Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Where the Wild Things Are



I'm afraid a mere logo won't do.



That's better.

Spring has proceeded in fits and starts this year in Northeast Ohio. Rain followed by sun followed--I'm not kidding, this was just last week--a freeze alert. I had to scrape the ice off my car window that morning only to drive with the same window down later in the day only to roll it back up again when a thunderstorm passed by. Mother Nature is clearly into mind games. Nevertheless, there's been a few days where spring actually remained for a full 24-hours, and on those  days, when I had the time, I took full advantage of the Cleveland Metroparks system. 



Nicknamed the Emerald Necklace, the Metroparks is a series of nature preserves, some 25,000 acres, found not only or even mostly in the city of Cleveland itself, but throughout the suburbs as well, most of the parks, or reservations, linked by a parkway, allowing for a nice bicycle ride or drive in the country, as long as you stay on the parkway and don't make any lefts or rights onto a main road. I'll show what I mean in one moment, but first a few beads in that aforementioned necklace:









Ah, wilderness! How it does a person good to commune with nature and leave the demands of modernity behind. Though not as far behind as you may think, for just a few minutes' drive from any of these bucolic locations, you'll find sights such as these: 




 

 




 

I'm not showing these pictures with the intent of making developers, investors, and other capitalist types feel guilty (I'm not sure that's even possible) but to demonstrate why the Metropark system is such a treasure. As Cuyahoga Country becomes developed and overdeveloped, it does a soul good knowing that there may be a pastoral getaway just off the main thoroughfare. What I find ironic is to what extent the history of the Metroparks precedes so much of that development. It was a getaway before anything really needed getting away from.





 






This is what much of Cuyahoga County looked like in the first two decades of the 20th century. None of these pictures are of the city of Cleveland proper, which at the time was nearing its Industrial Revolution apex and looked very different from the scenes depicted here. The city was already a metropolis, but one without, really, "suburbs", just villages and townships with fairly sizable expanses of land between them. So how does the Cleveland Metroparks fit into all this? The system got its start in the 1910s when a self-taught engineer and surveyor for Cleveland named William A. Stinchcomb made this statement to city council:

"The importance of conserving our natural resources is now well recognized. Cannot it be truly said that these natural wild beautiful valleys and glens which lie adjacent to our rapidly growing urban centers are a kind of 'natural resource' of ever increasing value to the public?"

Stinchcomb said much the same thing a few years later to the lawmakers in Columbus, Ohio's capitol city, when objections were raised to the acquisition of land on the county level, but the engineer's reasoning prevailed. I'm just surprised that it did. Those pictures of early 20th century Cuyahoga County look pretty rural to me. It was a de facto Metropark. Nevertheless, that aforementioned...
.


  ...Industrial Revolution wasn't going to stay confined to the city of Cleveland for long. If not the factories themselves...


...then the products that emerged from them.

That's why I'm in awe of Stinchcomb. Just as Teddy Roosevelt did when he placed 230 million acres of land under federal protection, Stinchcomb in his more modest way looked into the future, clearly saw what was coming in the way of development and overdevelopment, and figured future generations would appreciate a respite. As a member of one of those future generations, I sure do. 


William A Stinchcomb
 I

 

 

Thursday, April 23, 2026

Quips and Quotations (Flamingo Road Edition)

 


Trump did ruin bad taste. It's no fun anymore.

--John Waters



Orange hair back in the day.


 



Saturday, April 18, 2026

This Day in History

 


Jackie Robinson famously broke the color barrier in Major League Baseball in 1947 when on April 15 of that year he started at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers. All well and good, but professional baseball has a farm system. Before one can break the color barrier in the majors, someone first has to break it in the...



...minors.



Robinson did just that when he made his (non-exhibition game) debut with the Class AAA Montreal Royals on April 18, 1946, in an away game at Roosevelt Stadium against the Jersey City Giants. Robinson's first hit was a three-run home run in the game's third inning. He went on to score four more runs, drive in three, and steal two bases in a Royals 14-1 victory. And that was just the beginning. Robinson went on to lead the International League with a .349 batting average and .985 fielding percentage and was named the league's Most Valuable Player by season's end. By the next season's beginning, he was playing for the Dodgers.

Now, I don't want any of this to sound too rosy. As Pro Baseball's first African American player, Robinson had to put up with a lot of shit, to which, per Dodgers owner Branch Rickey's instructions, he turned the other cheek. There were hotels that his teammates stayed at that he couldn't. An exhibition game in racially segregated Jacksonville, Florida had to be canceled when the stadium was ordered padlocked by the city's Park and Public Property director on the day of the game. Other games were mysteriously canceled as well. 



OK, that was the Jim Crow South, but Jackie Robinson's home team in the minors was above the Mason-Dixon line. For that matter, it was above the United States' northern border. What did Canadians think of Robinson?



They seemed to like him. 

Thursday, April 9, 2026

Graphic Grandeur (Lip Service Edition)

 


If Penguin sez it's a classic I guess it must be, though I confess I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. I did see this Nick Anderson cartoon:



 That should tide me over until I can find time for Niccolo.







Friday, March 20, 2026

Vital Viewing (Falling Debris Edition)

 


500 meteors a year make their way past the Earth's atmosphere. This is a story of one of them:




I happen to live in the area where that meteor fell, but didn't see it because I was inside, and didn't hear the BOOM because I was in a noisy environment at the time, noisy enough that it even drowned out a meteorite. I didn't know anything about it until much later when I was scrolling through the news on my phone. I feel deprived. I didn't get to hear the BOOM. Where is my BOOM? I want to hear a BOOM!

So, by way of compensation:



Call out the National Guard!

Saturday, March 14, 2026

Quips and Quotations (Frames of Reverence Edition)

 


They cheer me because they understand me, and they cheer you because no one understands you.

--Charlie Chaplin, upon meeting Albert Einstein.