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Out of the blue, at year's end, here it is: hands down, the best headline of 2006, right in today's New York Times:
YES, YOU CAN SURF IN CLEVELAND, BEFORE THE BROWN WATER FREEZES
Now that's a headline.
The accompanying story is about people who surf on Lake Erie in the winter. That's the lake known, among other things, for
having spontaneously caught fire (I think in the 1970s) at the height of its industrial toxicity. It's cleaner now, so I guess
it's able to freeze.
Have you ever been to Cleveland?
It's cold. Very cold. I have dear relatives there. My cousin was married there earlier this year. We all went. It was a beautiful
wedding. In January. When she announced the date, we all had one question: "Why?"
But Cleveland gets a bad rap. Sure, maybe it's not top-of-mind as a destination for fine weather or eye-popping discovery.
Maybe the word "Wow!" isn't often uttered by visitors to Cleveland (except in winter). But the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is
there, and it's well worth the trip (in the warm season). The Browns play football there. The Indians (I'm going to start
naming sports teams and SUVs after white people and see how they like it in Kansas) play baseball there. Cedar Point, the
big amusement park that was our thrill of thrills when we were kids, is nearby. And of course there's the infamous chemically-altered
lake itself, where once while fishing at Port Clinton I saw my Uncle John catch a bionic catfish that was so huge it made
my father, the consummate fisherman, jealous to the point of ugliness. (We'll just leave that story right there.)
I still can't say that I know Cleveland well. But it reminds me of towns like Buffalo and Baltimore (where I live): sprawling
ex-industrial burgs sporting hard histories and surreal casts of characters and sovereign-state neighborhoods and doggedly
sunny civic optimism and (in the case of Baltimore anyway) quietly high cancer rates.
And I mean no disrespect. I've had fun in Cleveland, and I love my relatives there, who in addition to being wonderful people
also wrote the book on being gracious and caring hosts.
But I have to say that the all-time best line on Cleveland, as far as I know, comes from the novelist and journalist D. Keith
Mano, who once wrote in his review of a book of fiction (and I think my memory comes close to his exact words):
"Reading this book is like watching a hand of bananas turn brown. One by one. In Cleveland."
But, hey. You can surf there. In December. At least until the brown water freezes.
© 2006 Bruce A. Jacobs (Posted 12/10/06)
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