First Bite

Some hotel restaurants feel like holding patterns, places designed to soften the edges of travel and little more. Fathoms, tucked inside the Renaissance Mobile Riverview Plaza Hotel, pushes against that fate with quiet confidence. The room carries a kind of easy warmth, cozy without being cramped, polished without drifting into stiffness. It feels built for the traveler who wants comfort and the local who wants a dependable table, which is a trick harder than it looks.

That first impression held once the service began. From the host stand to the bar, from the floor staff to the pacing of the meal itself, the place moved with the steady rhythm of people who know exactly what kind of evening they are trying to give you. Hospitality here was not a performance. It was simply present, which is rarer than the industry likes to admit.

Please consider Donating to Sponsor an article even $1 helps!

The Hook

The food arrived with the sort of assurance that makes a critic sit up a little straighter. Seared ahi on arugula with grilled avocado can so easily become a collage of fashionable ingredients, all attitude and no pulse. Here, it sounds like it landed the way it should, clean and balanced, with the richness of the avocado meeting the sharper green bite beneath it.

Across the table, the meal widened rather than wobbled. A large salad arrived looking like what a serious salad should look like, generous, loaded, built with intent instead of obligation.

Then came the ringer, a 14-ounce ribeye with mashed potatoes, the kind of order that leaves nowhere to hide. A steak either earns its praise or it doesn’t. This one did, and the potatoes came within striking distance of family legend. When a daughter says they are almost as good as Mamaw’s, that is not garnish. That is testimony.

Peach bourbon shrimp, meanwhile, walks a line between sweetness and swagger. In less careful hands, that kind of dish can turn syrupy fast. At Fathoms, it seems to have kept its footing.

The Bridge

What makes this meal linger is not only that everything was cooked well, though that matters. It is that the restaurant seems to understand its own setting. In downtown Mobile, near the long pull of the Mobile River, there is a natural temptation for a hotel dining room to lean on scenery, convenience, or the captive audience upstairs. Fathoms appears to have chosen the harder road. It wants to satisfy, fully and honestly, whether you came downstairs from an elevator bank or in from the Alabama heat with a reservation and a healthy dose of skepticism.

That seriousness shows in the breadth of the table you describe. Seafood, steak, salad, all of it landing with the same note of care. Many restaurants can produce one standout dish. Fathoms seems more interested in producing a complete dinner, one where every person at the table feels considered. That is the difference between a place you remember and a place you recommend.

The Outro

There is no need to inflate this kind of experience into a grand theory of dining. Sometimes the most persuasive review is the simplest one. You were treated well. The room felt beautiful and welcoming. The food was cooked to perfection and tasted excellent from plate to plate. Dinner left your table happy, full, and a little impressed.

That is the whole song, really. Fathoms does not need theatrics when it can deliver satisfaction this complete. For a restaurant in a setting where expectations are often modest, it sounds like this one cleared the bar and kept going.

I’d sing its praises 5/5

Please consider Donating to Sponsor an article even $1 helps!

Inside Mobile Records & Paul’s Trading Post, Where Music History Still Spins

A few years ago, while in Mobile for a conference, that instinct led me down a familiar path — digging through listings, scanning streets, chasing the promise of hidden gems. That search first landed me inside Mobile Records, a cramped little shop bursting at the seams. But what it lacked in space, it made up for in spirit. The owner was one of those rare, old-school music lifers — Fantastic Guy!

Still, the real discovery came a little later.

Tucked along Dauphin Street sat Paul’s Trading Post a place that didn’t just sell music, but seemed to breathe it. I remember walking in and immediately feeling like I’d stumbled into something special. Not polished. Not corporate. Just real.

Coming back years later, I was curious. Shops like this either fade quietly or evolve into something bigger than themselves.

What Paul and Alicia have built here is more than a store — it’s a hub for Mobile’s music culture. The shelves stretch across formats and generations, from dusty 8-tracks to pristine modern vinyl pressings. Whether you’re a crate-digger chasing nostalgia or a newer collector building your first setup, the selection hits that sweet spot between depth and discovery.

But what makes this place linger in your mind isn’t just the music.

It’s everything around it.

Vintage electronics line the space like relics from another era — receivers, speakers, and turntables that feel like they’ve lived a hundred stories. And the turntables themselves? Some absolute gems, priced in a way that makes you double-check the tag just to be sure you read it right.

There’s a rhythm to the shop. A quiet hum of history and possibility. You don’t rush through a place like this — you wander, you dig, you lose track of time.

If you find yourself anywhere near Mobile, Alabama, make the stop. Walk into Paul’s Trading Post, take a breath, and let the room do its thing.

And if you want a glimpse before you go, you can catch what they’re spinning over on their Facebook page.

Some places sell music.

Others keep it alive.

First Impressions Matter — Even on the Phone

The experience began before I even stepped through the doors.

Hoping to move my reservation 45 minutes earlier during peak lunch hours, I anticipated resistance. Instead, I was met with an easy reassurance, no problem at all. The host’s tone carried a warmth often discussed but rarely felt, the kind where, as the saying goes, you can hear the smile on the other end of the line.

That same host greeted me upon arrival with identical enthusiasm. In an era where hospitality can feel transactional, the consistency stood out.

An Atmosphere Built on Light and Comfort

The Edina location strikes a balance between rustic and refined. Expansive windows line the dining room, allowing natural light to flood the space. A welcome contrast to Minnesota’s winter gray. The effect is immediate. Warm, open, and inviting.

The patio, though dormant in the colder months, appears positioned to be a prime destination when temperatures rise. Even indoors, the restaurant feels connected to the outside, and it’s easy to imagine the space taking on a different kind of glow at sunset.

An Efficient, Guest-First Service Model

After being seated, my server Amy approached with the customary question about menu readiness. Because of a slightly longer initial wait, whether intentional pacing or simple oversight, I was prepared to order both my drink and entrée immediately.

Rather than viewing the delay negatively, the streamlined approach felt efficient. Many dining experiences stretch unnecessarily with staggered ordering. Here, the front-loaded wait eliminated that lull between courses. It was an unexpectedly welcome deviation from routine.

The Meal

Before any ordered items arrived, warm bread and remarkably soft butter were placed on the table. A small but meaningful gesture that instantly elevated the experience.

My blueberry Arnold Palmer followed, offering a refreshing counterbalance to the previous day’s festivities.

Then came a subtle moment of culinary theater. A cup of lobster bisque finished tableside. Amy poured the velvety soup into a bowl already layered with lobster pieces, croutons, and oil. The presentation transformed what could have been a standard starter into something memorable.

The entrée, seafood fettuccine alfredo with generous portions of shrimp and scallops, delivered exactly what it promised with richness, balance, and comfort. Freshly cracked pepper from a tableside mill added a final flourish, reminiscent of the service I received in Greece and reinforcing the restaurant’s attention to detail.

Dessert Worth the Commitment

When asked about dessert, I hesitated. But curiosity won.

Torn between crème brûlée and a candied walnut upside-down apple pie, I deferred to Amy’s recommendation. She didn’t hesitate, “Get the pie.”

What arrived was sizable, far larger than expected, topped with two scoops of ice cream and a caramel glaze. It was indulgent without being overwhelming, and easily one of the most satisfying conclusions to a lunch in recent memory. The recommendation did not disappoint.

A Reliable Option in Edina’s Dining Scene

For non-drinkers like myself, the beverage menu still offers creative non-alcoholic options. For others, the wine and cocktail selections are extensive and thoughtfully curated.

In a dining market saturated with trendy pop-ups and concept-driven menus, McCormick & Schmick’s succeeds by leaning into what it does best. Polished service, well-executed seafood, and an atmosphere that encourages guests to settle in.

For those in or near Edina, this location remains a dependable choice, whether for a full multi-course meal or simply a drink and appetizer on the patio when warmer days return. You can’t go wrong at McCormicks and Schmicks.

4 out of 5 stars.

Toughest Monster Truck Tour thundered into the Denny Sanford PREMIER Center in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, transforming the arena into a living science lab disguised as a motorsports spectacle. This wasn’t just a night of roaring engines and flying dirt. It was a great family event with hands-on lessons in engineering, physics, and controlled chaos, delivered at full throttle.

Before the engines ever fired, the night had already won.

Up Close in the Dirt Pit

With dirt pit access before the show, the trucks stopped being distant giants and became tangible machines. Standing inches away, the boys could see the scale, the wear, and the intentional brutality built into every component. Autographs were collected, smiles were locked in, and a brand-new Hot Wheels version of the LEGO-themed truck became instant treasure.

The questions started early.

Orion wanted to know why crews watered the dirt before the event. The answer revealed the unseen planning behind the mayhem. Moist dirt packs tighter, reduces dust, and provides predictable traction. Dry dirt turns into a wildcard. Monster trucks demand drama, not guesswork.

William noticed something even subtler. Drivers never opened the doors. They climbed in from underneath. Monster truck doors are mostly cosmetic. Structural integrity matters more than convenience when a vehicle is expected to land sideways and keep moving.

The show hadn’t even started, and learning was already in full swing.

When Education Meets Horsepower

Once the trucks rolled out, the announcers leaned into explanation instead of empty hype. Between runs, the crowd learned how auto-leveling systems help keep trucks upright when gravity gets ambitious. The reverse and shifting mechanisms were broken down so fans could understand how drivers recover quickly after brutal landings.

Safety took center stage too. The importance of a properly secured fuel cap wasn’t glossed over. Fires have started in the past when that small detail was ignored. Thousands of pounds of steel powered by fuel leave no room for shortcuts.

It was refreshing to see a motorsports event trust its audience with real information instead of just noise.

The Lineup and the Moment That Stuck

The night featured a full lineup from the Toughest Monster Truck Tour, including Dirt Crew driven by Jerry Beck, Dozer with David Olfert, Blockhead piloted by Tim Missentzis, Maximus driven by Jared Smith, Jurassic Attack, and Velociraptor driven by Preston Collins.

Each truck brought its own personality, but one moment burned itself into memory. Watching the Velociraptor truck roll over wasn’t frightening. It was fascinating. The recovery, the systems kicking in, the driver’s calm response. It was a live demonstration that these events aren’t scripted. They’re calculated risks managed by experience and engineering.

For the boys, that rollover wasn’t a failure. It was proof that even professionals adapt in real time.

Making it even more special to them was knowing that somewhere in that dirt, their names that they had written earlier on the dirt bikes were still being carried around the track.

More Than a Show

By the end of the night, the excitement hadn’t faded into exhaustion. It had transformed into conversation. The boys talked about mechanics, safety, design choices, and why small details matter when machines operate at the edge of possibility.

The monster truck show in Sioux Falls didn’t just entertain. It educated without preaching, inspired without trying, and reminded everyone in the building that learning doesn’t always happen behind desks.

Sometimes it happens standing in the dirt, looking up at something impossibly large, and realizing someone figured out how to make it move anyway.

First Bite

For a party of nine, the brunch begins with logistics. Cascata’s OpenTable cap at six means a party of nine requires something more analog, an actual phone call to a host willing to play Tetris with tables. By the time you arrive at Cascata Italian Cuisine, folded into the new Steel District and the Canopy by Hilton in Downtown Sioux Falls, the plan is already in motion.

The welcome is immediate and warm, first from the staff at the door, then from the host who clearly remembers the bigger booking. Your table is ready, four smaller ones pushed together into a long brunch runway. Three match, one does not, a slightly off-size end piece that gives the setup a faintly improvised look. The water glasses, on the other hand, are unmistakably intentional, nicely weighted and more refined than the average hotel brunch service. Before the first plate lands, you can feel the place reaching for “special.”

The Hook

The food follows the grammar of comfort, upgraded just enough to feel like an occasion. Orion went straight for blueberry pancakes, I chose the caramel apple French toast.

His pancakes arrive with a side of lemon ricotta that actually does some work. The ricotta is light and bright, the citrus cutting through sweetness rather than adding more heft. Each forkful has a bit of lift to it, the blueberries and syrup kept in check so the dish tastes composed instead of sticky and one-note.

My French toast leaned into nostalgia but with a little restraint. Thick slices are drenched in caramel glaze and topped with green apples cooked to the exact right point, softened yet still holding a distinct bite. That bit of resistance keeps the sweetness from overwhelming everything, a sharp, tart edge meeting the sugar halfway. It is not revolutionary, but it is clearly thought through.

For the birthday in the group, the kitchen sends out a complimentary cannoli, plated with a dark chocolate “happy birthday” sign you can actually eat. The filling comes in three distinct flavors across the shared dessert experience, lemon ricotta with chocolate chips, raspberry, and hazelnut. Each is solid, classic rather than showy, the kind of pastry that makes sense at the end of a hotel brunch where the goal is warmth over spectacle.

What keeps the experience from quite matching the ambition is the quiet drag of inattentive drink service. My water glass sat empty more than once, long enough to notice, then notice again. In a restaurant angling for the higher end of the spectrum, that kind of basic neglect stands out more than it would in a diner.

The Bridge

Cascata wants to be more than a hotel restaurant, and you can feel that ambition in nearly every detail. The branding leans into rustic Italian flavors with a modern polish, the space connects to a gleaming riverside development, and the menu promises something above the standard “breakfast included” spread. The nicer glassware, the smooth handling of a large reservation, the complimentary birthday gesture, all of that fits the story the restaurant is trying to tell.

Yet the experience you have is more modest. The food is good, occasionally brushing up against great in the way the lemon ricotta brightens pancakes or the green apples keep French toast from becoming a sugar brick. The service is friendly at the door but loses focus at the table. The room looks the part, but the mismatched fourth table and empty glasses break the illusion just enough to remind you where you are, a higher end concept grafted onto a Midwestern hotel with all the compromises that implies.

It leaves Cascata in an in-between place. It outperforms the generic lobby restaurant by a comfortable margin, but it does not quite step into the role of true destination brunch spot. You taste potential, you see effort, you also see the limits of a space doing triple duty for hotel guests, weekend brunchers, and evening diners.

The Outro

You walk out feeling mostly satisfied, if not smitten. The greeting was gracious, the big-group seating handled without drama, Orion’s pancakes well balanced, my caramel apple French toast smartly constructed, the birthday cannoli generous and genuinely sweet in spirit. At the same time, the details that separate “good” from “great” are not all there yet, from the improvised table configuration to those neglected refills that quietly undercut the polish.

Cascata, for now, feels exactly like what it is, a higher end restaurant inside a shiny new hotel, reaching upward with some real intention but not quite soaring. For travelers staying upstairs, it is an easy recommendation. For locals, it is a pleasant brunch option rather than a must-visit, a place you are glad to have in the mix even if you are not rearranging your weekend around it.

I’d sing its praises 3/5.

Restaurants are already performances. Think a room full of strangers, a cast in the kitchen, and a set list printed on cardstock. So from now on, our reviews are going to treat them like what they are — full-on shows.

Welcome to a musically inclined review system, our new system where food, service, and atmosphere get the same treatment we usually reserve for albums and live sets. Every piece will follow the same structure, so you know exactly what you’re getting and how to read the score.

Think of it as liner notes for your next meal.

The Structure: From “First Bite” to “Outro”

1. First Bite

This is the opening riff.

We set the scene:

• Where you are

• Who’s behind the place

• What kind of story they’re trying to tell on the plate

First Bite is all about vibe and context. The neighborhood, the crowd, the first thing you notice when you walk in — this is where we capture that.

2. The Hook

The moment that makes you go, “Oh, okay, they’re serious.”

Here we zoom in on what grabs us most:

• A standout dish

• A surprising flavor combination

• A service moment that changes the whole night

The Hook is where we answer the question, “What makes this place worth talking about at all?”

If there is no hook… that tells its own story.

3. The Bridge

This is the part where we dig deeper. No skips.

Here we break down the experience track-by-track:

• How the menu actually eats (not just how it reads)

• Texture, flavor, and execution over multiple visits

• Service, pacing, noise level, accessibility, pricing

• How the restaurant fits into its community (or ignores it)

The Bridge is where the journalism lives. It will be specific, honest, and fair. No cheap shots, no soft-focus hype, just what we actually experienced.

4. The Outro

The verdict. The fade-out. The part you screenshot.

In the Outro, we give you:

• The bottom-line recommendation (go now, go later, or don’t bother)

• What to order if you do go

• And our official rating on the new Musically Inclined scale

This is where we step back and ask: “If you had one night, one paycheck, and a hungry crew—should this place make the cut?”

The Rating: Fork-and-Spoon Notes (1–5)

Stars are for hotels.
We’re in the business of sound and flavor, so our reviews use those red fork-and-spoon musical notes you just designed as our rating symbol.

Here’s how to read them:

🎵 1 Note – Off-Key

Something’s fundamentally wrong: food, service, or ethics. We went so you don’t have to.

🎵🎵 2 Notes – Needs a Remix

There are flashes of something interesting, but too many misses to recommend it unless you’re already nearby and curious.

🎵🎵🎵 3 Notes – Solid Groove

A good, reliable spot. Not life-changing, but you’ll eat well and probably go back. Strong neighborhood player.

🎵🎵🎵🎵 4 Notes – On Repeat

This is where we start rearranging plans to fit it in. The food hits, the room works, and the details feel intentional.

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵 5 Notes – Instant Classic

The rare ones. Destination-worthy. A place that feels like a complete album: concept, execution, and emotion all locked in.

What This Means Going Forward

From here on out, every review in our food coverage will:

• Live under the Ramblin’ man section

• Follow the same First Bite → Hook → Bridge → Outro structure

• End with a clear 1–5 note rating using your fork-and-spoon icons

• Treat corner joints and fine dining with the same critical seriousness

We’re not here to posture as untouchable “critics on high.” We’re here to be your unflinchingly honest friend who loves music, loves food, and refuses to pretend they’re separate worlds.

So cue up the playlist, grab your crew, and watch for the notes at the end of each piece. If we give a place five of those red fork-notes, you’ll know: this isn’t just dinner — it’s a record you’re going to want to play again.

The first food review post using this template will release this Thursday, December 4th!

The clock starts at five

The Gatsby ballet starts at six. Emily — my vegetarian best friend — and I booked Harvester Kitchen for five. That’s a gamble at any tasting-menu house, but this one is built for intention: an intimate, chef-owned room in the historic Harvester Building whose menus pivot with the season.

They knew our constraint. A staffer called ahead to confirm we were comfortable with the typical two-hour arc and promised to tune the pacing. At the door, jackets disappeared, stress did too, and a familiar server — our kids share a school — made the room feel smaller in the good way.

What they serve when time is tight

We chose the Chef’s Menu — four courses plus dessert, a five-plate cadence that can bend without breaking. That fixed structure is the quiet superpower. It lets the kitchen compress service without cutting corners and gives vegetarians a parallel path that mirrors the architecture of the meal.

The amuse was a small, fusion-leaning fish bite — more palate — wake than amuse-bomb. Then the first course sang: Badger Flame beets, citrus-bright and clean, the usual earthiness edited out. They’re sunset-colored by nature. The kitchen leaned into that.

Course two rode on texture. A fillet with a gently charred edge rested on roast-garlic soubise, stacked with frizzled shallots and a charred leek that did the anchoring and the whispering at once. Emily’s vegetarian version kept the balance rather than swapping in a shrug.

Next came a fresh pasta — silky, consoling, the kind of course that narrows conversation to forks and nods.

The closer, American Wagyu, was too plush for me texturally; I boxed most of it. My husband later called it “perfect,” which is its own data point from a fresh perspective.

Dessert arrived… later. The team tucked it to-go, neat and labeled, with an extra little sweet — hospitality as practicality.

The glass matters here

We returned to an ice wine we’d loved on a previous visit—honeyed, precise, and a smart foil for the savory arc. The list isn’t a trophy wall; the program earned Wine Spectator’s Best of Award of Excellence in 2025, and staff talk pairings like they mean it. Harvester’s wine culture extends beyond dinner via the monthly Harvester Wine Circle, which keeps the conversation going between services.

Emily’s Field Notes (from the next seat over)

“They prepared vegetarian substitutions with no notice and took on our limited time frame with gusto. Staff were knowledgeable and personable, timing everything impeccably and keeping us at ease with light, enjoyable banter — even under a panic-inducing clock.

The experience lingers. We left with a Polaroid, homemade caramel, and a pastry goody bag to go. The dining room feels open and spacious, the atmosphere calming when it’s not packed, and the chef’s passion shows in the variety of flavors, techniques, and plating — he welcomes a challenge. The open kitchen lets you watch the work. They even called to confirm timing and prepare the team to accommodate us.” — Emily

Place, purpose, pacing

The room looks out from a windowed loft downtown. The address — 196 E. 6th St., Unit 101 — is the one you pencil when you want to eat like a city with confidence. Doors open Wednesday–Sunday at five; if you’re racing a curtain, call. They’ll meet you halfway and then some.

Verdict

Harvester Kitchen is engineered for the long arc, but it can time-box without losing its soul. The beets are a thesis, the charred leek a footnote you remember, the service a metronome you don’t notice until you need it. Sioux Falls doesn’t need a big room to make a big point. Please note this is one of the more expensive places in town to eat so we usually reserve it for anniversaries and special occasions in our house, but it is definitely worth the experience for our fair city.

On November 10, 2025, the morning after the 4th Annual Iowa Music Awards (held Nov. 9 at Burlington’s Memorial Auditorium), we refueled at The Hungry Bear — a twelve-table, bar-seat-snug diner where the coffee moves like a river and plates land heavy.

A Sign With a Second Life

Near the register sits a vintage “Hungry Bear” sign — red letters, toothy mascot, the kind of artifact that smells like pancakes and memory. The owner is raffling it off to raise money for the local humane society, turning old branding into fresh help for animals that need it. That’s more than décor. It’s a handoff from one generation of regulars to the next. A local gets to own a slice of Burlington breakfast history, and the community gets a tangible win right back.

It’s the house ethos in miniature: feed people well, then feed the neighborhood. The same crew that keeps coffee topped off is quietly funding vet bills and kibble runs. Call it bear energy — strong, generous, and protective of its den.

The Den: Small Footprint, Big Welcome

This place is built like a tour van — compact, clever, everything where it should be. A dozen tables, bar seating, clean bathrooms, and a full kitchen that hums without showboating. It’s the small-town diner feeling you remember. Regulars are on a first-name basis, and the staff tops your mug before you realize it’s low. When we’re traveling, we hunt rooms like this instead of handing another travel memory to a franchise.

Bear-Sized Plates

I went straight for a ham-and-cheese omelet. Mike tackled chicken-fried steak. Both arrived hot, honest, and generous — no garnish games, just food that does the job. My omelet was loaded with real ham (chunks, not confetti), and the parade of plates around us looked equally dialed-in. The pancakes? Pure grizzly. If you’re a flapjack person, make a morning of it. The public listings and reviews have been yelling about their size for years, and they’re not wrong.

Quick Paws, No Drama

Service moved like a practiced band: heads up, tickets flowing, coffee hot, checks ready when you were. By the time we settled in, the room was halfway full and nobody waited long for anything that mattered.

Roots in the Town, Not a Trend

The Hungry Bear traces back to the 1970s, with the current owner in year seven after working there through high school and college. It’s been a Burlington fixture for a long while, and folks keep leaving a thick trail of reviews, photos, and hours across multiple listings.

Pawprints on the Map

By the door, a corkboard United States keeps score in pushpins. Clusters bloom around the Midwest, then leap to the coasts — little pins like tiny plastic pawprints tracing where Hungry Bear regulars and wanderers came from to eat pancakes the size of LPs. We added the first pin from the Sioux Falls, South Dakota area, tucked just above the Iowa line like a wink across the river — a fresh dot of our own. The staff noticed, the room approved, and in that small clack of thumbtack-on-cork, breakfast turned into a roll call. It’s a sweet ritual. You don’t just pay the check and vanish — you leave a marker, a little “we were here,” stitched into a wall that keeps the story going long after the coffee cools.

Disclosure:

Big thanks to The Hungry Bear for sponsoring our breakfast and supporting our coverage of the Iowa Music Awards. The owner is a high-school classmate of August G, one of this year’s hosts, and when they heard we were in town, they offered to sponsor our morning-after meal. The check was covered. The words, photos, and judgments are ours.

There’s just something sacred about the College World Series. Maybe it’s the tradition, maybe it’s the ping of aluminum bats echoing through Omaha, or maybe—just maybe—it’s the beautiful unpredictability of not knowing which team you’ll see when you snag tickets early and cheap. For us, that gamble paid off in divine fashion.

Our crew made the three-hour pilgrimage under a scorching 90-degree sun with barely a breeze to cool us, armed with sunscreen, stadium nachos, and the stubborn hope we’d catch a good one. What we got was an instant classic: Arkansas vs. Murray State, and one of the greatest pitching performances in CWS history.

From the first pitch, Arkansas looked sharp—striking early with a run on the board and threatening for more. But credit to Murray State’s defense, who kept it from becoming a runaway. Still, the real story was brewing on the mound.

By the 7th inning, the murmurs turned into wide-eyed whispers: Gage Wood, Arkansas’ ace, still had a perfect game intact. Every pitch had bite. Every strikeout felt heavier. Every fan in the stands started to realize they were watching something special.

Then came the heartbreak that only baseball can deliver.

Top of the 8th. First batter. A hanging breaking ball clips the Murray State hitter. Just like that—no more perfect game. But the no-hitter? Still alive. And now all eyes turned to the Arkansas dugout. Would Wood come back out? After over 100 pitches, surely his night was done…

Nope.

Gage Wood strode back to the mound, I’m hat low, jaw set, a man on a mission.

The crowd was on their feet. Every pitch sent a wave through the stadium.

One out…

Two outs…

Three outs.

History.

Gage Wood completed the first no-hitter in the CWS since 1960, a 65-year drought shattered in spectacular style. And as if that wasn’t enough, he did it while breaking the single-game strikeout record with 19 Ks.

It was baseball poetry—sweaty, sunburned, spine-tingling poetry.

These are the moments that remind us why we sit through heat waves, eat overpriced hot dogs, and scream ourselves hoarse from metal bleachers. Watching college kids leave it all on the field—that’s the soul of the CWS.

And this year, we didn’t just watch a game.

We watched a legend get written.

Stepping into Hell's Kitchen, I was immediately captivated by the ambiance, particularly the bathroom art, which was hauntingly great and set the tone for an intriguing dining experience. The establishment offers a unique twist on familiar culinary staples, starting with their beverage selection. I opted for a "Dr. Better," a local crafted soda reminiscent of Dr. Pepper, which was a delightful surprise.

Our meal began with the walleye bites and cheese curd appetizers. The cheese curds were an unexpected delight; they were puffy, fried in a style reminiscent of Asian cuisine, and served with a sweet and sour sauce that complemented them perfectly. The walleye was excellently prepared, showcasing the chef's skill in balancing flavors.

For the main course, I chose the mac and cheese with bison. It was wonderfully seasoned, with just the right amount of kick, making it a standout dish. My dining companion, Ben, enjoyed his burger but felt it could have used a tad more peanut butter. He did, however, praise the house dry rub, noting its unique pizza-like taste.

The only minor drawback was that my drink ran empty for a while, especially given the spicy undertones of the dishes, but this was a small blip in an otherwise flawless service.

Dessert was a rich, dense brownie that was beautifully complemented by tart raspberry and the waitress's recommendation of ice cream. However, the real treat was watching a long ginger-bearded employee sing Alanis Morissette's "Ironic" while working, adding a touch of humor and charm to our evening.

I also appreciated the personal touch of an employee bringing out caramel for a customer's meal to try alongside syrup, truly personalizing the dining experience.

Overall, Hell's Kitchen offers a distinctive and memorable dining experience with its creative menu, vibrant atmosphere, and attentive service. I look forward to returning and exploring more of their unique offerings.

Lindey's, nestled in the charming German Village of Columbus, is a culinary experience that beautifully marries modern sophistication with a touch of classic elegance.

From the moment we walked through the door, it was clear that this restaurant prides itself on thoughtful details, right down to our waiter, a fellow "lost lander," who instantly made us feel at home.

The ambiance strikes a perfect balance between contemporary and traditional. The decor features unique modern art pieces that add a splash of creativity, while the antique-like copper ceiling, finished in a sleek silver, lends an air of timelessness. It’s a refreshing setting where old school professionalism meets the vibrant energy of the new-age rock music playing overhead, making for an enjoyable dining atmosphere.

One of the first touches that impressed us was the bottle of sweet wine awaiting us at the table, just as I had requested for my wife. This thoughtful gesture set a positive tone for the evening and showcased the staff's attentiveness. Speaking of the staff, their genuine enthusiasm was palpable; every team member seemed to enjoy their job, and even after a minor mishap where two employees collided and a dish fell, the environment remained upbeat and cheerful. It’s evident that Lindey's is well-managed, fostering a supportive team spirit that translates into excellent service.

In an era where dining out can often feel burdened by rising costs, Lindey's stands out for its fair pricing without compromising on quality. The restaurant attracts a diverse clientele, each table a reflection of varying backgrounds and tastes, which adds to the welcoming atmosphere. I couldn’t help but notice the "to-go" menu; perhaps this is part of their strategy to offer larger orders at reasonable prices, making their delectable offerings accessible to more patrons.

Now, onto the food—where Lindey's truly shines. The complimentary bread loaf was a delightful start, warm and inviting. The calamari and shrimp were cooked to perfection, accompanied by sauces that elevated the dishes to new heights. My salad was fresh and vibrant, while my wife’s fish entrée was flawlessly prepared, showcasing the chefs' skill and attention to detail.

The cherry on top for us was that crème brûlée was a dessert choice which is always one of our favorites. Let me assure you, It did not disappoint.

As a server myself in the past I was happy to see my server didn’t miss a beat. Anything that wasn’t needed was cleared and my drink never emptied. Very satisfied customer this night!

Overall, Lindey's in German Village is a remarkable dining destination that successfully blends a modern aesthetic with classic hospitality. With its impressive food, attentive service, and fair pricing, it’s no wonder this restaurant is a favorite among locals and visitors alike. I wholeheartedly recommend Lindey's for anyone looking to enjoy a memorable meal in a welcoming environment. Whatever they are doing, they are certainly doing it right!

The College World Series Gator vs Aggie Game 4 was a rollercoaster of emotions, rain delays, and comical moments. From the start of the day, with a long drive to Omaha and a stop at Burger Theory for some fuel, to the post-game lime scooter ride back to the Uhaul, it was a day filled with memorable moments.

The rain delay was no joke. It felt like we were waiting for Noah to finish building his ark before we could finally make it to the game. But hey, at least we had some inside knowledge and were able to sneak back to the stadium before the official announcement. We were like secret agents, except our mission was to watch baseball.

Before the game even started it was like watching a nature documentary, with swallows grabbing moths out of the air while memories came flooding back of birds flying over the fence into the outfield from the lake in my high school days. I also had some fun interesting crowd encounters. I met a fellow Sioux Falls resident, Bob Koenig, who happened to be at his first World Series game as well sitting next to me. We bonded over our love for baseball and our respective family stories. And when he saw my new pink Rawlings glove, he jokingly told me it was my job to protect him. After a quick joke about respecting and protecting my elders we had a good chuckle together. Who knew baseball could foster such great friendships?

Now, let's talk about the game itself. As a neutral observer with connections to both teams, I couldn't lose no matter who won. But that didn't stop me from rooting for some hilarious moments to unfold. And boy, did they deliver.

The Gators wasted a review early in the game on a clear safe call. I mean, come on, guys, save those challenges for something worth fighting for, like a questionable call at first base or a dispute over who has the best dance moves in the dugout.

The Aggies started the scoring off in the second inning, but the Gators were determined to catch up. Which they almost did, eventually.

With a line drive double from Texas in the third inning that really brought the crowd to life. The game continued with its ups and downs, double plays, and missed opportunities. The Gators used their challenges wisely, making sure the first baseman was truly out before celebrating. And let's not forget the Buffalo Wild Wings sponsored heat check, where most of the shirts ended up in center field instead of left field. Talk about some wild throws.

But it was in the seventh inning that things really heated up. The Gators managed to score their first run of the night, tightening the game and giving hope to their fans. The tension in the stadium was palpable, like a thick layer of humidity settling in. And when the call was upheld after a review, the tension immediately lifted, leaving the crowd in a state of relief.

The eighth and ninth innings were filled with nail-biting moments, with the Gators trying to overcome the Aggies' lead. It seemed like every pitch could be the game-changer, with the crowd on the edge of their seats. But in the end, the Aggies held on, securing a one-run victory by taking a home run away at the fence with a well timed jump from the right fielder.

As the game came to a close, I couldn't help but reflect on the day's events. From the rain delay to the comical moments on the field, it was a day filled with laughter, excitement, and a love for the game. And even though I didn't catch any fly balls for the kids, there's always next year.

So, as I hopped on a lime scooter and made my way back to the Uhaul where we parked, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the experience. And as we listened to the first baseball game skit on the way back to our friends' house, I knew that this day would forever be etched in my memory as one of the most comical and entertaining baseball games I had ever witnessed.

After the game Bob and I exchanged contact info and were able to talk about his thoughts on the game. Bob said he was captivated by the combination of baseball and the lively atmosphere created by people of all ages, including many families. According to Bob, watching young men passionately play a game they love was a truly remarkable experience. He emphasized that as fans, they all got to share in the excitement of victory and the heartbreak of defeat. However, what truly made the College World Series in Omaha stand out for Bob was the pace of the game. Unlike some sports that are fast-paced and non-stop, baseball allowed for ample time between pitches, pitching changes, and innings. This slower rhythm created an opportunity for Bob and others to engage in meaningful conversations with those around them. Bob cherished the chance to not only get to know the person sitting next to him but also to be known by them. He described this aspect of the game as priceless and expressed his gratitude to Omaha for providing such a unique and special experience.

Ruth, the owner of Fratelli’s Bistro in Gallup NM, takes pride in maintaining high standards and providing a memorable dining experience for her customers. The name Fratelli’s, meaning "brother" in Italian, perfectly captures the essence of this family-owned establishment.

As I sat down at Fratelli’s, my initial craving for pizza was quickly replaced by the enticing menu options. The Lobster Ravioli caught my eye, so I decided to give it a try. The dish rather quickly arrived with its perfect presentation. The ravioli was symmetrically arranged on the plate, accompanied by two beautifully striped noodles that added to the overall aesthetic appeal.

Curious to learn more about this exceptional restaurant, I decided to speak with the owner, Ruth. She explained how Fratelli’s has been serving the community for 13 years, and has remained true to its name by staying within the family. She took over the restaurant from her uncle, and has been successfully operating for the past few years.

It’s worth commending Ruth on her accomplishments. She’s quite impressive, as she manages a thriving business while raising her five children. I introduced my oldest son to her, and mentioned that I have four children of my own. It was inspiring to see how she had managed to maintain such high standards, and create an award-winning establishment, while balancing her personal and professional responsibilities.

Speaking of awards, Ruth proudly informed me that Fratelli’s has received local recognition for the past two years, winning accolades for the Best Pizza, Best Restaurant, and Best Dinner in Gallup.

Curious about how a small local eatery like Fratelli’s consistently delivers such high-quality food and service, I asked Ruth about her secret. In response, she became emotional and thanked me for noticing. She explained that she treats every customer like royalty, ensuring that only the best ingredients are used in her dishes. Ruth emphasized that if she wouldn't serve it to her own family, she wouldn't serve it to her customers. She goes above and beyond to source the finest ingredients, even if it means incurring additional costs.

The commitment to excellence at Fratelli’s is evident in every aspect of the dining experience. From the beautifully presented dishes to the outstanding flavors, Ruth's dedication shines through. Fratelli’s is not just a pizza joint, it’s an authentic Italian pizzeria that transports you to the streets of Italy with its ambiance and cuisine.

If you find yourself in Gallup, NM, make sure to visit Fratelli’s Bistro. Experience the warm hospitality of Ruth and her team, and treat yourself to a culinary journey that will leave you craving more. Whether you're in the mood for pizza, pasta, or gelato, Fratelli’s will exceed your expectations and leave you with a truly memorable dining experience.

Once upon a time, in a land known as Middle Suburbia, there lived a hobbit family that included a mother, father, two sons, and two daughters. They were a simple and adventurous bunch, always seeking exciting journeys to embark upon. One day, they heard news of an upcoming celestial event - a grand eclipse that would paint the sky with wonders unimaginable.

Filled with curiosity and a sense of adventure, half the hobbit family decided to set out on a quest to witness this extraordinary spectacle. So the father and the youngest son and daughter prepared for their journey.

Their first stop was the main trail, where they began their trek towards the eclipse's path. They noticed that it was 11:11 as they hit the main trail, a number often associated with good omens. Taking it as a sign, they were confident that this adventure would be a memorable one. Along the way, they encountered a series of remarkable events. The youngest son, desperately needed to use the bathroom. However, it took them three stops to find a gas station that was open. Miraculously, he managed to hold it in without any accidents, much to everyone's relief.

Continuing their journey, they crossed paths with a mischievous fox. Little did they know, this encounter was far from ordinary. As their mother, who had stayed back at home, drifted into a peaceful slumber, she found herself in a dream world where the boundaries between reality and fantasy converged. In this dream, the fox appeared once again, revealing secrets of the eclipse that bridged the physical and metaphysical realms.

As they ventured further, the hobbit family stumbled upon a majestic tree, still aglow from a recent encounter with lightning. Its core shimmered like the menacing gaze of Sauron, the Dark Lord. A shiver ran down their spines as they hurried past, realizing the significance of their journey.

Approaching their destination, the father, pointed out a magnificent structure to the little ones - the Gateway Arch. It symbolized the gateway to the west, a path towards new beginnings and extraordinary experiences. The children listened intently, their eyes wide with wonder.

Finally, they arrived at Carbondale, Illinois, the place marked on the map as the spot for totality. Excitement filled the air as they joined fellow travelers in a park, eagerly awaiting the eclipse. The children couldn't contain their excitement and began playing, their laughter echoing through the park.

As the eclipse began, the hobbit family put on their special glasses and gazed up at the sky. Slowly, the sun disappeared, and a magnificent ring formed, reminiscent of the ring Bilbo had found. For four awe-inspiring minutes, the world fell silent. Birds ceased their chirping, and even humans held their breath in reverence.

The father, couldn't bear to keep this moment to himself. He quickly dialed his wife and children back home using FaceTime, eager to share the magic unfolding before his eyes. Each of them smiled at each other, reveling in the shared experience. While the mother showed them the 50% coverage back home, the father showcased the full coverage, the ring shining brightly in the sky.

In that moment, the father found himself at a loss for words to describe the beauty that surrounded them. The only comparison that came to mind was that of an archangel's radiant halo, a sight so breathtaking that it could only be witnessed in person.

As the eclipse came to an end, the hobbit family reluctantly left the park, only to find the road congested with other travelers. What should have been a two-hour journey turned into a frustrating five-hour ordeal. Exhausted but undeterred, they decided to seek refuge at the Landing Hub, where they would spend the night before continuing their journey home the next day.

Though their road was filled with unexpected obstacles, the hobbit family knew that the memories they had made and the sights they had witnessed were worth every moment of delay. As they settled into their accommodations, anticipation filled their hearts for the adventures that awaited them on their way back home.

And so, the hobbit family drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the wonders they had encountered and the tales they would share with their loved ones. For in their hearts, they knew that this journey, filled with challenges and marvels, would forever be etched in their memories as a time when they had come together as a family to witness the magic of the eclipse and the ring that symbolized their own extraordinary bond.

Hopefully this ring like Bilbos will give long life and the family can see the next long solar eclipse in 75 years together again. Who knows maybe a child or grandchild will write the follow up article! So don’t forget to subscribe and keep an eye out for that follow up notification in 75 years!

Imagine this: Old high school pals reuniting, a reminder of those high school days when the biggest worry was whether you'd make it to class on time, each with a decade's worth of new laugh lines, gathering around a table where the aroma of breakfast tacos wafts through the air, a scent that's undeniably Texan and instantly transporting. You're there, a bit taco-spoiled from grandma's kitchen, yet buzzing with anticipation for Casa Falcon's famed breakfast tacos.

The scene is almost cinematic – a symphony of chomping and chuckling, where every bite is a throwback to those carefree school days. Casa Falcon doesn't just serve tacos; they dish out nostalgia wrapped in soft tortillas. And let me tell you, these aren't your run-of-the-mill, northern Gilbertos-style tacos that are more egg than adventure. No, sir. These are the real deal, the kind that reminds you why living down south had its perks.

The egg-to-other-ingredients ratio is a subject of great debate in taco circles, and Casa Falcon gets it right. It's like they've tapped into some ancient taco alchemy that balances flavors perfectly. You almost want to write a sonnet about it. Almost.

In conclusion, Casa Falcon's breakfast tacos are a homecoming king, a culinary high-five, a reminder of what you've been missing up north. They're not just food; they're a journey back in time, filled with laughter, friendship, and just the right amount of egg. Bravo, Casa Falcon, bravo!

Subscribe now

Share

In a world where family vacations often turn into episodes of "Survivor: Suburbia Edition," our latest adventure proved that humor, unexpected detours, and the wonders of American monumentalism can create memories worth writing home about, or at least worth a chuckle or two.

It all started after we bid adieu to the serene Chico Hot Springs and wrapped up family funerals - a juxtaposition only life can script. With heavy hearts but lighter spirits, we left Grandpa's "shack" on the river, which I suspect is his euphemism for "wilderness fortress of solitude." The journey homeward began.

As any parent knows, a long drive with kids is akin to hosting a live, interactive, and often combative podcast. Antsy from the confines of the car, our kids transformed the backseat into a mini-rebellion. Sensing the brewing storm, my wife and I exchanged "the look" - seasoned parents know this look well. It's a mix of love, desperation, and unspoken strategy.

Our impromptu plan? A detour to Mount Rushmore. Serendipitously, it's almost exactly halfway between Grandpa's woodland hideout and our abode. I hadn't visited since my own childhood, so the nostalgia was real - like revisiting a favorite old TV show and finding it's still good.

Unfortunately, our eldest, in a commendable yet impressive display of dedication to soccer, couldn't join us. So, with three-quarters of our offspring in tow, we embarked on the Mount Rushmore experience, promising a sequel trip for the missing member.

The trek to the monument was an educational safari, complete with informational signs and statues. It's like Disneyland for history buffs but with fewer mouse ears and more presidential faces. The gift shop was a hit, because what's a family trip without souvenirs that will be cherished for a week and then forgotten in a drawer?

As the sun set, we reached the main event - the majestic Mount Rushmore. Here's the plot twist: we arrived just in time to miss the final lighting ceremony of the year. Don’t worry it's now on my life's side quest list.

The kids were in awe of the stone-carved presidents, their faces illuminated only by the stars and you know probably not environmentally friendly unnaturally bright spotlights. It's a sight to behold, like seeing your favorite celebrities at the grocery store, only more...granite.

The descent back to the car was where things took a turn for the comedic. Our youngest boy, suddenly remembering every bear-related fact he's ever heard, started roaring to ward off any potential ursine encounters. His efforts didn't go unnoticed. An older lady, clearly impressed with his bear-scaring prowess, thanked him for keeping us all safe. Little did she know, his "roar" is more likely to attract a confused raccoon than deter a bear.

Our next stop was a pizza joint in a nearby town, where we met a fascinating turkey refugee. His story of seasonal work and a return home to support his family was a slice of real-life Americana. He's a man of resilience and ambition, much like the faces etched in the mountain we'd just visited.

Pizza devoured and stories shared, the kids succumbed to sleep, and we continued our journey home. The car was quiet, the road stretched ahead, and our hearts were full - of pizza, of gratitude, and of memories that would surely outlast even the most enduring of mountain carvings.

And so concluded our Great American Odyssey - a trip that was supposed to be a simple drive home but turned into a story of historical giants, bear imitations, and unexpected human connections.

Subscribe now

Share

With our intrepid crew consisting of my wife, our 4-year-old aspiring aquanaut, a 3-year-old diva-in-training, and a 6-year-old who is convinced he’s the next Indiana Jones, we set off.

First challenge: packing the car. Who knew you needed an engineering degree to fit a few days worth of luggage, emergency snacks (enough to feed a small army), and enough entertainment to keep the kids from asking "Are we there yet?" every five minutes?

The drive itself was a symphony of "I'm bored", "He's touching me!", and the ever-popular "I need to go to the bathroom" – right after we passed the last rest stop for 50 miles.

Arriving at Chico Hot Springs was like entering an oasis. The kids' eyes widened at the sight of the pools, and they immediately forgot their sibling rivalries in their rush to get into their swimsuits. My wife and I exchanged a look that said, "We've made it. We can relax now." How naïve we were!

The hot springs were a hit, but let's just say our kids’ ideas of relaxing in hot water involved more splashing and less tranquil soaking. And who knew a 3-year-old could make such impressive tidal waves?

After the springs we finally made it to Grandpa’s house, and as we tucked our little angels into bed, we reflected on the day. There were moments of chaos, moments of laughter, and moments where we just had to shake our heads and smile.

In the end, despite the minor meltdowns and the bathroom emergencies, our trip to Chico Hot Springs was a memorable start to our road trip. It reminded us that family adventures aren't about perfection; they're about being together, making memories, and finding humor in the chaos.

And as for the rest of the road trip? Well, that's a story for another time.

Subscribe now

Share

A Long Road Ahead

Traveling back to Texas for the funeral of someone dear was not a journey I had been looking forward to. The distance itself was a daunting 1200 miles, but the added challenge of venturing on this emotional and physical trek with four kids made it even more formidable. Nevertheless, with my wife beside me, the combined strength of our resolve assured me that we were prepared for whatever lay ahead.

Our itinerary was not merely a linear trajectory back to our homeland; it was also a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The first major stop would be in Uvalde, Texas, a familiar spot from my past visits. What awaited us there was not just rest, but a reunion of epic proportions.

A Reunion to Remember

As my old friend Jesus Flores, the proud owner of "Jesus Chariot", welcomed us into his home, I was instantly transported to the carefree days of our youth. And before I knew it, the combined might of our offspring, all eight of them, including the two cousins who came to visit, had turned the quiet homestead into a bustling carnival of laughter, shouts, and play. If decibels were a currency, we would've been millionaires.

One topic dominated our evening conversation: my desperate craving for authentic breakfast tacos. Living up north had made me nostalgic for this southern delight, and Jesus knew it all too well. So, in the spirit of our enduring friendship, he decided to reintroduce me to a local haunt, the Taco Way. Although the changed hands in the kitchen had somewhat altered the taste, the meal was still a familiar blend of flavors that teased my taste buds but left me wanting.

The Culmination of the Quest

With a fulfilling but not quite satisfying breakfast behind us, we had to hit the road again. Forty miles separated us from the next part of our journey – seeing the legendary Grandma Flores, checking into our Airbnb, attending the funeral, catching up with old friends, and continuing my quest for the perfect breakfast taco.

Grandma Flores, with her age-old wisdom, had already got wind of my taco lament. I was, after all, returning home, and what is home if not the comforting embrace of grandma's homemade tortillas?

As we navigated through the maze of our past, present, and the myriad emotions that come with attending a funeral and revisiting one's roots, one thing remained constant – the heart's desire for that quintessential breakfast taco. Whether I found it in an old haunt or through the familiar hands of family, this epic quest was not just about satiating a culinary craving; it was about reconnecting with my roots, reliving memories, and finding comfort in the familiar during times of grief.

In the end, it wasn't just about tacos. It was about home.

Subscribe now

Share

Lancaster, Ohio, is known for its natural beauty, captivating history, and the warm hospitality of its residents. However, our recent stay at an Airbnb property near Lancaster took the experience to a whole new level. It definitely increased our overall Lost Lands experience.

Architectural Splendor amidst Nature

Tucked away in a serene location, this two-story cabin mansion stood tall and proud, greeting us with its wooden aesthetics that perfectly complemented the surrounding nature. With expansive grounds and a facade that promised luxury, we knew we were in for a treat.

Space, Comfort, and More

One of the most striking features of the cabin mansion was the sheer amount of space it offered. Designed to accommodate large groups, it boasts five spacious bedrooms and three bathrooms, ensuring that none of the guests felt cramped or compromised on privacy.

Having a living room on each floor was a delight, especially for our group which had varied entertainment preferences. While some preferred to watch movies on the decent-sized TV, others found solace in reading or having quiet conversations.

Entertainment Galore

For those in our group who were keen on some indoor recreational activities, the billiards table in the downstairs area was a hit. Not only did it evoke nostalgia among our older members, but it also initiated friendly competitions that made our nights memorable.

If you're looking for relaxation and rejuvenation, the cabin mansion won't disappoint. The upper deck featured a hot tub – an ideal place to unwind after a long day of exploring Lancaster. And for those who like a touch of luxury in their bathing routine, the master bathroom's sizable jacuzzi tub was enticing. However, a minor hiccup was that the jets weren't functional during our stay.

Convenience at Its Best

A well-appointed kitchen meant that whipping up meals was a breeze. It was well-stocked, ensuring that we didn't miss out on any culinary adventures. Additionally, the convenience of having a washer and dryer, especially located near the stairs by the kitchen, was a thoughtful touch.

However, there was a slight drawback. The sounds emanating when the water was turned on and the low water pressure indicated a need for a stronger well pump.

Exploring the Vicinity

While the cabin mansion itself was a retreat, the hosts made sure we didn’t miss out on what Lancaster and its surroundings had to offer. They left a meticulously curated list of nearby attractions.

In Conclusion

Our stay at this Airbnb near Lancaster, Ohio, was nothing short of extraordinary. It beautifully combined the charm of a rustic cabin with the luxuries of a mansion, ensuring a memorable experience for all. With just a slight room for improvement regarding the water pressure, this property truly is a gem in the heart of Ohio's natural splendor.

Subscribe now

Share

The anticipation of attending a concert can often be heightened or dampened by the accommodation choice. As our group prepared for the Electric Callboy concert in St. Paul, at the Fillmore, little did we know that our lodging experience would be as memorable as the concert itself.

First Impressions and Joe’s Antics

From the get-go, our group's resident jester, Joe, with his tongue-in-cheek humor, couldn’t resist making light of the neighborhood. "Hope our cars are still there in the morning," he quipped, scanning the vicinity, where evidence of broken glass and the general rundown appearance suggested that it had seen better days.

Yet, amidst this backdrop, our Airbnb stood out. As if shielded from the world outside, the hosts had meticulously fenced off their property. From the outside, it looked well-maintained, and one could even say, it was undoubtedly the crown jewel of the area.

Inside the Gem

As we entered, our initial reservations were instantly quelled. The gleam of modern kitchen appliances welcomed us – a clear indicator of the care and thought put into the property. Given our brief stay, the kitchen’s upgrades might not have been of utmost importance, but it's always reassuring to know that your hosts prioritize quality.

Choosing bedrooms became an easy task. While the upstairs beckoned, the warmth it emanated made the decision for us. We settled on the main floor, each finding a cozy nook to call our own for the night. The sauna, nestled in the utility room area, was a delightful surprise, which my wife and I thoroughly indulged in. Meanwhile, the jacuzzi tub in the master bath was a haven of relaxation after the energetic concert. However, the fancy toilet with the built-in bidet in the bathroom confused a few members of our party. As the worn-out buttons on the remote connected to it drew their attention away from the signs hung up telling them how to flush it.

But it was the Billiards room that became the epicenter of our evening's entertainment. With a state-of-the-art sound system setting the mood, many a competitive round of 8 ball ensued, accompanied by laughter, banter, and the inevitable teasing from Joe.

Conclusion: An Unexpected Treasure

This St. Paul Airbnb was a testament to the idea that appearances can be deceiving. What seemed like a challenging environment outside hid a haven of luxury, comfort, and modernity inside. It was a delightful juxtaposition that added a unique flavor to our trip. The house was not only a place to rest our heads but became a part of our concert experience. With its array of amenities and thoughtful touches, it was an absolute steal for the price. For any future traveler to St. Paul, this Airbnb is a must-try, a true diamond in the rough.

READ MORE IN RAMBLIN’ MAN:

Share

Subscribe now