O - H

While R discovers the wonders of Chile and Argentina, I have returned to Ohio for an overdue visit.

Of course, no trip to the Buckeye state would be complete without an Ohio team losing a championship game. LeBron forgot to board the plane to San Antonio as the Spurs put a whooping on the Cavaliers. It's okay, because I suspect that King James will adjust in time for his return to Cleveland...or not.

My sister took me to the (in)famous Surly Girl my first night in town. It's a bar/restaurant run by the same folks that brought you Betty's. This place had opened shortly after we left Columbus. All that I had heard was how hard it was to get in...this was two years ago. We walked right in Thursday evening and downed several pints of Oberon (with the required orange slice) and the same nachos served down the street at Betty's. Our friend J stopped by despite his dissertation defense scheduled for the following day.

(Most of our conversation revolved around the transgendered community and their use of "T" to enhance the transformation, oddly enough. I'm sure we were not sober enough to make any arguments for or against this practice, but I'm sure it entertained those around us.)

The next morning came too soon as my sister had to send me out while she went to work. So, I decided to eat at the best breakfast place in town, North Star. The only difference was that I checked out the new Clintonville location, instead of the Short North original. I had forgotten how good their coffee and breakfast burrito were. All the coffee is fair trade and rich in flavor, oh, and the cups are bottomless. The burrito provided my breakfast for two days. The combination of organic/free-range eggs, salsa, and sausage fills you up for the day. If only there were a North Star in COMO...

I made my way to some old haunts, particularly Used Kids to pick up the latest release by Columbus-ites and new Matador signees, Times New Viking. I described their previous effort to my sister as sounding like Bob Pollard farting through a pillow into a tape recorder while screaming. But trust me, the songs are good once you get past the production. (It's that whole Siltbreeze thang.) The recording of their current release, The Paisley Reich, is another great collection of shrieks and hollers from the attached two-car garage at your favorite split-level arthouse. I really can't wait until Matador shells out the big bucks for a decent recording studio and big-name producer. (I'm hoping for Steve Albini.) Until then, I'll suffer through their first two crap-fests.

Before leaving town, I thought that I'd pick up a hoodie from American Apparel, but hipsters don't shop before eleven, apparently.

I did, however, pick up my two favorite beers in the world before heading home. Bell's Oberon signifies that summer may begin. The previous night's consumption was not enough. I can get Bell's in COMO, but I can't get Columbus Pale Ale. This is by far my favorite brand of my favorite style of beer. It would be a good visit with these beers in my folks' 'fridge.

To be continued...