My Austin friends know better than to ask me how Cincinnati is by now. I drove up in December, and by the time I came down in March, they all had had an earful of my frequently unfavorable opinions about the city. I have been ranting about it now for months, and hope that one final vent, and a comparison to two cities I love more, will help purge it from my system so I can get through the fall there in a state of blissful neutrality.

What I Hate About Cincinnati

There are no strip clubs in the entire city, save one Deja Vú, a company for which I hope to never work (they are the Wal-Mart of strip clubs, with similar labor practices). This means I've had to drive at a minimum an hour each day for work. It's in stark contrast to the ten-minute trips in Austin. Plus, it expresses to me that I'm in a city that's hostile to my line of work, and by extension, me. Imagine being a bartender in a dry county, or a plaintiff's attorney in Texas, and you'll understand how unwelcome this small detail makes me feel. Plus, there's HB 23, an extremely strict piece of legislation that would kill the adult industry in Ohio. They clearly don't like my kind here.

There isn't a Whole Foods. I know, I know, there's a Wild Oats, but it really isn't the same thing. I'm used to having the option to shop at food fantasy lands like Central Market and WFM, and now I'm stuck going to Kroger.

The local food specialties are sugary. The local pizza sauce is sweet. The chili is sweet. Does this perhaps belie the immature, infantile tastes of the local populace?

Every time I meet a local artist, writer, or festival organizer, I am seized with both admiration for their persistence in the face of utter indifference and with soul-crushing pity, for I know their efforts are doomed. There is simply not an audience here--at least not an educated one. A friend traced the sad state of Cincinnati audiences to a failure of the local educational system, though I think it goes deeper than that.

And that brings me to the general attitude of the people: it's insular and fearful. These are people so suspicious of change and risk that I'm stunned they ever built a new stadium. I mean, people in Austin and Portland want to keep their cities the way they are or were, but those cities were cool and nice. What can possibly be gained by keeping Cincinnati the same? The tiny percentage of the population trying to actually improve their city is quashed at every turn.

It's just so sad. Some of the most beautiful architecture I've seen is in this city; it's got a ton of cheap available space and a low cost of living, which would seem to make it perfect for artists and new businesses. But the city will have to overcome its inertia and hostility to new endeavors before it can attract them.

They should also calm the hell down about the possible ill effects of some naked breasts; when you have violent crime (yeah, I didn't mention the four or five people killed in the two blocks around my house since I've been there, or the streetwalkers three blocks back, or the drug violence, or how the cops clip civilians) like they have in Cincy, it's laughable to worry about the potential detrimental effects of a couple of titty bars. Of course, I would still not want to work there.

To be continued with my thoughts on Austin, my home, and Portland, my future home.