Just Cured - Experience Fine Foods

After a full year in my work neighbor of Over the Rhine, I have slowly become attuned to the music of the neighborhood.  Most days, there is a cacophony of overlapping musical sounds coming from sources throughout the neighborhood.  It took me a while to unravel the musical rope into individual threads.

On the weekends, I can fix my location on the Market area by triangulating the relative volume of the music.  I know the older gentleman wearing a bowler and tie sings and plays the blues on his old guitar and portable amplifier at the east end of the Market House.  There is the dreadlocked drummer playing his bongo on the north side of the Market near the center.  With great frequency, there is a teenage saxophonist or violin player raising money for a trip or college tuition.

Daily, the little store on the south side of Elder Street plays R&B and 60′s Motown on a bookshelf stereo sitting in its doorway.  I often walk past, then find myself singing or whistling the song that was playing.   The owners occasionally fool me and play a selection of rap or hip-hop music, something I don’t recognize.

Young men walk along the streets, reciting rap lyrics from memory.  Often, friends join in for an impromptu duo or trio.

Passing cars announce their presence with the rattle of license plates and sheet metal.  The drivers play urban music at ear splitting volumes, the trunk mounted subwoofers shaking the cars apart.  In moderate weather, open windows pour the booming bass and harsh lyrics over the streets at traffic lights.

I can divine Joe Tucker’s mood the second I push open the door at Tucker’s.  Most days, the restaurant stereo is tuned to the classical music station.  On days when he needs to pick up the pace at his grill, classic rock music fills the small space.

Early this morning I heard for the first time musical sounds that were new to me.  As I walked around the corner onto Race Street, I perked my ears to soft sounds of classical music.  I looked around for a car with open windows, but at that hour, there were no cars on the street.  As I walked south on Race, the sounds became louder, eventually coalescing into Beethoven.  At the corner of Green Street, the music was loud, very, very loud.  I looked around for the source and saw only closed windows, then walked up and down the street, my eyes turned upward.  Eventually, I identified an apartment above the little market and check cashing store as the source.  When I walked past 40 or so minutes later, the resident was playing a Bach trumpet piece at a somewhat more moderate volume.

Had I missed hearing something that has been there all along, in this place a dozen or so feet from last week’s drive-by?  Is there a new resident in this building?

I’ll be keeping my ears open.