

Should I ever experience the blessing of raising children, I am certain they'll experience their own relationship with these friends.

Big Bird is the most youthful 40 year old I know.


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Party of One

Is it weird to throw a birthday party for yourself?

That was a topic of discussion during a conversation with my sister.

She made a critical comment about someone throwing their own fete, and I found myself growing defensive.

You see, I am single, and I do not have a significant other to plan the ins and outs of a party in my honor. I am left to come up with my own festivities if I long to celebrate my life with some fanfare.

I don't know if it's a dynamic my sister has ever considered.

And as we both sat there thinking about each other's life circumstances, I began to grow envious. My birthday is a few weeks away, and I wish I had a spouse or partner with whom I could celebrate the moment.

I know the party and the presents and the spotlight would be nice... but really, I'd just appreciate having someone who would share my appreciation for the gift I've been given.

It would be nice to know there was someone just as grateful I was embarking on another year of life.

Sometimes it's so hard... but I need to remind myself that patience is rewarded with the greatest gifts.

And THAT will be reason to party.


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Cookbook Launch Party

My co-chair and I showing off the book

Meet some of the characters from my Newport Posse -

the best friends a gal could have.

TC - one of the hippest journalists I know

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Get Your Seasoned On

I like it hot.

Whether I'm dining on Indian, Thai or Italian, I tend to veer toward something with a little zip.

Garam masala, a #9 Pad Thai or puttanesca - I like to dine on something with some kick.

Thankfully, the Junior League of Cincinnati's latest cookbook is nothing short of flavorful.

Confession: I developed and designed Cincinnati Seasoned for the JLC. The development was a 18 month labor of love that required much of my time and attention to detail. From the title to the concept, the book has my fingerprints all over it.

No wonder I'm so fond of it, huh?

The fact of the matter is, if I hadn't designed this cookbook, I would still want to buy a copy. Junior League cookbooks have a long tradition of beautifully representing a community's best and most current culinary trends. Some people (Julie's boyfriend, e.g.) are cult JL cookbook collectors, savoring the flavors of Birmingham, High Point, San Diego and every place in between.

To some, Junior League gives rise to thoughts of a lady in pearls and an apron, trooping around a kitchen in heels while rolling out homemade pie crust. Budding chefs snap up these cookbooks in the hopes they can aspire to some Donna Reed era when everyone knew a killer cheese ball recipe and how to prepare a roast.

That's all well and good, but this ain't your Mama's Junior League cookbook.

Forget cheese balls and Spinach and Artichoke Dip and recipes made with cream of mushroom soup. Average Joe and Jane have cultivated a bit of a sophisticated palate (hello, sushi and Brie are pretty mainstream), and I wanted to assemble a collection of dishes that anyone can prepare.

I also wanted to showcase a city I love.

And I. adore. Cincinnati.

Anyone who's spent any time in the Queen City knows ours is a city chock full of stunning landmarks. We treasure our past and culture by revering such spectacular places as Union Terminal, Fountain Square and Krohn Conservatory. I worked with photographer Shad Ramsey to capture some of those favorite places and spaces - because even if you can't cook, you will want this book as a sort of anthology of the city we love.

We're launching this cookbook with a special evening tonight at FB's on 6th Street in Downtown Cincinnati. I invite you to come, check out the cookbook and support an organization that is committed to helping the area's women and children.

And bring the wasabi.

Like I said, I like it hot.


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Nein on 9 in '09

Technology got the best of me last night, so I'm using my lunch break to get in a blog post.

Issue 9 may very well be the most important ballot issue to face Cincinnati's people in decades.

I say this, not with a particular, inside baseball kind of knowledge, but as an average voter who has read the proposal and grown weary of the implications.

I say this as a young professional resident of Cincinnati who yearns for a city that catapults into the future, full of progressive ideas, creativity and innovation.

I say this as a constituent who believes in the important process of choosing elected officials and allowing them to make the decisions they're appointed to make.

Issue 9 is about far, far more than the hopes and dreams of having a streetcar in Cincinnati.

Issue 9 is about embracing change, supporting endeavors that let public transportation flourish and clinging strong to the idea that a strong Cincinnati makes for a strong region.

When you go to the polls today, please join me in voting No on 9. A vote against 9 is a vote against costly, unnecessary referendums on matters that shouldn't necessarily be decided by the general public.

For instance: Why should voters in Cincinnati have any say in whether the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden is allowed to change the route of its train?

Voting for Issue 9 is akin to saying you think zoo officials aren't responsible or fit to make a decision like that on their own.

And here's another angle to chew on:

Do you like to travel?

Do you appreciate the ease of public transportation when you visit cities like Washington, D.C., Chicago, Boston, London, Amsterdam, Paris, etc?

Those cities work because they offer a combination of busing, light rail, high speed rail and streetcar.

Cincinnati would likely be cut out of several high speed/light rail proposals already on the table if we choose to pass Issue 9.

The 3-C (Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati) corridor passenger rail proposal has alternate design plans to stop in Sharonville if Cincinnati voters pass Issue 9.

Sharonville.

Why?

State officials are swiftly rolling along with this plan, and can't allow for the time required for a city-wide vote should Issue 9 pass.

Like I've said before - Cincinnati will become a dying island, trapped in a smoggy cloud of vehicle emissions, should we pass Issue 9. We will be without the modern transportation lines that other cities are steamrolling into action.

A trip to Chicago or Atlanta in a couple/few hours?

Not likely if we pass Issue 9.

Think about the direction this nation is headed. Rising fuel costs and pressing environmental factors are just a couple reasons why almost every. major. city. in the United States is evaluating its public transportation resources and needs.

Cincinnati will be left out of the game if we pass Issue 9.

In 1860, Cincinnati was the sixth biggest city in the United States. Our growth did not hold up as well as some of the nation's other large cities, and now we find Cincinnati ranked as the 24th largest metropolitan era.

I can't imagine what kind of decline we'll experience if we fail to embrace progressive ideas and the inevitable dynamics of the future.

Please vote No on 9.

It has very little to do with a streetcar.

It has everything to do with this city's future.


Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

You Know You Want It

...and I'm going to give it to you.

Don't call me a big tease. A tease is someone who attempts to (according to Merriam-Webster), "...tantalize especially by arousing desire or curiosity often without intending to satisfy it."

I intend on satisfying your every whim.

Later tonight.

I have a couple bang-up posts that need to be typed up, uploaded, coded and published. They will whet your whistle and (hopefully) galvanize a community and support Cincinnati's public transportation movement.

Your cravings will be sated shortly. Please bear with me - please do not bare with me.

Well, it's okay if some of you bare with me.

The posts go up tonight.

xoxo
Kate


Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.