It’s been so long since I’ve been current with my writings that I seem to ave forgotten how one goes about handeling one of these here-and-now posts. Well, guess I’ll just have to barrel through. And so the excrutiatingly random brain dump begins!

The last few days have been spent catching up with some of my friends – Jesse and Don in particular. I’ve also been working on a side project with Nick to try and uproot G.W. from the White House (if anyone out there is interested in doing some writing for the cause, just let me know). On top of that, I’ve also been busy landing a decent little freelance gig. Very bit of cash will help when it comes time to move.

Speaking of said move, at some point this weekend I’ll be in north Jersey looking for suitable places. Thanks to the paycheck I received yesterday afternoon I currently have enough to make a deposit on a place (not to mention first and last month’s rent) should I see something too perfect to pass up.

Of course the whole run up to tax day added just that much complexity to everything going on, but thankfully it’s all in the hands of my account now. The sooner I get up north, the sooner I get made into a ful time employee and the sooner someone else worries abotu the majority of my income tax deductions. I’ll still be doing paperwork for my freelance projects, but that’s childs play next to what I’ve been wallowing in the past few years.

There. Decent post I’d say — not great, but decent. Now lets see if I can manage to keep them semi-current. Wish me luck! ^_^

There’s just something about getting that extra hour of daylight back that can energize a person. Of course, it has just as much ability to screw with your schedule. I’m choosing to look more upon the positive aspect of this institutional phenomena, though that extra hour of sleep could have come in handy yesterday.

For some strange reason — be it a glitch in an automatic calendar appointment being made or my oversight in checking exactly what it said — I thought the 2 pm meeting I had today was a 10 am meeting, and my usual office ETA is slightly beyond that. This sent me driving up to the office instead of taking the train, which is a time saver for yours truly but can have the added effect of dealing with traffic and the billions of drivers on the Jersey highways.

It’ll be so much easier to deal with this commuting thing once I move further north. Yup, you read right. It’s finally happening. I’ve been offered full time work with Heartbeat Digital contingent on me cutting down my daily commute time, something I’ve been planning for years. This is the catalyst. On top of that, Shannon and I were looking to divest ourselves of the condo and go our separate ways, so it’s as if all those lovely planets are lining up in just the right way.

Bricktown jailbreak! Job security! Woooo!

The hunt is starting up just as soon as the tax season is out of the way, with Jersey City a center point in my search and a decent sized radius out from there. My goal is to be a distance of 1 hour or less away from the office in SoHo, but cost is to be the first limiting factor (isn’t it always?). Any leads would be greatly appreciated.

Gee, looks like I’ve gotta start thinking about what to serve at my apartment-warming party. ^_^

The following takes place between 1:55 pm and 2:00 pm on March 28, 2004:

I pulled off the highway, making my first stop for gas some 30 plus miles inside the western border of Pennsylvania. Found myself out driving on a beautifully sunny day, and took the few minutes I was gonna spend outside of my car to enjoy it. It had been a great weekend in Ohio visiting Joanna, but I was looking forward to the trip home and the time with my thoughts.

I had just pulled away from the to the edge of the state road on my way back to the on-ramp of Interstate 80. I looked left and saw two motorcycles in the distance. Looking right I saw a car. Still looking right I saw the blur of one bike pass me. I slowly began to pull out, my head snapping back left at the same moment and that’s when I saw him. I head the screech of two tires, saw the twisting of the handlebar and the subsequent laying down of the motorcycle by its rider.

End dramatic flashback

And that, ladies and gentleman is how I almost killed one of the nicest people I ever met.

Well, my first impression of Raymond wasn’t really nice, but more of the “God damn you! I just skidded some 50′ over the pavement because of you!” attitude that I was expecting. Subsequent communications over e-mail and phone to has out all the details of insurance and reparations showed me that he was a decent man. He’s even offered to have me stop by and say hello in person next time I’m passing through his area.

Of course, at the time of the accident we were both shaken pretty badly — he physically, and myself psychologically. This is the first accident I’ve ever been in where someone was hurt, and that’s both as a driver and a passenger. To see Raymond lay down that bike was one of the most frightening moments in my life. Those moments as he drew closer and closer to the front of my car were in the slowest of slow-motion experiences, and I was waiting for the thud into the front end of my car and the cracking and mangling of bone, plastic and steel.

Thankfully for both of our interests, Ray’s slide stopped directly in front of my car. His bike decided to go another 150 feet or so. He popped back up quite quickly, but obviously was shaken. Within minutes there was at least a dozen people crowded around in various states of help — some calling 911, one properly trained person checking Ray for a concussion, some directing traffic so as not to hit any of the people of vehicles milling about.

The first aid department and the fire chief were on scene quickly after that to check over everyone. Surprisingly the police never got the call and as such never hit the scene. Not like they were needed, but It was certainly strange to me. One extremely nice couple who were riding their own bike by the scene were the first ones to stop by and help out. They check on his bike, took the job of getting information exchanged for Ray when the paramedics were checking him over, calming my shattered nerves — they did a great deal to help both of us out.

Soon the crowd began to dissipate, the first aid squad finished their reports and drove away, leaving just myself, Raymond and the husband/wife bike team there to hash out final details. I used my handy dandy camera to snap away shots of the damage as a precaution and headed out nearly an hour after all the hullabaloo had started. In that hour I figure I aged about some 387 days, give or take a few hours. I tried to put all the emotions out of my system as quickly as I could — I still had some 300 miles to go before I would even see the border of New Jersey and I had to be sharp for that, lest I have another accident on the ride home.

This was all preventable on quite a few levels, but I’d like to think that the moment my travels through western Penn were doomed was when I jinx myself by telling Joanna about the massive amount of points about to come off my record for past speeding tickets and my first accident in the Red Baron.

DAMN YOU FATE!!! (Shakes fist violently at the clouds) ^_^

Quite an eventful couple of days in my first trip to the fringes of the midwest. Let’s share, shall we?

Friday:
The day began rather gray and rainy, and I took the opportunity to sleep in a bit while Joanna took care of laundry and the sort — I was on micro-vacation after all. Once I got motivated and cleaned up (showers are a good thing!) we decided to go grab some food over at one of Joanna favorite local establishments, a rather upscale looking place called Moe’s. Kind of strange to see a restaurant and wine bar in the middle of a car dealership lot, but then again I’ve seen stranger.

After some damn fine burger and a couple of beers we decided to drive the 30 minutes or so to Cleveland to go visit the Cleveland Museum of Art. Once we got off of the superhighways and into the local byways I started to see some really great choices in architectural styles at ever turn of my head. Inside the city limits the lines and curves were even more dramatic.

Of course, the outside of the art museum itself seemed to be in stark contrast to all of this — gigantic blocks that looked like quarried stone hollowed out. It felt somewhat out of place, but the more I look back upon it the more I figure that might have been the intention in the first place.

As we began our walkthrough the collection the soft sounds of live Jazz filtered down the stairs and filled the halls — the museum had a singer and her accompanying band performing in the Interior Garden Court, a little garden cafe area in-between the upper two floors of exhibits. Supremely fitting soundtrack for enriching one’s mind with great works of art, I must say. What pictures I was able to take I plan to share, though some of the more modern works have copyright issues — I was asked more than once to shelf my shutter-bug instincts.

Photo restrictions aside, I was impressed with the staff and the museum itself — their collection was as diverse as it was good, the layout and flow of the exhibits was subtle and even the museum map was easy to you, with rooms designated by clearly marked numbers both physically and on the map. Brilliant!

It was dark and the rain was picking back up when we left the museum and headed towards downtown. We drove down to visit my first Great Lake — Erie be thy name! Parked right outside of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, we took a walk down to lakeside. They really did a fantastic job with this area, what with the Hall, the new Cleveland Browns Stadium and what I’m told is a great science center smack dab in the middle. All this and a great little park, from where I stared out over the waveless ocean that was Erie.

We did a bit of driving about, continuing to tour the city. It was a grand time, but that hunger thing came up and had to be addressed so we parked the car down in the East Flats and started exploring the Warehouse district for a suitable restaurant; the sight of the Main Avenue bridge looming over us.

After passing quite a few appetizing possibilities we settled on a hearty Italian meal at Frank and Paulys. Highly recommended, but bring your hunger with you — their half portions could probably feed a family of 4 and I’m not exaggerating (for once!). With food out of the way, it was time for drink so off we went in search of a suitable drinking establishment.

We found ourselves walking into someplace called the Blind Pig Speakeasy, whose very name seems quite misleading to me. I challenge you to find a more raucous place in the whole city that night, because the bar was packed both upstairs and down. The main floor reminded me much of establishments like Jenkinsons and Bar A back home on the shores of Jersey, and by that I mean it was a total meat market. I felt completely underdressed for the occasion, what with my t-shirt and bleached spotted jeans (and not even that fashionista-style bleaching either!). Downstairs was a bit better: dance floor, DJ and an ample amount of people getting into the music. Of course, even that had its minor flaws. The DJ was choosing some really weird song to mix together and completely dropped the beat more than once — a definite no-no when one is trying to get their groove on. Maybe they need some serious east coast muscle on the tables? Well, I do doubt that this particular DJ was the best example of what the city has to offer, so I’ll withhold judgment for another time.

A quick jaunt over the Veterans Memorial Bridge and we were exploring West Flats, where industry mixed with commerce and residence in strange places. I feel you can really see that this city is transitioning into something new — the roots of blue collar industry that the city was founded on now giving birth to a more diversified base, but not totally replacing them. I think the many visually captivating causeways show that. Many of the bridges over the Cuyahoga River may still be in use, but I know of at least one skyward facing drawbridge that’s there just for show — it stands forever opened at the entrance to a night club.

Finally convinced that we’d seen enough for the day, Joanna and I made the drive out of the city and back to her place, passing Gund Arena and Jacobs Field on our way out and thereby completing my list of city stadium exteriors seen. Perhaps on a return trip I can take in an Indians game? We shall see, I guess.

Saturday:
Mother Nature finally decided to stop throwing a hissy fit and gave us a decent day. The original idea discussed on the trip from New Jersey was to drive the two hours out to visit Pittsburgh, but this was before we found so much to do much closer. I had a lot of fun seeing Cleveland and knew that there was still more we could take in. On top of that I think Joanna was surprised by all it all too — if not she hid it well under a facade of amazement.

What with me being the prototypical tourist and not having seen more than a few steps inside the Rock Hall (we tried to crash some kind of release party that was going on the night before), we decided that downtown needed another visit. We also decided to make use of the local mass transit the RTA offered — their light rail system in particular. The station we chose to disembark from would also be close to the other stops Joanna had planned for the evening, so it was a grand plan.

The rail lines cut past some of the most beautiful houses I have seen — like the suburban dreams you might see in a John Hughes film. The closer we got to the city the more urban things became, but not to the degree that I’m used to in my daily New York commutes. The last stop on our trip was Tower City — a former railroad terminal from all visual indications that was now doubling as RTA’s hub with a brandy-new mall upstairs.

After a quick lunch we walked through Public Square towards the lakefront and our destination. The walk gave me ample time and daylight to look at some of the statues that littered the area and take in the breathtaking architecture of the buildings — did I tell you about the architecture yet? We passed past court houses, police departments and city halls…whoops! Sorry, that last one is singular — got carried away there. In honor of all the bureaucracy there was a stature of a gigantic rubber stamp. This made me laugh to no end. Well, that and one friend’s personal crusade against them. With a smile on my face, we finally saw the Rock Hall and made our way to the front doors.

This time I was determined to see the inside of the building without getting booted out. Luckily, we entered during visiting hours this time, so my chances of that happening were greatly increased. But the leisurely pace Joanna and I took to get to the Rock Hall left us with only an hour to view the exhibits. The ticket agent was nice enough to let us in for half fare after I casually mentioned I was from out of state.

For the second time on my trip I was asked to curb my photography — this time by a sign and not an attendant. I got what pictures I could, and a few I shouldn’t have, but well worth it. I got to see the old VW Microbus that used to be the Wetlands merch table, an old Porsche with a psychedelic paint job that once belonged to Janice Joplin, a handful of guitars belonging to the likes of Tom Petty and Joe Satrianni, many costumes and a littering of instruments used by numerous acts and a perversely funny exhibit to pop stars, including a David Casidy unitard that I can’t believe ANYONE would even CONSIDER wearing.

The excursion continued upstairs to the enshrinement room. This wing of the building has a theater in the center of it and a spiraling ramp hallway surrounding it, dark as night inside except for the light from the glowing signatures of the inductees etched into the glass-like outer wall. Quite a nice effect and the person who thought up the idea should take a bow.

I paid my respects to such names as Hendrix and Dylan, Aerosmith and AC/DC, Earth Wind and Fire, Booker T. and the M.G.’s, The ‘Dead, The Doors, The Allmans, Solomon Burke and of course, Steely Dan. You thought I would travel all this way and miss the opportunity to pay homage to Becker and Fagen? You obviously must not come here often. ^_^

On the way back down to the exit, we passed by a few more displays — the most interesting of which was on Les Paul. They had a few of the experimental guitars he built on his was to creating the solid body electric, including one called “The Rail” — literally a piece of railroad steel with strings. Quite unreal to see up close.

We made our way out and back onto the RTA — this time from a conveniently placed station just outside of the Hall. This branch of the rail line has a section that elevates and curves back towards the city, dropping down not unlike a roller coaster would. Of course, this meant Joanna and I had to pretend it was a roller coaster — including the arm raising and a barely audible scream as we began our decent.

We disembarked in Coventry, one of the nicest neighborhoods I was privy to viewing along the way. The plan was to take a short walk from the station, through the neighborhood and down to the business district to get some drink and dinner. It was a good plan, though we greatly under-estimated just how far apart the station and the businesses were. I mean we’re talking miles and not blocks here, or at least it seemed that way. Still, the walk itself was great as i got to see even more houses, hundreds of joggers and a few more of the billions and billions of churches in the greater Cleveland area. Carl Sagan would be proud.

We hit a little wine bar called La Cave du Vin and sampled some of their fine selection. Joanna gave me a brief view into the finer points of wine, what with me being a relative newbie. I savored my glass of chilled white before we walked over to have a little Chipotle for dinner. While in line for our meals Joanna and I ran into a fellow Jersian who overheard our conversation of the old ‘hood. What’s more, she was nice enough to give us a ride back to the rail station after we finished eating. And who says people from Jersey are all assholes? ^_^

Music was on the agenda for the rest of the evening, and I can assure you this was by far one of the more diverse nights in that respect. Our first stop was to see the Cleveland Jazz Orchestra play together with a local gospel quior…in a temple. It was quite a strange mix — the setting, not the music — but all in all quite enjoyable. We were by far the most underdressed people there. I guess I’m really playing up the hippie angle these days.

After that, we made our final stop for the night — a trip to downtown Akron to catch a metal show. Joanna was interested in the headlining band but the undercard sucked quite badly, so at her insistence we ducked back to her place just five minutes away to kill some time with SNL before going back for the real deal. Gotta love venues that allow readmission! I can’t really remember details about the last band, but they were a decent bunch. They can play, but right now they’re still in search of a sound.

A quick jaunt back to Joanna’s and it was off to dreamland. It had been quite a full weekend and I had a few more stories and a ton more pictures to show for it — all I’ve ever asked of a trip. I’ll be returning to see more of Cleveland some day in the future, that I know for sure. Let’s just hope that when I do make that trip that the drives to and from the city are a lot less eventful.