Monday, June 22, 2009
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Collingwood Terminals Limited

Labels: August 2008, Canada, Collingwood, Nikon D70, On the Road, Photos, The Farm
Friday, August 15, 2008
Self-Portrait

Me, as reflected in the Cloud Gate.
From the Cloud Gate's perspective:

Labels: August 2008, Chicago, Daily, Nikon D70, Photos
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Manhattan Melodrama

Storefronts along Lincoln Avenue, north of Fullerton Avenue, are taking a few steps back in time for the fiming of "Public Enemies," a biography of John Dillinger. According to the sign on the ticket booth, the price of a double feature for the Biograph theatre was 35 cents.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Condos at Kabal Spean

Aunt Angel and I sojourned here for awhile during our trek to Kabal Spean. We marveled at the landscape and hatched a real estate scheme: The Condos at Kabal Spean. If you have the means, we recommend the elephant shuttle service for a modest U.S. $10,000. Reserve a premier location now for just U.S. $10,000.
Labels: 2007, Cambodia, Family, On the Road, Photos
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Monday, December 24, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The Newsboy


From the Milwaukee Art Museum. I visited the museum to see its Martin Ramirez exhibit. I took the Amtrak Hiawatha line from Union Station in Chicago to downtown Milwaukee.
Labels: D70, Milwaukee, On the Road, Photos, Wisconsin
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Dayton Daily News

When James Cox ordered the design and construction of a new building to house his newspaper, he gave the architect this direction: "Build me a damn bank."
I worked here from January 1994 until September 1999 as a marketing publications editor. I produced the weekly automotive section, Wheels, and contributed, on occasion, to the daily paper.
Labels: D70, Dayton, On the Road, Photos
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Picnic Guest

This monkey buddy joined us for a picnic we had outside Angkor Wat.
Labels: Buddies, Cambodia, On the Road, Photos
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Summer Vacation
I leave this morning for two weeks in Thailand and Cambodia. After spending a couple of days with my father's sister in Bangkok, I will stay with her at her home in the Siem Reap province.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Sunday, September 10, 2006
To the People of Cincinnati
I've been asked to write the program welcome letter for the Oct. 14, 2006, rededication ceremony for the Tyler Davidson Fountain in Cincinnati.
To the People of Cincinnati
With those words, six score and 15 years ago this month, Henry Probasco dedicated the Tyler Davidson Fountain. In memorializing his friend, brother-in-law and business partner, he left the city with more than what was intended to be an "object of beauty and utility." Probasco's gift symbolized the spiritual center of a vibrant and growing community.
The Pennsylvania native commissioned the fountain from a German foundry in 1867, following Davidson's death two years before. As early as 1860, Probasco and Davidson discussed the idea of contributing a public fountain in appreciation for the financial success they'd enjoyed at the helm of the Tyler Davidson Hardware Co. Cincinnati had been kind to the two men, and they wanted to return the favor.
Because plans were not formalized prior to Davidson's death, Probasco left in 1866 for a tour of European foundries that ultimately led him to suitable drawings by Bavarian painter and sculptor August von Kreling. Unlike other fountains of the day that featured classic or mythological figures, these sketches depicted people enjoying the blessings of water for pleasure, salvation and sustenance. High above stood the "Genius of Water," a 9-foot-tall woman with outstretched arms representing Mother Nature. She dispensed water from her palms, all the while casting a protective gaze over the city that called her into being.
At the Oct. 6, 1871, dedication, the 43-foot-high fountain sat on a raised walkway several dozen yards west of its current location, facing east to greet the morning sun. As horse-drawn carriages gave way to motorized vehicles and downtown traffic became increasingly congested, the city, in 1971, moved the bronze-and-granite fountain to a large plaza at the northeast corner of Fifth and Vine streets. The Lady, refreshed from a restoration on the occasion of her centennial anniversary, now looked west toward the new city center.
In rededicating the Tyler Davidson Fountain, we reflect on the generations of Cincinnatians and the countless millions of visitors who have made their way to this space. Through the unforeseeable ways that public places become private landscapes, they embraced the fountain as Probasco must have hoped they would but could scarcely have imagined. They made it their own. And as with any gift with true meaning, the legacy of the fountain grew in the giving and the receiving -- and the giving back again.
For more than 130 years, the People's Fountain presided over the historic and everyday moments of our lives: wartime victory celebrations, World Series championships, summertime concerts and brown bag lunches. Couples married. Children played. Friends met and reminisced. Others tossed a coin in the water, wishing for a turn of good luck, ice-skated beneath the festive lights or caught a cooling mist on a hot afternoon.
In our gathering today, we follow in their footsteps: Cincinnati has been good to us, and we want to return the favor. Like any community worth its salt, ours met -- and will surely face again -- myriad challenges determined to test our individual and collective resolve. Yet we have hope in this city of neighborhoods, our courage and strength articulated in what Probasco called the fountain's "voiceless eloquence." Signs of Cincinnati's resilience abound, from the renovation of Fountain and Government squares to the continuing vitality of the downtown business district and the re-emergence of the city center as a place to live, work and play.
To the People of Cincinnati
With those words, six score and 15 years ago this month, Henry Probasco dedicated the Tyler Davidson Fountain. In memorializing his friend, brother-in-law and business partner, he left the city with more than what was intended to be an "object of beauty and utility." Probasco's gift symbolized the spiritual center of a vibrant and growing community.
The Pennsylvania native commissioned the fountain from a German foundry in 1867, following Davidson's death two years before. As early as 1860, Probasco and Davidson discussed the idea of contributing a public fountain in appreciation for the financial success they'd enjoyed at the helm of the Tyler Davidson Hardware Co. Cincinnati had been kind to the two men, and they wanted to return the favor.
Because plans were not formalized prior to Davidson's death, Probasco left in 1866 for a tour of European foundries that ultimately led him to suitable drawings by Bavarian painter and sculptor August von Kreling. Unlike other fountains of the day that featured classic or mythological figures, these sketches depicted people enjoying the blessings of water for pleasure, salvation and sustenance. High above stood the "Genius of Water," a 9-foot-tall woman with outstretched arms representing Mother Nature. She dispensed water from her palms, all the while casting a protective gaze over the city that called her into being.
At the Oct. 6, 1871, dedication, the 43-foot-high fountain sat on a raised walkway several dozen yards west of its current location, facing east to greet the morning sun. As horse-drawn carriages gave way to motorized vehicles and downtown traffic became increasingly congested, the city, in 1971, moved the bronze-and-granite fountain to a large plaza at the northeast corner of Fifth and Vine streets. The Lady, refreshed from a restoration on the occasion of her centennial anniversary, now looked west toward the new city center.
In rededicating the Tyler Davidson Fountain, we reflect on the generations of Cincinnatians and the countless millions of visitors who have made their way to this space. Through the unforeseeable ways that public places become private landscapes, they embraced the fountain as Probasco must have hoped they would but could scarcely have imagined. They made it their own. And as with any gift with true meaning, the legacy of the fountain grew in the giving and the receiving -- and the giving back again.
For more than 130 years, the People's Fountain presided over the historic and everyday moments of our lives: wartime victory celebrations, World Series championships, summertime concerts and brown bag lunches. Couples married. Children played. Friends met and reminisced. Others tossed a coin in the water, wishing for a turn of good luck, ice-skated beneath the festive lights or caught a cooling mist on a hot afternoon.
In our gathering today, we follow in their footsteps: Cincinnati has been good to us, and we want to return the favor. Like any community worth its salt, ours met -- and will surely face again -- myriad challenges determined to test our individual and collective resolve. Yet we have hope in this city of neighborhoods, our courage and strength articulated in what Probasco called the fountain's "voiceless eloquence." Signs of Cincinnati's resilience abound, from the renovation of Fountain and Government squares to the continuing vitality of the downtown business district and the re-emergence of the city center as a place to live, work and play.
Labels: Cincinnati, Freelance, Ohio, Writing
Friday, August 4, 2006
MidPoint Music Festival
My friend Bill, who co-founded the MidPoint Music Festival, asked that I write the liner notes for the event's compilation CD. I submitted the copy today.
Revolutions, the good ones anyway, inevitably begin with a shot. Before you can win people's hearts and minds, you have to get their attention.
Now in its fifth year, the MidPoint Music Festival clearly has their ears. Since we launched the event in 2002, we've brought hundreds of new bands from around the world and tens of thousands of fans to Cincinnati. Great minds may think alike, but independent minds seek out original music.
That isn't to say MidPoint bands forget their roots. At the heart of every performance is the age-old struggle of the artist to find the new, explore the edge and connect with an audience. That both might find closer ties underscores the revolution.
Technology sparks the fervor, subverting the established order and radically changing how we create, discover and enjoy music. It liberates creativity, but freedom isn't without challenges. Musicians find they have greater control over their craft -- from songwriting itself to production and distribution -- but they also must contend with promotion and how to be heard above the din.
MidPoint sets the stage for bands to explore their options and decide what works for them. The festival builds on Cincinnati's legacy of helping artists sharpen their voice and find their niche -- and of giving an audience willing to listen the opportunity to decide for itself what it likes.
Revolutions, the good ones anyway, inevitably begin with a shot. Before you can win people's hearts and minds, you have to get their attention.
Now in its fifth year, the MidPoint Music Festival clearly has their ears. Since we launched the event in 2002, we've brought hundreds of new bands from around the world and tens of thousands of fans to Cincinnati. Great minds may think alike, but independent minds seek out original music.
That isn't to say MidPoint bands forget their roots. At the heart of every performance is the age-old struggle of the artist to find the new, explore the edge and connect with an audience. That both might find closer ties underscores the revolution.
Technology sparks the fervor, subverting the established order and radically changing how we create, discover and enjoy music. It liberates creativity, but freedom isn't without challenges. Musicians find they have greater control over their craft -- from songwriting itself to production and distribution -- but they also must contend with promotion and how to be heard above the din.
MidPoint sets the stage for bands to explore their options and decide what works for them. The festival builds on Cincinnati's legacy of helping artists sharpen their voice and find their niche -- and of giving an audience willing to listen the opportunity to decide for itself what it likes.
Labels: Cincinnati, Ohio, Writing






















































































































































































