Maybe it’s the blank look on every one of their faces. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never gone for the ladies with plastic high heels, the big soles and the leg warmers. But that’s exactly who and what was flirting with me last Saturday night at the Deja Vu strip club in Milford. It wasn’t my idea to go there.
If you witness a killing when you’re a child, it’s bound to affect your reflexes. By age 27, if you hear a shooting and encounter a body lying facedown in front of an apartment building at midnight, you’re unlikely to stay and watch.
Bitter cold. The air seemed to be made of sharp, solid metal, slicing through pants and shirtsleeves with tiny saw-like teeth that chewed at the skin. Hello goosebumps. Dressed in layers, I headed to Sharonville to teach my regular noon yoga class.
I recently had the opportunity to have lunch at Cincinnati COOKS!, a kitchen in an old building on Ezzard Charles Drive across from a vacant lot. No, it's not the scene you get at most restaurants in Cincinnati, but this building has a thousand times more soul and spirit than all of them put together.
From humble improvisational beginnings with more of those good ol’ shining naturals than you could shake a bloody dollar bill at, it was sometime in 2002 when The Sundresses became the big name on the flyer and began capturing eyes, ears and minds almost immediate ly.