Secret Knowledge of Backroads

This weekend I went up to the Annunciation Orthodox Greek festival in my epic quest to try Greek coffee.

Yes, they were selling it.

No, they didn’t have anyone there to make it.

ματαιωμένος πάλι !!

Dejected, I trudged to the basement rummage sale, looked at old clock radios and cameras and bought a 70 year-old book and a 50-year-old record.

The merchants (aka volunteer parishioners) were very friendly and a wee bit inquisitive, forcing me to justify my purchases with a series of babbling non sequitirs before I forked over my dollar-fifty.

Here was the exchange:

(of the book)
“Do you speak Greek?"

“No, no...it’s for my parents”

“Oh, do they speak Greek?”

“No, they live in Texas”


(of the record)
“Oh, this is interesting - ‘Music For Expectant Fathers’. Do you know any expectant fathers?”

“Um, oh, gosh, no…I just thought it was kind of cool and kitschy…”

(at which point the her well-groomed twenty-something sidekick lisps)
“Well, that would certainly be a way to tell a guy, hm? Here ya go!”

I giggled, waved my hands to ward off any such notions and quickly backed away with my purchases.


There are hills of green in Ohio. I have seen them.

The weekend also found me making a journey to the Killbuck Sweet Shoppe in scenic Killbuck, Ohio with the eminently affable NMS. He played chauffer and tour guide as we made our indie rock pilgrimage to the place Mr. David Berman name-checked in his most excellent book “Actual Air.”

Not only that, but I had the pleasure of embarking on a driving tour of Amish country – including both the potbellied tourist traps and the beautiful farms tucked away on back roads. NMS even let me in on the super-secret townie hand signal.

Of course, I can't tell you what it is.

So here, console yourself with some pictures.







Currently spinning:
Earlimart ~ Everyone Down Here