Thursday, February 08, 2007
New Beginning 211
My first encounter with Cincinnati had been a family affair. This was the city where, at the age of thirteen, I had first seen an operatic performance of Romeo and Juliet with my parents. My brother and I had been told we were expanding our horizons, and we were expected to enjoy it. So, in overdrive pretend mode, a skill utterly necessary for psychic survival in my family, we had driven up north, up to see an evening amphitheatre production in the Cincinnati Zoo, and by God, we were happy and grateful to do it.
My second encounter with Cincinnati was an interview with the Playboy Club on my twenty-first birthday. I ended up with a name change and propped-up pantyhose boobs.
I had arrived there at the suggestion of Hoof-Lamp Man. A man with the basic instincts and needs of Neanderthal Man - if Neanderthal Man had instinctually needed to ski in the Rockies, grow his own weed, drink Chivas Regal, and bed Bunnies.
My final encounter with Cincinnati came when I was mugged and shot twice by three members of the Cincinnati Bengals. I had received a ticket to their football game from webbed foot-futon man, and though I'd heard about the Bengals' criminal tendencies, I hardly expected them to attack me while the game was in progress. And they definitely got off easy with that fifteen-yard unnecessary roughness penalty.
Not that I'm complaining, mind you. If I hadn't been shot, I never would have met the surgeon I married: big toe-probe and retractor man.
Opening: Robin Sinnott.....Continuation: EE