Random Photographs and Tales | June - August 2024
Normally, I start these posts with something like “random photographs made between the months of X and X that didn’t have a place in a larger story or post,” but this entry’s a bit different. Not only did I end up shooting a ton of incidental stuff these last few months, but I wanted to share some random stories that occurred as well. They’re sprinkled throughout. So, here’s “random photographs and tales acquired between June and August 2024 that didn’t have a place in a larger story or post.”
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Downtown Cincinnati at Dusk:
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Twin Dragon. West Chester Township, Ohio:
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Def Leppard
I don’t remember exactly what I was doing, but I didn’t have the dog with me as I walked up Main. When I turned onto Court, this guy was running across the street in an attempt to beat traffic, landing on the same sidewalk as me with an enthusiastic hop. He pulled a rag from his back pocket, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and look straight at me in the summer sun while belting out:
“Phhhhoooootttoooogggrraaapppphhh! I don’t want your…”
He then pointed at me.
“Pho-to-graph?” I tepidly sang back (not wanting to admit that this song was pretty good even if Def Leppard sucks).
“I DON’T NEED YOUR…,” he shouted at me.
“PHHHHOOOOOTTTOOOGGRRAAAPPPHHH!” we sang together.
I didn’t have a camera with me.
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CVG Parking Garage.
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Alden Alley. Cincinnati.
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Berning Pl. Cincinnati.
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Bullshitting with my neighbor, James:
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Great American Ballpark’s left field corner view of the 1970s/bruatlist-era section of skyline. Cincinnati.
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The “color change building.” Cincinnati.
P.S. There’s really no way to display this photograph without it looking pixelated. When that building gets blasted by the right kind of light, it looks very weird.
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Trailer. Evendale, Ohio.
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Egypt sunbathing. Blue Ash, Ohio.
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580 Building. Downtown Cincinnati.
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Over-The-Rhine. Cincinnati.
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Times-Star Building. Cincinnati:
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Taco Bell Truths
I went to meet Jonathan at the bar. His real name’s Jake, but I didn’t know that for the first year or so of our friendship, so I called him “Jonathan” during that time. That’s beside the point, though. We had other things to discuss at what was supposed to simply be an easy-going, casual happy hour. I even brought freeze pops. Generic brand, but surprise frozen sugar snacks none-the-less. Didn’t bring enough for everybody, however, and maybe that was the problem. I’d never seen those folks in my life—let alone know them well enough to not just remember their names, but also surprise them with a sweet, summer’s treat—yet, it was clear they didn’t care for me.
They may not have even been real. That’s not to say they were ghosts (because ghosts aren’t real), but they could’ve been method actors. They were just too “hipster.” Not in an endearing “I get your vibe and we probably have some overlapping music tastes” kind of way, more like a: “this is what your Fox News-binging aunt on Facebook thinks a ‘hipster’ is” kind of way. Like over-the-top, comical characters from Portlandia. Except, these folks spoke only of Nashville and Austin (which, to be fair, currently seem locked in a battle for the title of New Portland (after beating out Charlotte and Pittsburgh (Cincinnati, for its part, did apply for the honor, but had about as much hope as it did when trying to lure the Olympics (Indianapolis, Columbus, and Cleveland were not invited to bid)))).
Anyways…
After overhearing a conversation I was having with the bartender about tacos, the couple immediately challenged for my opinion on what constituted the best, local taco places. My recommendations were immediately dismissed.
To ease the tension, I cracked a joke about the Taco Bell that used to be around the corner:
“Yeah, do you guys remember that? It was open till 3 a.m. every night and served alco…”
“Ah! Nice try,” interjected Fred Armisen’s apparent understudy. “There’s NO WAY that a Taco Bell could legally serve alcohol!”
Now, I’m not a lawyer or familiar with the specifics of any civic codes beyond the parking meter hours, but if there’s one thing in life that I truly do know—well, that’s obscure Cincinnati bullshit. If that knowledge is a self-taught super power, then I’m the Batman of it. And a good Batman too, not one of those Joel Schumacher ones. More like an Adam West running with a comically large bomb kind of Batman. So, yeah, all that to say: there was once a Taco Bell in downtown Cincinnati and it also served alcohol. I know this, because I went there several times. Yes, it was always terrible no matter the time of day or level of crowd, but it did exist.
And of that, I was certain.
I will grant one concession, though: it was technically a Taco Bell Cantina, which is the fast food chain’s “premium” brand for lack of a better term. These are Taco Bell locations in touristy areas that serve the regular, shitty menu alongside alcoholic novelties that the standard locations lack. Places where you could get a little booze throw in to the company’s signature slush beverages (if the machine was ever working)—like a Mountain Dew™ Baja Blast™ with some rum. The fact of the matter was this, though: despite the unique menu and name, this place was a Taco Bell through and through. Both the branding—and regular, dramatic arguments between employees and customers—confirmed that.
I asked Jake/Jonathan to come inside and back me up. We ended up losing our patio seats, but we ended up winning the argument with the help of the internet and his additional eyewitness testimony.
My mustachioed adversary wasn’t happy, twirling his facial hair and eying me as if he planned to either tie me to some railroad tracks or cancel me on Threads. Even as he paid his tab and I attempted to cordially say goodbye, he was still holding a grudge and acting like a prick.
As soon as he left, I went to get more freeze pops for myself, Jake/Jonathan, and the other bar regulars. Couldn’t get anyone frozen, alcoholic Mountain Dew™ Baja Blast™, though. Taco Bell Cantina’s still exist elsewhere, but the one we had around the corner closed a few years ago. It’s now a hat store.
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580 Building. Downtown Cincinnati.
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These ladies asked me to take their picture while I was shooting for this.
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Wu-Tang sidewalk. Over-The-Rhine. Cincinnati.
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Parking garage signage. Cincinnati.
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E Market St. Louisville, KY.
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Cincinnati’s Columbia Plaza fountain featuring very blue water.
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Gwynne Building renovation. Downtown Cincinnati.
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Main St. Cincinnati.
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Florence Mall. Florence, Kentucky:
Despite hailing from Cincinnati, having once lived in Northern Kentucky, and being the kind of person who has a specific interest in the decline of malls—I’d never been to Florence Mall within my 35 years of life. The place is interesting because it’s fairing far, far better than most traditional shopping malls, but it’s not doing well enough to have certain types of high-end retailers like an Apple Store. It’ll be really interesting to see what happens to this property in the future, and maybe the mall’s unique, current state-of-being is a story all its own,. For now, though, here’s a quick look from a Saturday afternoon in the summer. The Chinese meal from the food court was regrettable and the receipt bore the name of an entirely different restaurant, but it was cool to experience a classic mall aesthetic. One that didn’t just merely exist, but had life flowing through it.
A goose in the parking lot next to a Toyota Prius wrapped in Donald Trump adorations.
If you’re going to have a massive, indoor playground for children—you may as well name it after the place their parents fondly remember.
Did you ever play that Mad Max video game? This is “The Underdune.”
A sign that your mall is doing “ok.”
That iconic water tower.
Gorgeous.
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United Dairy Farmers. Deer Park, Ohio:
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Garfield Tower. Cincinnati.
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Cincinnati-Hamilton County Public Library. Downtown Cincinnati.
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Butter Lovers
The store closed in fifteen minutes and I only needed one thing. Employees didn’t seem to care, but the security guards looked as if they were standing back, and, standing by. Wannabe warriors eying last-minute grocery getters behind polarized Oakleys and Punisher patches worn without irony. The kind of militarized mall cops you don’t take seriously, but still smile and politely say “hello” to lest things go south this November and you start seeing them patrol your neighborhood in brown MAGA hats.
Midway down the snack aisle, still under the watchful gaze of the guardians, I passed another customer who was grabbing a box of popcorn. He smacked it as hard as he could and shouted for the whole store to hear: “‘Butter Lovers,’ baby!”
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Sixth Street. Cincinnati.
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Fairfield, Ohio.
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Blue Ash, Ohio:
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View from 8th St. Cincinnati. Color change building on the left.
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Occasionally, Cincinnati looks like a postcard.
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Dixie Chili. Newport, KY:
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Fairfield, Ohio.
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Elm St., Cincinnati.
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On vacation in Oakland.
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Back with more stories soon.
Coming up:
The Oakland Coliseum
New information on street art tiles
Early 2000’s technology nostalgia
And… maybe something about a circus that travels via riverboat?
Since 2007, the content of this website (and its former life as Queen City Discovery) has been a huge labor of love.
If you’ve enjoyed stories like The Ghost Ship, abandoned amusement parks, the Cincinnati Subway, Fading Ads, or others over the years—might you consider showing some support for future projects?
