Category: Retro (page 4 of 6)

September 15, 2018

Alt Ice Cream

Originally published in the Fall 2018 issue of Stock & Barrel

Ask any ten strangers on the street what makes Columbus stand out and you’ll probably get ten different answers. But odds are no one will say frozen confections, and that’s a serious oversight.

Sure, Ohio’s ice cream scene has its roots in prohibition era politics and the non sequitur notion that replacing booze with scoops would somehow catch on. But it’s hard to hate on the idea that the best cure for a hot day is still a cold one — regardless of whether it comes in a can or a cone.

Jeni’s has definitely raised our international credibility as an ice cream innovator. (Seriously, they now serve it in business class on Scandinavian Airlines flights to Copenhagen.) But the trend doesn’t end there. Complex flavor combinations and unlikely ingredients abound around town, along with alternate formats that redefine the familiar summertime treat.

WORLD CLASS

Simply Rolled
968 N. High St | Columbus, OH 43201
673 Worthington Rd | Westerville, OH 43082

Originally tucked inside the old Oats & Barley Market is the next new thing, Thai-style rolled ice cream. Though their tea-inspired offerings may be tempting, you don’t have to be vegan to fall in love with their organic cashew and coconut milk ice cream, topped with subtle lavender honey and crispy waffle bits.

Freeze Style
1731 W Lane Ave | Upper Arlington, OH 43221

Still on the rolled ice cream kick, go traditional with Oreos and marshmallows, or go crazy with Lychee fruit and Pop Rocks. There are also several signature suggestions, like the decidedly Japanese Matcha Berry, a green tea base with strawberries, mochi, Pocky, and a little drizzle of sweetened condensed milk.

Dulce Vida Ice Cream Factory
4201 W Broad St | Columbus, OH 43228
2400 Home Acre Dr | Columbus, OH 43231

Mexican ice cream is rich and velvety from the extra butterfat, but it’s the options that catch your attention before the first bite. From decadent Blackberry and Cheese and delicate Cactus Flower to sweet Corn and creamy Goat Milk Caramel, there’s far more than a measly 31 flavors from which to choose.

Diamonds Ice Cream
5461 Bethel Sawmill Center | Columbus, OH 43235
3870 Main St | Hilliard, OH 43026

Paletas is Spanish for “small sticks”, but these popsicles aren’t like any you’ll find in your local grocery store. Homemade with or without milk, there’s something for everyone, both sweet and savory. Whole-sliced Strawberry & Kiwi pops are cool for the kids, or maybe the Watermelon Chili pops for the grownups.

Coppa Gelato
925 N State St | Westerville, OH 43082

Italian ice cream actually has a little less fat, but is slow churned for a more dense and intense consistency. Served slightly above freezing, it’s made to melt in your mouth. Try a flight of any four flavors, or perhaps the Belgian Chocolate served “affogato” with a double shot of espresso poured on top.

Bonafacio
1577 King Ave | Columbus, OH 43212

Known for their modern spin on Filipino brunch and monthly Kamayan, or family-style dinners, it would be easy to overlook the dessert menu. But the Ube Ice Cream Sandwich, made from purple sweet potato, stuffed in a deep-fried bun topped with coconut and caramel is the street food favorite you didn’t know you were missing.

OLD SCHOOL COOL

Cream & Sugar
2185 Sullivant Ave | Columbus, OH 43223

Never short on snarky names — like Fat Elvis, Munchie Madness, and The $&@! Just Got Serious — guilty pleasure is an understatement. If your kid’s summer sugar rush makes the school year seem far away, try a double scoop of Exhausted Parent (bourbon-spiked espresso ice cream with bittersweet chocolate chunks) for a late-day pick-me-up.

Hilltop Dairy Twist
2860 Sullivant Ave | Columbus, OH 43204

Looking for more than 40 flavors of soft-serve? Swirled on a cone or into a cup, the entire experience is an echo of a simpler era. If you try their legendary blueberry shake, be sure to ask for extra blueberries and a big barrel straw so they don’t stay stranded on the bottom.

Clown Cones & Confections
3431 Cleveland Ave | Columbus, OH 43224

If clowns give you the creeps, consider yourself warned. But if sweet execution of creative flavors and a candy selection that would terrify any dentist are your thing, get in line. Decorated with decades of clown kitsch, channel your inner child and order a scoop of Birthday Cake ice cream with sprinkles.

The Little Ice Cream Shoppe
3229 Hilliard Rome Rd | Hilliard, OH 43026

For a city full of families, sometimes even ice cream gets too highfalutin. Not here. Clearly kid-friendly, hand-dipped treats of yesteryear share the spotlight with some surprises. The Key Lime Pie ice cream might make you pleasantly pucker and the Peanut Butter Brownie is the right balance between chewy and chilly.

Johnson’s Real Ice Cream
2728 East Main St | Bexley, Ohio 43209
55 West Bridge St | Dublin, Ohio 43017
160 West Main St | New Albany, Ohio 43054

It’s hard to get more original than an ice cream parlor that opened in 1950. Four generations later, they’re still serving Bexley, plus two new locations. Can’t decide between a sundae and a split? Get both with a “Fudge Split”, three scoops and a banana covered in hot fudge, nuts, and whipped cream with a cherry on top.

Mardi Gras Homemade Ice Cream
1947 Hard Rd | Columbus, OH 43235

The name remains a bit of a misnomer. Though the style of ice cream is all American, the flavors feature an Indian flare. You’ll still find the traditional favorites, but who could resist the intrigue of Anjeer, rich and nutty dried fig, or the call of Kesar Pista, a blend of saffron, cardamom, and pistachio?

NO CONE REQUIRED

SNO-OH
Various Locations | Check sno-oh.com for schedule

This one actually is a Crescent City classic, just not ice cream. These New Orleans style snoballs (don’t dare call them snow cones) are as fluffy as freshly fallen snow, perfectly packaged in Chinese take-out boxes. From straight-up Strawberry to a spicy Pineapple-Habanero, their camper turned pop-up shop is worth tracking down.

J-Pops Gourmet Ice Pops
Various Locations | Check myjpops.com for schedule

Found at farmers markets and festivals throughout town, the name is a nod to the founder’s fascination with Japanese pop culture. But these clever creations know no borders with complex culinary combinations ranging from Lemon-Basil and Blackberry Mojito to Orange Honey Chamomile and Honeydew Cracked Black Pepper.

Rime Time Curiously Crafted Pops
Various Locations | Check rimetimepops.com for schedule

Featured at various events around Columbus, these upscale popsicles easily impress adults and kids alike. Their small batch chic status is earned and evident with year round standards like Strawberry Angostura and Peanut Butter & Jelly to sublime seasonal selections like White Nectarine Rosé and Sugar Cube Cantaloupe.

OH-YO! Frozen Yogurt
4226 Buckeye Pkwy | Grove City, OH 43123

Most “fro-yo” is only so-so, further diminished by its pervasive presence in strip malls and corporate cafeterias. But sweet treats like Toasted Marshmallow and Pecan Praline, and tart variations like Pomegranate Raspberry, deserve attention even before adding any of the hundreds of topping options from fresh fruit to candy crunch.

39 Below Frozen Yogurt
85 Parsons Ave | Columbus, OH 43215

Already infamous as the only place in Columbus where you can get pho and fro-yo under the same awning, this Olde Towne East eatery excels at hot and cold take-out. Though Almond Butter is probably their fan favorite, collaborations like Honey Espresso made with Upper Cup coffee from next door keep flavors lively and local.

Krema Nut Company
1000 Goodale Blvd | Columbus, OH 43212

Everyone recognizes the capital city’s preeminent authority on all things nuts. But many don’t know they also serve their salty spreads on a dozen different sandwiches, and maybe the best milkshake in the Buckeye State. Their Hot & Spicy Peanut Butter Shake is thick and creamy with the sweet heat of summer in every sip. 

September 1, 2018

Cartoon Crossroads Columbus

Originally published in the September 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

As a geographic midpoint, Columbus has never quite matched the marketing moniker of Midwest. We’re too far east of the prairie pedigree of Omaha, yet still too far west to quite compete with the urban grit of Pittsburgh, or even our rust belt cousins in Cleveland.

But as an approachable nexus where ideas and innovation cross paths comfortably, free from the egos of the coasts, you’d be hard pressed to find a better place to launch something new. That’s why Cartoon Crossroads Columbus, or CXC, makes so much sense for a city never afraid to invest in the next creative frontier.

“Comics aren’t only about superheroes. They’re about everything. I think most folks will be surprised by the depth and variety,” explained Jeff Smith, acclaimed creator of BONE, ambassador of comic street cred, and president of CXC. “These things go back to the beginning of the last century, and include silent animations, game-changing editorial cartoons, and the birth of some of our most iconic characters.”

Point of fact, it actually was a couple of guys from Ohio who created Superman. But cult legends R. Crumb and Harvey Pekar also forged their distinctive styles here. Maybe we aren’t exactly the middle of the country. But Ohio’s impact on the art form is undeniable, and perhaps Columbus deserves to become its unofficial center?

The four-day festival started with the ambitious agenda of becoming the South by Southwest of illustrated storytelling. Now four years in with events throughout Columbus connecting historic context and cutting edge content, CXC continues to evolve by honoring industry veterans and celebrating emerging artists often outside the mainstream.

“Most of the institutions involved were already bringing in world-class cartoonists in multiple disciplines, like graphic novels, comic strips, and animation,” Smith noted. “When you visit some of our exhibits and venues, you will meet cartoonists who animate feature films and indie films. You’ll meet established artists and the best of the new.”

Event locations fall into two enclaves, with downtown activities at the Columbus Museum of Art, Columbus College of Art & Design, and the main branch of the Columbus Metropolitan Library, as well as those at Ohio State, including the Wexner Center for the Arts, the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum, and Hale Hall, which hosts SÕL-CON, an expo featuring Latino and African-American artists expanding the genre.

One of those new voices is Ohio native Travis Horseman, whose acting background and stage experience aren’t the traditional résumé of a graphic novelist.

“Until I started about five years ago, I was largely unaware of the vibrant comic creator community in Columbus,” admitted Horseman, a first time exhibitor joining more than a hundred fellow artists also invited to share their work at CXC. “Luckily, there were people willing to show me the ropes. That how I first learned about Cartoon Crossroads.”

His first project, Amiculus: A Secret History, is set during the fall of the Roman Empire and garnered critical comparisons to Game of Thrones for its sophisticated plotlines and complex characters. The trilogy was funded through Kickstarter, an increasingly popular platform for first-time comic artists. But the project actually grew out of Horseman’s alter ego as an actor.

“I tried several different formats before settling on a graphic novel. I’m a very visual storyteller and the medium just seemed to work better for my ideas,” he noted. “I see the images that bring my characters to life as I write.”

Graphic novels share the same cinematic style as film and television, but aren’t limited by cumbersome and costly digital and practical effects. Shot blocking and storyboards are akin to comic book panels, and the right artist with the right tools can create content every bit as stunning as a big budget feature.

“Amiculus started out as a short play, then a short story. I’d always been a fan of comics and decided thinking about it as one might help with some of my writers block,” he recalled. “My 32-page short story quickly grew to 240 pages. But by then, it wasn’t just a novel. It was a story that deserved to be a graphic novel.”

Already connected to the local theater scene, he knew the expertise he needed was probably hiding in plain sight amongst the local comic community. Horseman admits he was essentially starting from scratch. But he was fortunate to find guides to put him on the right path, eventually leading to a spot at CXC.

“It’s a tough ticket to get. There are always more applicants than tables for exhibitors,” he revealed. “I’ve been part of other creative communities, but I don’t think I’ve ever been part of a more supportive one. There isn’t a mix of artists and creators anywhere in the country quite like it.”

His current project is also crowd funded, with a campaign cleverly scheduled to run concurrently with CXC. This new saga still has an unlikely setting, but with a contemporary timeline about a forgotten chapter of American history much closer to home.

“Sugar Creek is unfamiliar territory as our first horror book,” he explained. With the true story of a post-colonial conflict in 1791 that wiped out a quarter of the nation’s new army in a single battle as the backdrop, the bloody footnote takes an even darker turn. “I’ve been describing it as our Ohio project because it’s not just set in Ohio. Everyone working on it is from Ohio.”

More than a tradeshow or fan experience, CXC was initially modeled after Smith’s own travels as an artist to American and international comic conventions that focus on creating connections as well. But fostering that local spirit of collaboration extends beyond the individual artists and permeates the entire event and the city that surroundings it.

“People enjoy working together here,” explained Smith. “The ease with which private and public institutions work together is exactly why a celebration like Cartoon Crossroads Columbus can take place.”

For details on Cartoon Crossroads Columbus, visit cartooncrossroadscolumbus.com

August 31, 2018

Why Art Thou?

Originally published in the September 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Cars are commodities mass-produced by the millions. But once they roll off the showroom floor, they take on a life of their own. Each ding or dent tells a story, from original owner to everyone who eventually sits behind the wheel.

But for some, those tales get much more detailed, blurring the line between eclectic transportation and traveling exhibition. They’re called “art cars”, and those who create them are part of a growing movement that is increasingly impossible to ignore.

“All around the world and throughout time, there have been decorated vehicles—from gypsy wagons, or the decorated trucks of Pakistan, to the buses of Haiti,” explained Greg Phelps, who is currently driving his third art car. “But they really didn’t take off in the US until the ’70s when people first started to glue on their cars, turning them into more than just a metal canvas.”

Phelps got his start in 1997 with a Mazda Miata featuring a two-dimensional design, but it wasn’t until a couple years later after a conversation with another local artist that he took his design to the next level.

“Ramona Moon had been gluing on her cars out in San Francisco before moving back to her hometown of Columbus,” he recalled. “That’s when I first realized you could effectively attach elements to your car, and I haven’t stopped since.”

Silicone is the adhesive of choice for many art car creators—flexible enough for daily driving, yet durable enough for regular washing. Phelps plays it safe with an ordinary sprayer for occasional cleaning, but admits it takes a lot longer than you’d think to get the soap out of all of the “nooks and crannies.”

“I have a whole host of things on it, like a mohawk of Barbie legs as a tribute to the synchronized swim team at Ohio State,” he explained. “The mirrors on the rims have survived five years of Ohio winters.”

Creativity is often contagious, and just as Phelps was inspired decades ago, he too continues to recruit, working with local high school and college students to create their own incarnations. You’ll find a few artfully adorned golf carts zipping around the campus of Ft. Hayes. Collaboration with an OSU sculpture class even led one student to do her Masters thesis on the cultural phenomenon.

“I often tell parents to encourage their new teenage drivers to create one,” he said. “It lets them be rebellious, but remain conspicuous. You can’t drive aggressively or cut people off in an art car.”

Road rage is a foreign concept for those rolling around in vehicles covered in colorful plastic doodads. Smiles are expected at a parade, but even police can’t contain their grins as he putters past. So long as he’s not speeding and nothing falls off, law enforcement pays him no mind.

“I honk and wave whenever I see police officers,” he said. “It’s not like I could get away with robbing a bank in it.”

The quirky creations aren’t just child’s play, though a love of toys and a stash of little pieces and parts doesn’t hurt. Phelps can still spot an easy mark, like Jason Williams, owner of Big Fun, the Short North shop notorious for nostalgia. His unmistakable Volkswagen Vanagon turned Star Trek shuttle craft is as meticulous and mesmerizing as his store.

“I gave him that first tube of glue and a caulking gun as a challenge,” he quipped. “Now his entire roof is this epic history of politics and conflict told through plastic figures.”

Phelps’ own car is more autobiographical, including subtle nods to fellow art cars he admires. The exterior accessories are too difficult to transplant from one car to the next, but his “Deities of the Dash” representing the world’s major and lesser-known religions does migrate from one project vehicle to its successor.

There are often lingering misconceptions about the movement, like the idea that owners are simply attention seekers.

“It’s actually the opposite. I want to give people attention,” Phelps noted. “There are few things that can draw strangers together into a shared conversation faster than standing around an art car.”

Though many have high miles, they aren’t all “beaters” someone decided to repurpose after years of neglect. Most start as reliable models that are easy to maintain, to avoid all of that effort meeting an early end. But even the best cars never last forever.

“I donated my first car to the Kentucky Museum of Art and Craft in Louisville, which has a collection of art cars,” he revealed. “The second, I donated to Open Heart Creatures. It had nearly 200k miles on it.”

Given his ideal afterlife, Phelps said he wouldn’t mind his current car becoming part of the collection of local art on display at the Greater Columbus Convention Center—preferably suspended from the wall or ceiling—joining “As We Are”, the giant selfie LED head, as one of the city’s most photographed art installations.

Until then, art cars are already attracting plenty of attention at Hot Times, the annual community arts and music festival in Olde Towne East. The dozen or so local creations are joined by almost as many from surrounding states, enough to earn some international interest as well—most notably Haider Ali, renown Pakistani truck artist.

“He created a truck for the Smithsonian’s Silk Road exhibit in 2002. I saw it when I was in DC and it blew me away. I looked him up on Facebook a few years ago and we became friends,” Phelps recalled. “Last year, he came to Columbus and painted a vehicle for the CRC [Clintonville–Beechwold Community Resources Center] which they use to transport senior citizens to their doctors appointments. He loved it so much, he returned this year and painted a passenger van they use to take seniors to the grocery store and social gatherings.”

You’d think Phelps would be overly protective of his autodidactic art exhibition, but he’ll still let valets park it, and does so often. He’s found it’s the easiest way to get a prime parking space for curious onlookers and as a popular backdrop for photographers and impromptu portraits.

“Valets always treat it with great care, as if it were an exotic sports car,” he chided. “I get the best spot and people will walk past a Lamborghini to check out my Nissan. I call it ‘carma.’” ▩

For details on the Hot Times Arts & Music Festival, visit hottimesfestival.com.

August 31, 2018

Craft Beer’s New Groove

Originally published in the September 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Why would anyone in their right mind open another neighborhood bar or record joint in a city already brimming with both?

Ask Troy Stacy, the owner of Craft & Vinyl, an endeavor that is deliberately neither, nor does it pretend to be. Yet it combines the essential elements of each into an entirely new experience fine-tuned for local beer aficionados and audiophiles alike.

It’s not a bar that sells LPs, nor a record store that serves beer. It’s a kindred cultural convergence that combines a craft beer counter, new and used vinyl, and a recording studio conveniently under one roof.

“There wasn’t a place that brought all three of these ideas together,” explained Stacy, whose inspiration was well informed by a career in marketing and the music industry. “We live in a digital universe, but there is still a craving for something tactile.”

Vinyl is visceral. Even as records have emerged as the fastest growing segment of music sales, capturing the charm of a record store without the musty smell and dingy décor that are almost synonymous was no easy feat. But tip too far in the opposite direction and you end up with the vintage vibe of a deservedly defunct Sam Goody.

Stacy had the right idea. He just needed to find the right place and the right space.

“I had four or five target areas, but Grandview was always my first choice,” he recalled. “But I almost leased the space that became Brewdog in the Short North. They got it right out from under me.”

Music folklore is full of happy accidents, and losing that spot for something better could be among them. The former consignment shop that was once home to an old hardware store offered weathered floors, high ceilings, and instant credibility.

“We built it to look and feel more like an art gallery. People who collect vinyl also collect it for the cover art,” Stacy said. “It’s not just a music medium.”

The “Mosaic Wall” stretches 30 feet and five records high with classic and contemporary albums, many 180-gram pressings or “heavy vinyl,” preferred by collectors for durability and fidelity. Here you’ll find seminal releases from The Stones to The Stooges and everything in-between.

Used inventory fills the “Vinyl Salon” in oversized wooden bins complemented by a lounge with a couple of leather sofas at the end and a long, bar-height table in the middle with enough stools and space to make the experience equal parts shopping and social. Flipping through stacks searching for those hidden gems is a two-handed job. That’s why you’ll find cleverly placed cup holders spaced every few feet to park your pint.

“The idea came from a very practical place. I was stocking the bins, holding a beer, and had nowhere to put it,” he confessed. “They’re actually just RV cup holders, but everyone gets a kick out of them.” (Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention would surely approve.)

Despite their resurgence in popularity, selecting the right records to sell has become evermore crucial in the age of eBay and Amazon. Stacy was smart and thankful to enlist veteran vinyl proprietor Mike “Pepe” Depew as a mentor, whose experience at Ace in the Hole Music Exchange and the Record Connection dates back decades.

“I started buying records from Pep when I was 15,” Stacy revealed. “Anytime you start a business there are bumps in the road and painful learning. He took me under his wing and helped me avoid a lot of those mistakes.”

Extending the gallery metaphor are concert posters and handbills designed by prolific local artist Mike Martin, whose limited edition screen printing and illustration style echo an earlier era, and the depth and breadth of Craft & Vinyl’s selection. From folk to funk and soul to swing, add the black and yellow punches of color to the warm wooden accents, and Jack White would feel right at home. Even the pinball machines are on-brand for a place that seems like one giant analog anachronism defiant of all things digital—with one deft exception.

“Lots of musicians go to record stores and hang out. That’s often where collaborations first come together,” he explained. “I wanted to create a place where that inspiration isn’t lost by having a recording studio just steps away. There’s nothing like it in Columbus.”

In addition to hourly studio rental—including a collection of guitars, basses, vocal microphones, and a drum kit—Stacy offers monthly packages for musicians interested in more frequent access, one of several subscription options that distinguish Craft & Vinyl as a place where music is played and made.

“One of the ideas we’re working on is a ‘Flight School’ where once a month you’ll come in to try four to six beers from a specific brewer paired with a classic album listening experience and a new album listening experience,” he noted.

Though the smallest section of the store in square footage, that craft beer counter right as you walk through the door is definitely the social glue that binds the whole operation together, and the most unique draw for foot traffic and local buzz. The novel mix of stacks of wax and craft on draft was enough to intrigue distributors before they even opened.

“The relationship with Great Lakes Brewing was really interesting because they reached out to us,” Stacy recalled. “They approached us and said they wanted to serve their Turntable Pils here. That eventually turned into a conversation about doing a collaborative vinyl album together.”

Also available as event space, new ideas continue to surface now that more folks can take it in and suggest additional opportunities and potential. The concept was always considered an evolving prototype for future locations.

“People tend to tell you what they want,” Stacy explained. “I’m here to listen.” ▩

August 2, 2018

Back in Time

Originally published in the August 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Scott Mulhollen stared at the screen in silent disbelief. With only an hour notice, he’d received a tip on an eBay auction too good to be true. As the clock ticked away with only seconds to spare, he made his first and only bid.

He took a moment to let the win sink in, then he picked up the phone to confirm it was all really happening. The stranger who answered seemed somber, then his wife got on the line and was clearly confused. She didn’t even know her husband was selling it.

“Who is this?” she asked again, to which he politely replied, “I’m Scott, the guy who just bought your DeLorean.”

Graciously offering to back out of the sale, Mulhollen learned the car was the couple’s first purchase together when they were wed in 1982 and had been meticulously maintained ever since. But now retired and downsizing, it was time to move on.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell them what I was going to do to their car. You never know how someone is going to react,” he recalled. “So I chose to respect their memories, assuring them I was going to take care of it as lovingly as they had, that it wasn’t going to a chop shop or flipper.”

Mulhollen wasn’t kidding. He loves the car, and has his whole life. But he’s no classic car aficionado or broker of automotive ephemera intent on turning a quick buck.

“You rarely find a car this pristine and well preserved, and never at this price,” Mulhollen explained, whose bid was well above the $28,500 he actually paid. “The guy who owned it before me was an electrical engineer and stripped the entire car and rewired it, because DeLoreans were known for sometimes catching on fire. Collectors want everything original, so I was the only bidder.”

That was hardly the end of the upgrades. It’s taken nearly 30 years and a small fortune to realize the vision of his adolescence. But after months of delays and painstaking modifications, Scott Mulhollen is now the owner of a bona fide time machine.

“I remember sitting in the theater as a kid watching Back to the Future and dreaming about someday owning ‘that car,’” he confessed.

Mulhollen now runs his own self-defense school, which often requires connecting with kids who aren’t always easy to reach. A long-time collector of iconic ’80s memorabilia, his office is more of a museum dedicated to his childhood, from Garfield to Ghostbusters. Not just trinkets either — everything from autographed animation cells to a legit proton pack. Even his martial arts background and enthusiasm for teaching grew out of his own experience with bullying. He was an actual Karate Kid who defied more than a few naysayers and turned a calling into a career. “When kids come here, it helps to let them know I was just like them,” he explained. “But there was still that one big dream that remained out of reach.”

For those of a certain age, it’s almost impossible to overstate how beloved Back to the Future is as both a personal and pop cultural milestone. I was an exchange student to Japan in the summer of ’86 and my host brother had a bootleg recording of just the audio from Back to the Future he’d played on his Walkman nearly nonstop for a year before I arrived. It’s essentially how he learned English. We’re still in touch, and can still exchange every line of dialogue even decades later.

“When I was initially considering all of this, I knew it had to be a business to make sense, but one that enabled me to share this passion with others and make a positive impact,” he recalled. “With the right combination of private rentals and charity events, I knew I could make it work.”

It cost nearly twice as much to convert the car as he’d paid for it, and it shows. It looks handmade, which it is and as it should. There’s a delicate balance to creating cinematic replicas. Too stingy and it feels cheap. Too polished and it feels mass-produced. Perhaps only the Batmobile is as indelible down to the most exacting detail. Complete with lighting and sound effects, diodes and doodads, Marty McFly himself couldn’t tell the difference.

“When the film’s prop makers were designing the car, they wanted it to look like something Doc Brown could have made in his garage,” he explained. “It took the builder seven months, and even then, he’d have taken another month or two if I let him.”

Once you get past the heavy price tag, the sticker shock gives way to immediate envy. Plenty of people spend as much or more on a midlife crisis car that no one wants to have over for their birthday party or private gathering. You could have just another Tesla, or you could have a time machine and folks will gladly pay you to come hang out for a few hours.

“My goal is three years to pay off the car, a few big gigs and we’ll get there,” he noted. “The car isn’t really an expense; it’s an investment that holds its value. I could sell it tomorrow and still make money on the deal.”

Delays in the conversion pushed the debut until just after Ready Player One’s premiere — which was unfortunate, but not tragic. Summer commitments like Ohio Comic Con and a recent al fresco screening of Back to the Future at the Gateway Film Center were already booked, and events to raise funds for children’s charities and Parkinson’s research were also in the works. But blockbuster blowouts aren’t the only option to get up close and personal with a piece of the past, or the future.

“I have a woman coming down today from Toledo with her husband to see the car, and he has no idea. Those are the reactions that are priceless,” Mulhollen said. “People get emotional, they get overwhelmed. I’ve had people cry before, whether you’re a CEO or the guy who operates the forklift. They may be in their forties, but when they sit in this car, suddenly they’re 10 again. It really is a time machine.” ▩

For scheduled events and private rental details, visit ohiotimemachinerental.com

August 2, 2018

Cocktail Curiosity

Originally published in the August 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Chad White doesn’t look like what you’d probably expect from the founder of the Ohio Rum Society. He lacks the sailor’s swagger and pirate’s pedigree some mistakenly associate with the world’s most versatile and diverse distilled spirit. Also absent is the alienating ego that easily identifies pretentious experts in elixirs as unmistakably as a parrot, an eye patch, or a peg leg.

Instead, you’ll find the modest charm and Midwestern demeanor of a kid from Toledo, captured by the allure of Columbus more than a decade ago, who carved out his own corner of the local craft cocktail scene in a category that stretches far past the fabled shores of the Caribbean.

“I was the victim of really great niche marketing,” White confessed of his college years at Ohio University and an early affinity for rum. “It wasn’t until I ordered a flight of premium rums with a friend at a rum bar in Cleveland that I realized there was more out there.”

The most familiar names in American rum aren’t awful, but aren’t exactly transparent either. Adulterated by artificial flavoring and coloring, many are more like alcoholic soda pop than true spirits. Luckily, White and his future wife’s shared love of travel afforded him the opportunity to collect interesting bottles from exotic locations, a hobby that quickly escalated, perhaps out of hand.

“It wasn’t long before my suitcases were coming back filled with rum,” he chided. “My wife told me I either had to drink it or share it—not just the rum, but my passion for it.”

Columbus has a knack for finding or following the next new thing. From coffee and cocktails to breweries and barbecue, White knew he couldn’t be the only one in town experimenting at home with his spirit of choice. What started as just another Facebook group to exchange articles and opinions on the emerging rum scene didn’t stay there long.

“That online conversation soon evolved into inviting friends to my house for tastings,” he recalled. “If there were a bunch of bourbon drinkers, I’d start out with something dry and well-balanced, but with a little weight, obviously aged, with bold flavors.”

Further reinforcing the notion that everyone already seems to know everyone else in Columbus, that first formal gathering at Grass Skirt Tiki Room quickly grew to connections and subsequent soirées at Curio, Denmark on High, Blind Lady Tavern, and The Light of Seven Matchsticks. It turned out there was quite a bit of quiet dabbling behind local bars as well, substituting rum for traditional base spirits.

“It connected me with all of these underground rum geeks—bartenders, proprietors, but also curious cocktailers—people who love brown spirits like bourbon, or white spirits like tequila. People who love the craft of fermentation and distillation.”

White is a recruiter for the tech sector by day, a knack that clearly extends beyond his keyboard. Unlike similar ‘societies’ that simply need to usher a readymade community into the same room, White had to educate and elevate rum among the masses while roping everyone into the same orbit.

Two years in, there’s no slowdown in sight, with meetings nearly monthly, an updated membership program, and a new name—recognizing the greater geographic reach and influence of his growing group of self-described ‘rumheads.’

“We began as the Central Ohio Rum Society, but soon started pulling in members from around the state for our tastings. So we’re now the Ohio Rum Society, even though our interest is really international.”

Themed meetings from “January in Jamaica” to “Rum, Beer, and Revolution” tap into the convergence of history and chemistry, as well as practical and tactical conversations, like getting rum into the country a little easier by flying back through Puerto Rico for a less onerous trip through U.S. Customs.

“I have three bottles of rum I ordered from Europe that have been waiting for weeks in Customs in Chicago,” he explained. “Importers are still figuring out if there is enough interest in the States to distribute here. So that’s part of the hunt.”

Speaking of flights, no conversation about rum would be complete without one. Like most, I know what I like even if I lack the keen palette or industry jargon to put it into words. But that’s where White and his fellow rumheads earn their reputation as approachable connoisseurs, not another class of liquor snobs. Chad carefully curated a collection based on my beer and bourbon background. In fact, he could easily spot each style and brand at a glance, an impressive feat after more than an hour of cocktails and chit-chat in a deliberately dim tiki bar.

He described the origin and attributes of each as I sipped and swished, noting the time and terroir evident in the sweet heat and woody finish of the aged rums before moving up to the bright bite and botanical nuances of the rhum agricole, made from distilled cane juice, not fermented molasses. The journey from 60 proof to 120 was dangerously delicious, and it’s a flight that might require a copilot to get home.

“Rum is a shapeshifter,” he explained. “That’s what we love about it.”

Obsession over such subtleties may sound like the musings of wine wonks. But as an admitted rum amateur, the flavor profiles actually fit right in line with my inner coffee geek—sometimes spicy, earthy, or even floral, but never one note.

We wrapped up with shots from his personal stash (a rare bottle from Barbados actually signed by the distiller) and a couple more classic cocktails, further burnishing the depth and breadth the right rum can bring to nearly any glass—not just those with a garish garnish or bawdy boat drinks in your buddy’s basement.

“None of these rums were available in Ohio when I started,” he revealed, noting the reach of the Ohio Rum Society in creating demand from restaurants to retail. “It’s why rum is still so shrouded in mystery for most, past the major brands. But that’s why we’re here. Columbus is a trendsetter, and we’re fundamentally changing the way people think about rum.” ▩

For more on the Ohio Rum Society, find them on Facebook.

July 1, 2018

Change is in the Wind

Originally published in the July 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Pop Quiz: What does the City of Columbus flag look like?

If you don’t know, you’re not alone. And even if you do, you probably aren’t too excited about it. But maybe that can change, and should change. At least that’s the opinion of an army of armchair vexillologists (flag geeks), who think many of our obscure symbols of civic pride nationwide are overdue for an upgrade.

Citizens from Sioux Falls to Milwaukee are organizing campaigns and committees to rethink the most obvious, yet often inconspicuous, incarnation of their cities. As an emerging epicenter of arts and innovation, perhaps we should join them.

“I didn’t even realize what our city flag looked like. I’m sure I’d seen it before, but never really paid much attention to it,” confessed Paul Nini, OSU design professor, and creator of The People’s Flag of Columbus. “This situation of a city flag like we have is pretty common because they’re generally created by governments, not designers. They just have the official seal and whatever else they throw on there.”

Nini was inspired by Roman Mars, Newark native and host of the prolific design-focused podcast 99% Invisible. Mars also happened to be the keynote speaker at an industry conference Nini attended in 2015 and the idea stuck.

“I tried to follow the basic rules of what makes a great flag. The design should be simple and memorable and have meaning behind the forms,” he explained. “It has negative white spaces that come through the center representing Broad and High, with the star as a symbol that we’re the state capital. The fields of blue and green with a semicircle represent the Scioto River and the Franklinton peninsula, the heart of the city, the original area of downtown. Anything more complicated gets tricky.”

For those who may not know, the current city flag is only the latest incarnation, with several since its inception. Over time, it’s come to incorporate images of the statehouse, Buckeye leaves, and the Santa Maria, along with the typical eagle, stars, and other stuff shared by nearly every flag of the era. But it’s all so cluttered and compressed, you have to squint to even make any of it out.

In contrast, Ohio’s swallowtail burgee is the rock star of state flags, cited by historians and designers alike as a prime example of following the rules, but still breaking them. For more than a century, Ohio didn’t even have an official flag. But Cleveland architect John Eisenmann’s design and the symbolism behind it still feel modern, unlike the Columbus flag, despite being about the same age.

“The original proposal tried to use the original colors, to get the city interested in it,” Nini recalled. “This was before Ginther was elected mayor and was still City Council president. I talked to his chief of staff who essentially said, ‘This is nice, but it isn’t really on our radar.’”

Reluctance is pretty typical as well. The current design was created by a CPD officer, denoted by the shield. That and the contemporary controversy over the city’s namesake are where sentiment and sensitivity collide. Even if our flag wasn’t what critics call a “badge on a bed sheet,” changing it won’t be easy.

“That’s very different than a city like Chicago with its four six-pointed stars embraced by everyone, from city government to its citizens,” noted Nini. “They love it. They use it everywhere. It’s a symbol of pride for the city.”

Nini was raised in Clintonville and still calls it home, but a recent grad school reunion in Chicago only reinforced his resolve that Columbus is a city that is changing, and our flag should reflect that.

“I was at my alma mater and friends and faculty were saying, ‘We keep hearing how cool Columbus is now,’” he said. “That’s what’s happening, and our flag should be a symbol of the city and where we are going. Whether or not everyone is going to get behind it, I have no idea.”

Nini isn’t the only one vexed by our city flag, though his design does seem to have the most traction. There’s an alternate concept that maintains the current color scheme and features a compass rose, a more iconic reference to Christopher Columbus. There’s even a “Bad Flags” blog based in Columbus with the snarky suggestion of a giant ice cream cone as a more accurate and less divisive symbol for the city.

“I decided not to worry about the government and rebrand it ‘The People’s Flag’ and promote it that way — a path of least resistance,” he chided. “Having been involved in lots of things over the years — as a musician, I’ve been in bands — I’ve learned it’s always best to keep your expectations low, because then you don’t get too disappointed.”

All great ideas get pushback. But we live in a branded city in a branded age. Former Mayor Coleman had the foresight to enlist local agency Ologie to help define and design the city’s visual identity. The flag wasn’t included in that effort, perhaps a hint of how truly invisible municipal flags have become.

“Last summer, I finally found a place that would do on-demand printing and fabrication of flags. Everywhere else I found before would make the flags, but I’d have to buy like a hundred of them and handle all of the sales and shipping myself,” he said. “Now you can buy just one, for anyone who wants to fly it. There are also t-shirts, buttons, decals. If you don’t want to buy a flag, you can still show your support.”

Those supporters have swelled beyond his students and the creative community, and literally letting folks put his idea into the wind has been a winning strategy in other cities where initial proposals to update their flags also fell flat. It’s a battle of attrition, but not a bitter one.

“Having grown up here in the ’60s and ’70s, the city has grown up too. People love the city now and appreciate it for what it’s become,” Nini said, hoping that organic adoption and a few influential brand champions can find the inroads that have thus far remained elusive. “If I drive by homes and local businesses that are flying the flag with pride, that’s the point. A flag should be something people can rally around, a brand that brings communities together. Even if the city doesn’t see it yet, hopefully they will. ▩

For more on The People’s Flag of Columbus, visit columbuspeoplesflag.com

July 1, 2018

Delicatessen Delicacies

Originally published in the July 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

If an upscale deli sounds like a half-baked idea, you obviously haven’t been to Harvey & Ed’s.

The latest creation from Cameron Mitchell Restaurants combines Jewish comfort food classics with artful execution in a Short North space that evokes the unpretentious ease of an East Coast eatery. Named for best friends and brothers-in-law, Harvey and Ed are the father and uncle of CMR President David Miller, with many of the menu offerings inspired by his childhood and the familiar fare of the family kitchen.

But noshes and nostalgia aren’t enough to build a cohesive brand that carefully couples corned beef with a cocktail bar. That’s why it took a team of talent to craft a dining experience new to Central Ohio, yet still unique among the establishments from which they drew their influence.

“We wanted to do something that felt East Coast,” revealed General Manager Jill Armstrong. She and Executive Chef Jonathan Basch traveled to New York and Philadelphia to find the elusive balance between uptown appeal and downtown authenticity. Both hail from Ohio and started relatively recently with Cameron Mitchell, and in the Short North — Armstrong as a server at The Pearl, and Basch as a prep cook at Marcella’s — affording the first-hand insights necessary to connect with the neighborhood and the clientele.

“We went to Katz’s, which is ‘go-go-go’ and not quite fine dining. We really loved Russ & Daughters and Sadelle’s, which have great vibes,” Armstrong noted. “In Philadelphia, we went to Abe Fisher, which is a high-end, more polished version of what we liked, all the way to Zahav, which is more critically acclaimed with a lot of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern influences.”

“That’s how we wrapped our heads around what Harvey & Ed’s was going to be, the difference between being a delicatessen and deli-inspired, a concept that didn’t really exist in this market, but would fit well in the Short North,” she explained.

The location was already a done deal, though the updated deli counter and dining room bear little resemblance to Rigsby’s Kitchen. Amid construction hassles that abound in the area, foot traffic is brisk, even if parking is still a mess. Despite the newness and faint echoes of the former Italian eatery, the restaurant feels like it’s always been there, or always should have.

“Some people are just excited about the new concept, but we also have people who moved here from New York,” explained Armstrong, noting the table where we were seated served a couple originally from Brooklyn the evening prior. “It’s a mix of adventurous eaters who want to see what we’re all about and transplants to Columbus from the East Coast.”

It’s an easy oversight for ambitious restaurateurs to focus first on atmosphere and aesthetic, and let the menu evolve over time. But Harvey and Ed’s is in many ways new for Columbus — built around a pent-up demand for delicatessen delicacies for some, yet having to essentially introduce ingredients and entire entrees to many. Even I didn’t know Columbus had a dearth of pickled herring until a friend was unwittingly pinched by the TSA trying to bring back a small jar from Russ & Daughters in his carry-on and made him toss it. He still can’t stop kvetching about it.

Though the capital city’s Eastern European roots are represented in the restaurant scene, and with a Jewish community among the largest in the Midwest, some dishes may still require a little deciphering for the uninitiated, offering a new appreciation of why Mrs. Maisel deftly described pot roast as “Methodist for brisket”.

“Not everyone knows what a knish is,” confessed Basch, charged with keeping the menu traditional, approachable, and innovative — which is a tall order for any chef. “We use chicken livers in our chopped liver. Some use beef livers, but there’s a little less iron and they’re sweeter, and we sweat the onions down in schmaltz”.

Bubbe’s Matzo Ball soup is far more familiar, even if it’s the size of a fist, just like Miller remembers them as a kid. Egg Creams are my own long-awaited soda fountain staple, despite the misnomer, containing neither — just Fox’s U-Bet chocolate syrup, milk, and seltzer in perfect proportion.

“Then we got more creative, from the Knoblewurst, which is beef sausage made at The Butcher & Grocer in Grandview, to the Pomegranate Braised Lamb,” he revealed. “Our brisket is confited. It’s so tender, you can cut it with a spoon.”

Purveyors were thoughtfully curated between authentic brands and local sources, a deliberate mix of homage and in-house. Block’s Bagels were a given, with Matt’s Bakery and Orlando for challah and rye, and Turano potato buns from Chicago rounding out the rolls. But the babka and pastries on the deli side are all baked in the back. After some trial and error, Basch decided his Columbus kitchen could hold its own preparing almost all of the fish you’ll find on the menu, from Kippered Salmon to Gravlax. Detroit’s Sy Ginsberg is synonymous with corned beef, closer than Katz’s, and for my money, just as likely make Meg Ryan writhe in her seat.

More sophisticated tastes won’t feel shorted either, from the Latke Royale (with crème fraîche, cured salmon, caviar, fennel, and green apple) to the Seared Seabass (served with vegetable goulash, spatzle, and cucumber yogurt), or keep more Midwest with a Pastrami Burger (aged Havarti, horseradish pickle, tomato, and brown mustard). They’ll even put a fried egg on it if you ask.

Adding a fried egg isn’t the only nod to Columbus culinary expectations. Their brunch expands the menu even further, while their deceptively simple cocktails are the thread that ties the days, nights, and weekends together.

“We don’t serve cocktails with a giant garnish and ten ingredients. We’re more spirit forward, with three or four high-quality ingredients,” explained Armstrong, with the Boozy Egg Cream served in a milk bottle with a metal straw offered as an example of the more playful, less stuffy, cocktail philosophy. “Our seven-day happy hour also includes wine and beer specials, with half-off craft cocktails and noshes as well. We wanted to be sure we reach the bar crowd and keep that a focal point. It balances the restaurant. We want Columbus to know we’re more than just a deli.” ▩

Harvey & Ed’s is located at 698 N High Street. Reservations at harveyandeds.com.

June 18, 2018

The Dube Abides

Originally published in the Summer 2018 issue of Stock & Barrel

When the beloved Blue Danube abruptly announced they were closing after 78 years, the news nearly broke hearts and local Facebook feeds. But early reports of their eminent demise were perhaps a bit premature.

Yes, the most recent operator Bob Swaim had planned to hold on into June. And the Margetis family, which has actually owned the building for decades while retaining rights to the name, quietly revealed plans to remodel and reopen the restaurant in the coming months. No one has offered much in the way of details or assurances, not wanting to become the victim or villain in this story. And neither narrative would likely allay fears about possibly losing yet another Columbus culinary landmark to a pretentious gastropub or gaudy watering hole with no soul.

Rather than dwell on what we don’t know, let’s celebrate what we do know about the Dube, hoping that a people’s history might sway both sides into preserving part of what makes The Blue Danube unique, instead of letting a cloudy and contentious transition turn into an excuse to sabotage or abandon what folks love most.

Gaye Spetka’s story stretches back to the early years, when her parents first got together following WWII. “It was more posh back then when my parents had their first date there. My father went to OSU after the war, and my mother was shocked when he ordered a beer,” she laughed. Spetka became a regular herself in the ‘70s. She was thankful for the chance to pass on the legacy before it may be lost. “It was a treat to take my niece and her now husband there to share the story of how her grandparents met. But so much of what I remember of the campus area isn’t the same; it’s ticky-tacky steel and glass structures and asphalt parking lots.”

Colin Dearth is among four generations of faithful patrons, marking family milestones at the Dube for decades. “My grandfather was an Army medic who came to Ohio State and met my grandmother. My parents were both juniors at OSU in the ’60s when I was born and lived right around the corner,” he recalled. Dearth grew up to serve in the 82nd Airborne and Special Forces, but didn’t forget simpler times as a teenager spent scarfing down fries smothered in chicken gravy with friends. “I’d come home and spend 20 minutes going over the menu, but still ordered the steak and eggs every time for like 10 years. And PBR pints for a buck-fifty? They may as well have filled up my trunk.” Now a father of three, he orders the vegetarian chef’s salad and hasn’t had a beer in years. “I’ve celebrated too many birthdays there to count. All of my daughters sat in highchairs at the Dube.”

Natalie Thomson was a waitress there in the ’80s, when the Margetis family previously ran the place. “My father played saxophone and we’d walk from Dick’s Den down to the Dube for a bite to eat afterward. I started working there when I was 17. Some nights, I was the only waitress working as we got closer to close,” she revealed. An anachronism in the age of the smartphone, Thomson also remembers when tenants from the adjacent apartments used the payphone as their personal phone number, and waitresses would run next door to let folks know when they had a call. The experience was a far cry from her eventual occupation as a chef, though formative and unforgettable. “I’ve worked in fine dining restaurants, but I still love a greasy spoon.”

Rico Sullivan also discovered the Dube in the ’80s as a teen, when he and his brother used to sell hot dogs during game days at OSU. “After the game, we’d all go to the video arcade, then The Blue Danube and try to act all hip like the college students we saw there. I fell in love with the fish platter back then,” he recalled. “We loved the atmosphere of the place.” Sullivan went on to teach martial arts and took his students there as well. His wife is originally from Pakistan and still considers it her first true taste of America. “My wife and I eat there and always get nostalgic about our first date. It was heartbreaking to find out they are closing. I have a lot of great memories invested in The Blue Danube.”

Dawn Chapman used to sneak into bars and clubs with her fake ID, but actually came to the Dube when she wanted to be alone. “Sometimes, you just need to escape everyone. I was very shy, so I’d go there to write, smoke cigarettes, and drink coffee. It’s also the first place I ever had a gyro,” she recalled. But it proved difficult to be alone for long at The Blue Danube, forging friendships that endure to this day — and others just for the night. “I always hoped to paint a ceiling tile. ‘Paint a tile and we’ll add it to the pile,’ they said, but I never got around to it. I used to make jewelry, and a few of my designs were inspired by certain ceiling tiles. Tile 32 is still my favorite.”

Mike Cavender found something strangely familiar at The Blue Danube since moving to Columbus in the late ’90s. “There are so many places where we used to go that are gone now. Places like North Campus Video and the Dube weren’t homogenized and still seemed a little rougher around the edges. That’s how I felt back then — rougher around the edges,” he explained. Though a “committed carnivore,” Cavender admitted their black bean burger was his first, and a pleasant surprise. His wife was already familiar with the Dube, particularly its infamous jukebox, when they met. But he’d long considered it a litmus test for whether a date was the right fit. “If you go there on a first date and are both into that kind of place, it’s probably going to work out.”

Despite the brisk bump in business, as the days slipped toward the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next, the Dube’s most recent incarnation just couldn’t hold on any longer. In fact, the Friday after the initial announcement, they had to close early because the kitchen ran out of food and had to restock — perhaps a hint in hindsight foreshadowing the final week. As for the iconic neon inside and out, that Grilled Cheese and Dom Pérignon special, and the fate of those famous ceiling tiles, no one seems to know for sure what will stay or go. When asked prior to the unexpected last call, a bartender simply replied, “Bob’s got a lot on his plate.” ▩

June 1, 2018

Blue Eyed Blues

Originally published in the June 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

When Garrett Dutton was eight years old, it was the Beatles who prompted him to take up the guitar. After learning to fingerpick Blackbird and adding a harmonica to the mix, by fifteen he was writing his own songs. But it wasn’t until he asked the owner of his local record store who else besides Bob Dylan and Neil Young played solo acoustic guitar and blew the harp that he was handed his first John Hammond album.

Though his stage name and notoriety were still years away, that was the moment Garrett became G. Love.

“When I heard his rendition of Statesboro Blues, my whole world changed,” G. Love recalled. “I was used to people strumming the guitar, and this was an entirely different sound — holding the bass, playing riffs, playing melodies, all at the same time. That sound guided me toward Delta blues.”

Faithful execution of traditional blues standards probably would have been enough to make a white kid from Philadelphia stand out amid aging hair bands, the grunge craze, or waning days of power pop. Free style rap was becoming as much a part of the emerging Philly music scene as Hall and Oates had by repurposing R&B in the 70s and 80s, or the defining influence of the Delfonics decades earlier. G. Love turned something old into something entirely new, a nod to the past with the pulse on the present.“

The hip hop side of what I do was just part of growing up in our generation and the music we listened to with our friends,” he explained. “I never really thought of myself as a rapper until one night when I was still a street musician, I finished one of my tunes and started singing Eric B. and Rakim’s ‘Paid in Full’ lyrics over the blues riff I was playing and it was like a light shown down on me. It was something no one else was doing.”

That reference to “our generation” wasn’t just a generalization. G. Love and I have some shared history, though our paths had never formally or formerly crossed. We’re the same age, and despite being unapologetically the product of urban, East Coast upbringings, our formative musical influences run a remarkably similar range from the Beastie Boys and Run DMC to Big Bill Broonzy and Robert Johnson. Just as his genre-defying debut album released, I happened to be the blues producer at a tiny public radio station that either didn’t mind (or didn’t know) how often I brought in milk crates of my own vinyl and patched the board into the only studio left that still had a working turntable. That’s when I first dropped the needle on “Cold Beverage” and the sound was unlike anything else on the air.

What easily could have been another catchy one-hit-wonder seemed to stick. Back before Spotify and SiriusXM, the way most musicians found new audiences was through independent radio and the small club circuit. That’s where G. Love and his Boston-born band, Special Sauce, won fans and defied critics. Though it’s been his enthusiasm to collaborate that continues to find new followings with albums and appearances from Ben Harper and Lucinda Williams to Keb’ Mo’ and Citizen Cope constantly redefining his raconteur style.

“Collaboration should be natural and sincere, but you don’t have to be best friends to cut a song together,” he noted. “Most musicians love to get that call to work on an album together. I know I do.”

One such call came from the Avett Brothers, who produced “Fixin’ to Die”, as well as backing G. Love with enough layered harmonies and bright banjo licks to create a credible Appalachian-inspired album of back porch blues.

“The Avett Brothers were huge fans when they were in high school. Seth had a broken cassette deck in his car that had my album ‘Yeah, It’s That Easy’ stuck in it, playing for a year,” he laughed. “They were already big when they took time out to do my album.”

Despite these seemingly unlikely musical alliances, his most well-known and enduring collaboration is probably with Jack Johnson. The two were introduced by a mutual friend and fellow surfer while G. Love was in L.A. working on an album.

“We came back to my little hotel room and traded songs after surfing all afternoon,” he revealed. “Basically every song he played went his first album, Brushfire Fairytales.”

G. Love championed Johnson’s music, even including an early bluesy release of “Rodeo Clowns” as a duet on that album, Philadelphonic. By the time Johnson was coming into his own, G. Love’s label was cutting smaller bands. Brushfire Records picked up G. Love, where his loyalties and royalties remain to this day.

It’s been a winding road, but not a weary one for G. Love and Special Sauce, celebrating the 25th anniversary of the release of their self-titled album this year with a tour of venues and cities large and small. But it’s those cities in the middle where he expects to keep finding ways to stay new and true to the music he admires and aspires.

“Twenty-five years later, I’m still finding new ways to do the same old thing. I used to get chased off the corner as a street musician, but now Philadelphia is exploding because New York has priced people out,” he explained. “Musicians, artists, and actors are going to thrive where they can afford to live, and get a little steam going. Places like Philly, Baltimore, and Columbus are where I think we’re going to see a wave of creatives over the next ten years, cities with scenes small enough to stand out, but still big enough to make an impact.” ▩

G. Love and Special Sauce will perform at the Columbus Arts Festival on June 9th. For more, visit columbusartsfestival.org