Birney Imes

On the drive home Wednesday afternoon after a morning of hiking with friends in William Bankhead National Forest, I happened upon a derelict barbecue joint, which, like so many beauty shops with diverting names (Hair 911, Me and Mrs. Jones, the Hairport), merited a second look.

A cross the river at the ballpark, they are singing the National Anthem. Here on the Kentucky side of the river, a vaguely familiar rock song is wafting from the riverboat moored nearby. Adding to the cacophony a dozen geese meandering on the water nearby are honking quietly among themselves.

It’s no secret that Columbus enjoys a rich architectural heritage, one that dates back to the first half of the 19th century. Loop through downtown or cruise the Southside neighborhoods near the river. The evidence is abundant.

Melvin Cunningham got his first leaf blower in 1990. It was a Homelite from Lowe’s, red and bulky, $79.95 — he still has the price tag.

It is a common business strategy. When things aren’t going well, you make a course correction. You try something different.

When he was a boy living on the Gulf Coast, Bill Moss would entertain himself by walking nearby railroad tracks. Those railroad tracks, you might say, provided young Bill with an early art lesson.

Four years ago Ronnie Colvin and Charles Clemmons opened a business in a portable building that had been inserted into the bay of a defunct carwash near the intersection of 14th Avenue and 20th Street North.

Had you been in Buenos Aires on Tuesday afternoon, you would have found the entire city delirious with joy.

This is a story about how an antique Chevy pickup truck and a bakery in Virginia sparked the creation of a coffee house.

Full disclosure, I am no fan of Ben Shapiro, as anyone who has ever gritted their teeth and defied their best impulses and read one of my letters anyway