58th Street

Home: W. 58^th St., Cleveland Ohio.  Here in the heartland many pride themselves on being the pulse of the nation.  We Ohioans decide elections.  We watch football.  We farm, industrialize and innovate.  We are America.

   It is my personal view that Clevelanders, in particular, typify the group of Ohioans who particularly cling to the specific anatomical similarity derived from their location.  Columbusonians will probably be among the first to object to this claim.

Columbusonians are also a proud breed, which, in fact, is home to the state capitol, which means that it is true a lot of politicking gets done there.  & I realize a certain constituent of Michiganders may come to read this knowing little about Ohio outside of college football, completely ignorant to the vast cultural inequities a place like Columbus has compared to one like Cleveland.

Economically metaphorically, OSU in your city is like giving a personified metropolitan area a perpetual IV tap, the source of which is vital nutrients donated by close relatives until they are all but drained.  Also, there’s the Arnold Classic.

Southern Ohioans may also object to the notion that Cleveland, more than other Ohio cities performs the States’ vital pulmonary function.  & I cannot deny, there are many fine establishments and restaurants in Cincinnati.  It’s nice.  But I’ll put it like this, if you don’t care about the NBA, which, of course, currently includes any self-respecting Clevelander: Cleveland is a little more blue state and Cinci is a little more red state. 

Cleveland is colder though, and the grit is takes to keep the beat— the stiff-inhalation, jaw-clenched American—that one came from Cleveland.  Then he/she spit.

A weave on 58th Street.

If we continue to suspend belief, you will understand W. 58^th Street between Lorain & Detroit Avenues to be the very epicenter of the entire country’s mother-fucking life force.  I found it difficult to believe at first as well.  But I’ve done some sleuthing and here are the facts, listed as they can be viewed walking north from Lorain:

1.         Weaves on the street.  I have been following this phenomenon for more than a year now.  I can only conclude that there is some kind of vortex that sucks up lost weaves and redistributes them on 58^th. 

(As a particularly boggling side note:
my artist-friend Ben silkscreens
 t-shirts and he made this one, which is def one
 of my faves, is it weaves or squids? You decide.)

2.         The shady-ass prostitution and drug dealing that happens from time to time at 58^th & Lorain.  Now, I know, I know, sometimes it really is just people waiting for the bus but other times…some shady-ass shit goes down on 58^th I promise you.  Mean-looking muscular men will discourage pedestrians from walking down "occupied" courts/alleys.  Drivers shout dollar amounts to the ladies on the corner.  One time my brother and I noticed the same woman working the corner three times a few hours apart.  The first time she just looked like a your typical overweight, scantily-clad corner person.  But the second time she was crying, holding her crotch and the third time she had a black eye.  This may actually be an explanation of #1, now that I’m writing it all out.

3.         Simons Park: A small donated garden with a sign at the northeast Bridge corner. “No Pets.” It stays clean.  People respect the sign.  -See 58^th has a little bit of everything.  There are beautiful 100-year-old stone homes next to row houses.  Audis and rusted-out vans.  It’s kind of a cluster, but between Lorain and Detroit is a community-volunteered, beautification project.  You’d miss it if you didn’t know it was there.  It’s a botanical gesture that allows the gentrified hippies and the angsty, high-schoolers a similar pride, and though this isn’t a beach out in the wherever, it’s just fine.

Of course, it is also common to see people blowing or otherwise raking leaves and grass clippings directly into the street, which suggests a general ignorance (at least of composting) and simultaneous compulsory need to have the appearance of a clean lawn.  Truly American.

4.        Sometimes the teenage girl that lives across the street from me sits on her roof.  The police go over there from time to time.  She can sit on the roof for hours.  I tried talking to her once.  Well, she talked to me.

“Can you call the police?”

“What’s going on?” I said.

“Please, just call the police.”

“Well, tell me what’s going on and I’ll decide whether to call the police.” I said.

An adult came to the window and insisted that everything was OK and that the police had already been there, which I later confirmed.

When you look over the rooftops to the east, you can see the downtown skyline.  It is just distant enough to be an ever-present reminder that we are here together in a series of different communities: the home; the block; the neighborhood; the city; the region; and so on…58 blocks out is perspective from but connected to the whole.

5.       The tasteful, hipstery bars at the Detroit-end of 58^th.  I mean, the Happy Dog: live music, trivia and hot dogs. Spice: well-done, American fusion with local ingredients.  Latitude 41 is ok.  –Wait. What? You’re not a hipster? You’re reading a blog.  You don’t like hot dogs?  Maybe you’re not American? Yes, they have vegan – Or would you rather go some place a little quieter, lil’ I’unno’ what…don worry, drink, I live right down the street…

6.         The Parkview: The local bar.  Good food, a brunch, live music and a view of the lake if you step outside.  Of course, there’s also a view of an all-but abandoned factory and a highway, but it really adds to the Cleveland-ness.  The PV sits on a bit of a hill and watching the cars pass, especially at night, it’s the best place to lay future plans of sledding, city planning and lake access, for that matter, where to spend the rest of an evening or even the rest of your life.  The heart beats a little deeper on this kind of night.  A thinning of the blood accounts for a certain percentage of the sensation, but light, shadows, waves – they play a part.

That's a home grown zucchini
 posing with the doggies.

Tact is the gateway through which 58^th Street is guiding the rest of us.  The readiness and acceptance required to navigate from Lorain to Detroit; see the lake, and see a better future is why people will wave and chat with each other; sit on the porch; hang out on the stoop.  Sure, a radio or two gets jacked, but when we speak to each other it’s with candor, a look in the eye, and a little hint that I have 5 big dogs that are kinda hard to control.