Baehr-Cat

Here's how the Bearcat came to be according to legend and UC's information services.

Kentucky was the fifth game of a nine-game schedule in 1914. Throughout four games in September and October, no one had managed to score against the Red & Black. Kentucky was the first real competition for Coach George Little's squad, and the students were eager for a good game.

At this time, the UC team had no real nickname. The teams were known variously as "Varsity," the "Cincinnati Eleven," the "Red & Black" and the coach's "boys," as in "Dana's Boys" or "Little's Boys." Mascots were uncommon among college football teams back then, and UC had no mascot, although a curious bulldog, clad in a "C" sweater and miniature hat, was depicted throughout the athletic sections of the yearbooks.

A new era was born when Kentucky came to town. The Wildcats were a formidable team and UC was struggling. During the second half of the game, cheerleader Norman "Pat" Lyon, building on the efforts of fullback Leonard K. "Teddy" Baehr, created a new chant: "They may be Wildcats, but we have a Baehr-cat on our side."

The crowd took up the cry: "Come on, Baehr-cat!" Cincinnati prevailed, 14-7, and the victory was memorialized in a cartoon published on the front page of the student newspaper, the weekly University News, for Nov. 3. The cartoon, by John "Paddy" Reece, depicted nine vignettes from the game. Front and center is a bedraggled Kentucky Wildcat being chased by a creature labeled "Cincinnati Bear Cats." Reece was certainly inspired by his editor - the same "Pat" Lyon who led the "Baehr-cat" cheer.


Leonard K. "Teddy" Baehr

Farmer Gone Wild

5-Minute Theory: The Worstest Ever

Wind up the clock. Here we go.

In the history of the world there has never been anything as bad, terrible, brain-melting horrible as Olive Garden commercials. Not even Hitler. I don't need 4:45 min. to expound. The end.

Food Video with Leah

I'm a lucky dude.

Mustachioed Baby

Question: Is this the most amazing video ever made?

Answer: Maybe?

5-Minute Theory: Doubt = The Great Paralyzer

Put another cinco minutos on the clocko. I'll try not to go over this time.

Every one of us has a tiny demon that's drilled itself down into the depths of our brain. The Doubt Demon. He has a feathered back hair do and thinks he's the Arthur Fonzerlli of demons. I'm wasting time on this stupid description.

Doubt keeps us from doing stuff.

Doubt says: You don't really know what you want to do with your life. You don't really like ______ enough to really pursue it. Pursuing _______ costs too much money. It's impractical.

Doubt says: You're not as smart as Jonjon. You're not as spiritual as Bobbob. You can't read like they do. You'll never get it so why even try?

Doubt says: You're not qualified for _______. You don't have enough experience. People will see through you. They'll know you don't know. You'll get exposed. Then embarrassed. You need to wait. It's too early to take on _________. Take it on someday when you actually have the appropriate experience. You're simply not ready. Sorry.

Doubt says: Meryl Streep done me good.

You say: Hilarious joke, Brad.

Doubt says: They don't really think it was hilarious, Brad. It was a stupid joke. You should stop wasting everyone's time with these mega dumb posts. Where do you get off thinking you have a right to type words into the internet.

I say: Time's up.

Boca

Last week I had the amazing opportunity to shoot a video with Chef David Falk at Boca, arguably the nicest restaurant in Cincinnati. Seriously, I have the best job in the world. Two things shocked me about this experience.

1. how many people said to me after telling them I went to Boca, "Do you mean Buca Di Beppo?" Wow.
2. how good a grilled salad can be.

A quick story. Back in March I was the officiant for my friends Ryan and Carrie's wedding in NYC.


A month ago, Ryan asked me for a recommendation for the best restaurant in Cincinnati. His sister-in-law was coming to town. So I told him about Nada (also started by Chef David), Honey (in Boca's old digs in the Northside) and Senate (the hip, new kid in town). He pushed me to recommend a place that is top top notch. I told him the obvious choice is Boca. They make brussels sprouts that are so good you want to cry. But it's expensive, I told him. He said it didn't matter. His sis-in-law was a baller.

Fast forward a couple weeks from that conversation and I get (in the mail) a thank you note and a gift card to Boca from the double-crossing lying liar. No trip to Cincy for his in-law sissy. He tricked me, and I love/hate him for it.

So this Friday, Leah and I are heading out to this amazing restaurant on Ryan and Carrie. It's no Buca Di Beppo but I bet it'll do. Woop woop!

Jane Mowery, Will You Dance with Me?

Jane...this could be our jam at the reception.

"I tip on alligators and little rattle snakers"



via D.Kalbach

5-Minute Theory: Why Stuff Sucks

Put five minutes on the clock. I have another theory to not flesh out properly.

A lot of stuff sucks. It sucks that people are flipping out about the mosque down near Ground Zero. It sucks that churches are known more for hating people, places and things than loving them. Apathy sucks. Here's my theory of why this is:

Research is Dead.

Nobody does their own homework. We listen to the one guy who wrote a book about Islam who says they're all terrorists and we believe him. We tell people he's trustworthy because he used to be one. He knows. So everything he says about Muslims wanting to kill every non-Muslim must be true. We don't do any real research ourselves. We listen to the Glen Becks and Keith Olbermans and call it a day.

Religion sucks because we just inherit our beliefs and never do the research to figure out if we actually believe it ourselves. We accept our paper thin theology from our parents and do one of two things. 1. We grow apathetic and never really do anything with it besides have vague ideas of what we kind of believe. 2. We pick a few things that stand out and fight for them because in that fight we find at least a little purpose. The death or non-exsistence of personal research creates an ignorant brand of apathy and/or zealotry that leads to awkward late night bar talk or pointless pickets full of misspelled signs and bad group chantings.

I went over by four minutes. Oops. And I still didn't make sense of this un-researched theory. Lame.

Hanson All Grow'd Up

This song is ridiculously catchy. And over-the-top sunshiney and silly. Weird Al's playing tambo for bopsake. Love it.