Do you consider that breakfast? At our fancy-ass hotel in Cincinnati, they do. I say, “Where go the hashbrowns? Where go the bacon strips?!” Oh well. It was “free.” And I use the term about as loosely as you possibly can. I mentioned in the podcast that I heard a trip-hop version of ‘Swingin’ Party’ by the Replacements while having one of these demoralizing aristocratic meals, and Surf Reporter Brad did some research and tracked it down for us. Check it out here. Nice work, Bradley!

Before we get into another Pulitzer-level photo display, I’d like to alert you to the second part of the Pittsburgh/Cincinnati audio travelogue here and below. Please check it out, along with the previous episode, for a complete overview of the trip. It was fun!

I don’t generally post photos of myself here, for obvious reasons. But who gives a shit at this point? This was during our post-breakfast stroll through the riverfront park. Just hangin’ with Mr. Redlegs. By the way, I’m staring straight into the sun here. I’m not generally that squinted down. Also, I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I recently lost my left arm in a horrific reaper accident.

This is a stadium seat from the old Palace of the Fans, where the Reds played from 1902 to 1911. Look at the size of that thing! I’d snap both armrests off, or get my ass wedged in there for good. But I love stuff like this. People sat in that seat to watch baseball… in 1911. When Ty Cobb was 25 years old. Crazy!

Great American Ball Park at 10:30 am. We were told workers have been there all night cleaning up the garbage that was left on the previous night. At this point, they have hoses out and are spraying things down. The groundskeepers are also hard at work. It was amazing to see how much was going on there, so early in the day. You can’t really tell by the photo, but the whole stadium was a beehive of activity.

A Barry Larkin-themed pool table inside the Diamond Club area of the stadium. Seats there reportedly cost about $350 each, and include steak and lobster, etc. The tour guide chuckled while telling us that people in Cincinnati believe this is expensive. It is expensive. It might be worth it, but it’s still expensive.

Our tour group inside the Reds dugout. And how cool is that?! The bench, by the way, has cool air blowing up through the slats, to keep your balls at a reasonable temperature. This part of the tour might go down as one of the most memorable things I’ve ever done. I was about to soil myself. Sometimes I think I’m dead inside, but baseball makes me realize it ain’t quite so. Not yet.

The bat racks inside the Cincinnati dugout. Notice the spot where The Punisher keeps his tools of war in the upper right.

Even stuff like this amazes me. It’s the various phones inside the dugout. Not sure why they can’t just go with one and post a list of extensions, but whatever. I pretended to call the bullpen during a moment of high-levity. I’m sure that’s never happened before.

One more shot of the dugout, before we move on. …I’m sorry, I’m getting a little emotional.

I took this one from the warning track, behind home plate. They warned us — and were clearly serious about it — to not walk on the grass, or even touch it with our hands.

Obviously, the Reds on Radio area o’ the stadium. They didn’t show us the actual radio booth where the play-by-play is done, which was mildly disappointing. But this area is right behind it. Cool!

Inside the press box. The glass is removed on nice days, they told us, and there are many dents in the rear walls from foul balls. Somebody writes the player’s name and date on each dent.

How great is this? A Wiffle Ball field for the kiddies. I love it. Also, the location of home plate from the old Riverfront Stadium is “near the hostess station” inside that bar in the background, the one with the big IPA banner. It’s hard to imagine. I visited Riverfront many, many times.

My lunch at Skyline Chili. I wish I’d gone with the extra cheese option. This is a so-called Five Way, and a Cheese Coney.

Pete Rose statue outside the stadium.

People huddled around the Johnny Bench statue. I had to fight the urge to run over there and start hollering, “Have some respect, assholes!”

From our seats on Saturday night. As you can see, they were a lot closer than my $19 Friday seat. Great game! They were wearing 1976 Throwback uniforms too.

 

And that’ll do it for now. I took over 200 photos, and hope I’ve chosen the right ones.

I’ll see you guys again on Monday.

Also, I plan to do a Patreon episode of the podcast, and will likely post it late Friday or early Saturday. So, be on the lookout for that.

And have a fantastic day!

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That’s a photo of Jack White taken from the stage of the Raconteurs show we attended on Tuesday of last week, in Pittsburgh. We’re out there somewhere. I can’t find my pasty face in the crowd, but we were there and pretty damn close, too. Fun time! And the fact that it was only a week ago blows my mind a little. So much has happened, it feels like a month has passed.

Before I get into the meat o’ this one, I want to mention that I had my very first guest host on the podcast while I was traveling last week. Producer Zipp sat in for me on the Thursday show and did a bang-up job. It’s hilarious, and you should definitely give it a listen. Right here. He puts vacations into four categories and tells a personal story to illustrate each of them. It’s very funny! I’d love to get your feedback on this one. Tell us your thoughts in the comments section. And thanks, Zipp! Much appreciated!

Yesterday I recorded a lengthy (for me, anyway) podcast telling my road stories through Friday night. That includes the back and forth guerilla strike on Pittsburgh for the rock show with my kids, and the first half of the Cincinnati trip with Toney. It’s only 45 minutes long, I don’t want to scare anyone away, but it’s about 50% longer than normal. I hope you’ll give it a listen, right here or at the fancy doohickey below. It’s called Rock n Roll! Tennis! A Smattering Of Baseball! And then I’ll share some photos from that part of the trip. I took over 200 in total, so I’ll try to narrow it down to just the best 180 or so. You know, so as not to overdo it. Here’s the doohickey:

And here are some photos:

I don’t have many pictures from the Pittsburgh portion of the week, ’cause the Raconteurs did not allow phones. They made you put them in one of these Yondr pouches, so you didn’t have access to them during the show. But I snapped this one while waiting to get into the venue. It was rainy and foggy and it felt like the temperature was plunging. Since it was an outdoor concert, I didn’t care for any of that nonsense. Except for the temperature plunging. I was cool with that.

On Thursday Toney and I stopped for gas shortly after crossing into Ohio, and saw this interesting contraption parked there. Inside the store, it was a hardy mix of rednecks, meth heads, and Amish men in straw hats. We didn’t hang around long.

I did about five solid minutes on this squared-off toilet in our hotel room. I wanted to know how I was supposed to attack it: facing forward, side-saddle, or corner-to-corner. Toney did not seem to share my amazement.

A shot from the rooftop bar of our hotel. You can see how close we were to the baseball stadium. It was literally across the street. The Reds were busy beating the Cardinals as I snapped this. I felt guilty for not being in there, but we’d just driven ten hours and I had an advanced case of Phantom Ass Syndrome (PAS).

Center Court at the Western & Southern Open, aka the Cincinnati Masters. This is from our assigned seats, which we never sat in again. Competing is Ashleigh Barty vs. Maria Sakkari. It was hotter than owl piss out there. My initial thought: “This is going to be a loooong day.” But it turned out to be a blast.

There were many, many vendors and shopping “opportunities” there. Including such offerings as a vodka tent, a stand where you could buy glasses of champagne ($19), and a place where you could purchase “cheeses of Europe.” Oh yeah, and high-end jewelry, too. At a tennis tournament? Hey, whatever. We enjoyed some local delicacies: Graeter’s ice cream,  LaRosa’s pizza, and a pint of Rhinegeist beer.  You can see the Eiffel Tower at Kings Island amusement park in the background.

Somebody semi-well-known… to people who know tennis. Toney could tell you his name, but I can’t. Anyway, this is at one of the 18 or so practice courts. People applauded when he arrived. We also watched Andy Murray at one of the practice courts, but my photos of him aren’t great.

I think they called this stadium the Grandstand. I’m not sure, but this was the best part for me. It featured Svetlana Kuznetsova and Karolina Pliskova, in an exciting battle. The crowd was into it, and it was genuinely fun to watch. This was after we were bullied out of our shady seats by a gang of senior citizens who were making us feel guilty. But it was a good time, even out in the blazing sun.

A corner of the massive Rhinegeist “party patio.” People are sleeping in there! Or watching tennis on TV! The actual match is happening on the other side of that wall. That sun will flat out destroy you. We had one pint each, and they cost $11 per cup. Later that day we bought a 12-pack of the same beer for $17.99.

Back at Center Court, for our final match of the day: Naomi Osaka vs. Sofia Kenin. Osaka dropped out with a knee injury or somesuch.

After it was clear Toney was done for the day, due to high heat, etc., I walked across the street and took in a Reds game alone. I told the girl at the box office to give me a seat that’s cheap and in the shade. This one cost me $19, and I was indeed out of the sun. The photo was taken after dark, of course, but it was bright sunlight when I arrived. It was fun, even though the Reds got the everlovin’ shit kicked out of them. Oh well.

And that pretty much takes us through Friday. I’ll update you on Saturday and Sunday next time. Saturday was baseball-heavy, and oh so cool. Stay tuned!

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

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I’m working today, then it’s vacation time again. I think we might’ve gone a little overboard with the travel this year. We’ll be dialing it back a bit from here. I mean… we didn’t go on any around-the-world cruises or anything extravagant like that. It’s just too frequent. And even a trip to Cincinnati, which sounds relatively inexpensive, will cost us a wheelbarrow full of cash. One wheelbarrow, as opposed to the two we spent in Las Vegas. But still… it’s a freaking wheelbarrow full of cash!

In any case, we’re planning to have a good time. That is certainly the goal. But before we get to the Cincinnati trip, the boys and I are going to Pittsburgh to see The Raconteurs. That’s tomorrow night. So, we’ll be driving over there — almost five hours — going to the show, and spending the night in a hotel. Then we’ll be driving five hours back on Wednesday. And the following morning… Toney and I are leaving for Cincy. Which is roughly a nine-hour drive, in roughly the same direction. It’s crazy.

Our hotel in Cincinnati is shockingly expensive. I’m talking Manhattan expensive. WTF?? But there’s a lot going on next weekend, and it’s a perfect opportunity for gouging. The Reds are going to be beating the St. Louis Cardinals, soundly and without mercy, of course. But there’s also a big tennis tournament going on, The Western and Southern Open, also known as the Cincinnati Masters. We’ll be attending on Friday. Toney loves tennis, and all the big names participate in this one. I’ve never been to something like that, so it’ll be an experience. Should be fun!

And on Saturday it’s all baseball. Oh yeah. Here are some of the highlights:

• The Reds Hall of Fame and Museum.
• A morning tour of the stadium where we’ll be allowed access to the press box, the dugouts, etc. My nipples are exploding with delight! They even let you walk the warning track. Good Lord, it’s going to be awesome!
• The game, of course.
• Ridiculous seats, from approximately here.
• Johnny Bench bobblehead night.
• Wristbands that allow for disgraceful all-you-can-eat gluttony.

Oh, it’s going to be a blast! I hope. The hotel is right there, so we can just walk back and forth. They have some kind of spectacular rooftop bar, so we’ll certainly log some time there, as well. I’m excited. But that wheelbarrow? Man, it’s filling up fast. Sheesh. The wheelbarrow is always a concern.

So, Thursday’s podcast… I thought I was going to have to skip it since we’ll be traveling. But (are you ready for this?) there will be a guest host! Like Joe Garagiola on the Tonight Show. Oh, this is going to be interesting. I think I’ll release it to the main network, so everybody can hear it. Stay tuned for more info.

In the meantime, I’ve released a new episode that features only me. It’s right here or just hit the big green PLAY button below.

In this one, I talk about how Nancy (who is in town as I type) invited me to a picnic at the state park on Saturday. And that turned into an episode-long diatribe about things that society wants us to believe are fun, but are not. I have a long list of such things. But I’m hoping you guys can add to it. As mentioned, I invested upwards of five minutes preparing my list, so I almost certainly missed a few things. Please help me close out the category. Use the comments.

And speaking of the podcast, I believe I’ve got a system in place now where I can conduct interviews over the phone and get a perfect mp3 recording of it dropped straight into a folder on my computer at the end. It’s pretty slick, and I tested it on Sunday. Works great. So, that’s exciting. Be prepared for an occasional conversation with crazy and interesting people. It’s a new era!

And I’m calling it a day, my friends.

I’ll see you again soon. Follow me on Instagram for photos from the road.

And have a great week!

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My parents played it safe. As you can see by this graphic, which I found on some random, questionable website, Jeff/Jeffrey was enjoying its highest level of popularity around the time I did a forward-roll into the world. In fact, I believe it was the most popular boy name of the day. I could look it up to confirm, but I’m relatively lazy. Also, they told me they were going to name me Lisa if I’d been a girl. Which was the most popular girl name the year I was born. So, my folks were not breaking any new ground in the baby namin’ department. That’s for certain.

But I’m reasonably happy with it. It feels like the first name should’ve had two syllables since the last name only has one. That would be my main complaint. Jeff Kay is very choppy. It also sounds like JFK, who was president when I was born. Weird? It was almost certainly a coincidence… My mom and dad would never go in for such cuteness. I’m sure it never crossed their minds. I should ask them about it. Indeed, here’s a 45 from the Kennedy years, some political novelty song. Check out the artist’s name. You know… ’cause it sounds like JFK.

So, except for the syllable complaint and the accidental John F. Kennedy connection, I’m cool with it. Jeff is a good solid name. Right? Unfortunately, I don’t think there are many current kids named Jeff. According to that chart, we had our day in the sun during 1962 and 1963, then it all went off a cliff. Oh well. We’ll rebound. Jeff will live to fight another day. There will be more baby Jeffs! Mark my words.

I never thought about having a different name or going by my middle name: Scott. But what about you? Have you considered changing your name, or using your middle name? I doubt that it would even work unless you moved to another city and started over. Once you’re known by a name, that shit is locked-in. You can’t expect people to update something like that. It’ll never happen. Am I wrong? Do you know anyone who has successfully made such a transition, without putting themselves into a completely different setting? Tell us about it, won’t you? And if you ever thought about it, what was your new name going to be?

I know someone, right now, who is attempting to bully the world into calling him Alex. But that’s not his name. He just doesn’t like the one he was given at birth and is trying to pull a fast one. I, for one, will not participate. And I don’t think I’m alone. You’re not Alex! We all know this.

What do you have on this subject? Are you happy with your name? Did you ever consider changing it, or demanding that everyone start using a variation of some sort? Please tell us about it. Also, share your tales of people who wanted everyone to start calling them some completely different name, or a nickname or whatever. Use the comments section.

And I posted a new podcast episode last night, right before midnight. Yeah, it came out at 11:57… but it was technically a Monday episode. Back on track, baby! Today, anyway. Here’s the summary:

In this one, I provide exciting updates on a couple of our earlier stories, share a breakdown of the small little things that are irritating me these days, and play a bizarre message left on the hotline. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for listening!

It’s available wherever you get podcasts, right here, or at the widget below.

And I’m calling it a day, my friends. I have work this coming weekend, which is already weighing heavily on my mood. Grrr… Then Nancy and the Translucents will be here for a few days, and then… The Raconteurs in Pittsburgh followed immediately by our Cincinnati trip. And I might see Squeeze/Marshall Crenshaw the day after we return from our Ohio adventure. So, it’s about to get crazy. It’s stressing me out a little if you want to know the truth. There will be no downtime for a long time. And I require the downtime. Oh well.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

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Over the weekend I had a brief encounter with John O’Hurley, who played J. Peterman on Seinfeld. It consisted of the following:

Me: Hey, would you mind if I get a picture?
Him: <silently signals for me to fall into position>

I don’t believe he actually said anything to me. He might’ve grunted an acknowledgment when I thanked him, but nothing beyond that. He wasn’t rude, he just wasn’t opening any doors to conversation. And who could blame him? I certainly don’t. Can you imagine the stupid shit people say in situations like that? It would be maddening. So, I got my photo, thanked him, and extracted myself. It was my gift to him.

This was at a minor league baseball game, by the way. He was there making a personal appearance, presumably for an envelope full of cash. How much would a person of Peterman’s stature be paid for something like that? I’d be interested in knowing, for some reason. He was there from the top of the second inning to the bottom of the sixth. Then he went on the field and sang “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” during the seventh-inning stretch and hightailed it out of there, I’m sure. It was hotter than Satan’s zipper, on top of all the other nonsense.

I’ve met a few celebrities in my life, including many baseball legends at minor league games, not unlike the ones I attended this past Friday and Saturday nights. Most fell into the Peterman category… not openly rude, but just trying to get through it. When I was a kid that was disappointing to me. I thought they’d be friendly and warm and loving every minute of it. Ha! You live and learn, as they say.

Here’s a breakdown of some of the baseball players I met as a Jiffy Pop-haired youngster, and the categories I’d place them in:

Super friendly, just as I’d hoped: Bob Feller, Satchel Paige
Peterman-like: Mickey Mantle, Pete Rose, Sparky Anderson, Whitey Ford, Ralph Kiner
Openly rude: Hank Aaron, Willie Mays

There were others, but those are the ones I can remember off the top o’ my head. Hank Aaron was ridiculous and was also sucking down cigs, which was weird. And Willie was not nice, either. Mickey Mantle was indifferent, and so was Sparky. Those kinda stung a little. I wanted more from both of them. Oh well.

On a more positive note: Bob Feller and Satchel Paige were an absolute delight. They seemed to be having fun and enjoying it as much as we were.

I also met a few musician heroes through the years. I’d put them all into the Peterman category. Paul Westerberg seemed ill-at-ease, but was trying to be friendly. He was making an effort, which I appreciated, but clearly didn’t want to be there. Nick Lowe was the friendliest to me, but I saw him be kind of a dick to a Tower Records employee (heh). He was also drinking bottles of Corona at 10 am, which seemed odd. And Iggy Pop fell dead-center in the Peterman column. Just trying to get through it…

Those were the ones that meant the most to me. I met a bunch of others, being in the business for all those years. But the Big Three for me is Paul, Nick, and Iggy. So far.

What do you have on this one? Have you ever met someone you admired and they acted differently than expected? Please tell us about it. I’m interested in the rude bastards, as well as the super-nice ones. Please bring us up to date on it. Oh, I almost forgot… I also met a couple of writers I admire, and both were exceedingly friendly: Richard Russo and Harry Crews. Those were at book signings at Oxford Books in Atlanta. And, of course, my friend Karen Duffy is one of the nicest, coolest people in the world! What do you have on this? Please share your celebrity encounter experiences in the comments.

And I uploaded a new podcast episode late last night if you’re interested in such things. You can listen below, here, or wherever you get podcasts.

I’m going to a show in Philadelphia on Thursday: Chuck Cleaver and Lisa Walker of the band Wussy. Should be fun! Except for the Philly traffic. Ugh. My tolerance level, at this point, is greatly depleted.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

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