I took the family up to Cleveland for a long weekend on June 11th – 14th. AA was celebrating its 75th anniversary so Glenn, Justin, Randy and myself all went down to Akron for the Founder’s Day activities on Friday and Saturday.

But starting at the beginning … we got into Mentor on Thursday evening and went straight to Zappitelli’s where Justin had a feast waiting for us. Justin made me a killer Italian Deluxe pizza and then also made a family-style table set with eggplant rollitini, chicken marsala, barbeque ribs, spaghetti with meatballs, cavatelli, chicken with peppers and then we chased it all down with cannoli. Hohoho, I ate so much that I wasn’t right for two days. It was like someone filled me with quick-crete. Not the food’s fault to be sure but moreso just another example of how the human body likes to punish you as you get older. In the end, it was a magical elixir known henceforth as “poop tea” that was to save me. Too much information, I know. But it’s my blog. Either man-up and read about my constipation adventures or go back to filling your brain with Facebook and lolcats.
On Friday morning I got up early and played a few holes up at Erie Shores Golf Course and then hit a bucket of balls at nearby Red Mill driving range. I hit the ball well and it started the day off right for me.
Around noon Glenn got home from work and we went and picked up Justin and Randy in Mentor and headed on into Akron. We registered for Founder’s Day and bought some books and tokens at the gift shop. We had some time before the big meeting at St. Thomas hospital so we went over to Dr. Bob’s house where I picked up a token and a few gifts as well as some kewl t-shirts. There were quite a few motorcycles over at Dr. Bob’s already but it wasn’t so packed that we couldn’t get around and see everything.
After Dr. Bob’s it was close to dinnertime so we went into the commercial cheeseball area of Akron and grabbed some grub at Longhorn steakhouse. I was tempted to order a large bowl of bran and some prune juice, but alas they didn’t have it on the menu so I had steak and lobster instead. I was on vacation and wasn’t going to let a little gastro-intestinal cloggage keep me from pigging out.
After dinner it was off to St. Thomas Hospital where we had plenty of time to check out the chapel where they had a nice archive with the works of Sister Ignatia. I read every display and every letter in the archive’s displays. Sister Ignatia’s small wing at the Saint Thomas Hospital was the first place alcoholics were treated with a 12-step-based program within the context of the modern medical establishment. Sister Ignatia went on to start another such facility called “Rosary Hall” in Cleveland. Rosary Hall (now in St. Vincent’s Hospital) and Ignatia Hall are still treating drunks today.
Every year on the Friday night before Founder’s Day a group of Canadian AA’s come down to St Thomas and host a panel meeting at St. Thomas hospital. This meeting is always a hoot. The Canadian contingent that runs this annual get-together are all the real deal.
After the Friday night meeting we all headed home and rested-up for Saturday.

On Saturday we got up early, headed back into Akron and caught an early meeting at the basketball gymnasium (the James A. Rhodes arena or JAR as we like to call it). It was a good meeting (they all are). At this point I hadn’t had a meaningful visit to the bathroom in about 36 hours. This is about 24 hours longer than normal for me so I strongly suggested that we have Mexican food for lunch – which we did. I loaded-up on salsa, verde sauce, pico de gallo, onions, peppers, pork, tortillas and about a gallon of sweet tea all in the hopes that a return to my native diet would set my guts straight. I smoked lots of cigarettes. Still no go.

Saturday afternoon we went to another meeting in the JAR where the temperature was roughly 400 degrees and wherein I found myself seated next to a man who had surely spent the entirety of his life avoiding air travel as there is simply no way this person could have ever fit in a standard (or first class) airplane seat. Given the physical dimensions of the seats, he had no choice but to be partially spilled-over into the seats next to him. I was praying that the 15 pounds of food I had eaten since we arrived in Ohio would not start suddenly gurgling and burbling as I was pretty pinned-down by the large dude next to me. In fact, I was in a position to not only ruin his day but to assuredly make him think twice about ever sitting next to (or on top of) anyone in a public auditorium ever, ever again. And the meeting ran late. I stayed until I couldn’t take it anymore and then let Justin, Glenn and Randy know I had to get some air.
From there we went and checked out the Mayflower Hotel. It is from the Mayflower Hotel that Bill Wilson made the phone call to a local woman named Henrietta Seiberling who arranged the meeting between Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith at her estate which was to become regarded as the first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Anyway, enough of the history lesson and on to the saga of how I finally became unconstipated.
After shooting some photos in the Mayflower (it was very empty in there which was odd because the first time I visited the Mayflower on Founder’s Day weekend you could barely walk it was so crowded) we headed across the street to check out the minor league baseball park. I thought the walking would do me some good. We still had a few hours left until the big meeting started at the Akron University Football Stadium (called Infocision Stadium).
Seeing as how it was hot and humid and we had a few hours to kill we all decided to find an air-conditioned joint to stop and eat something light before the big meeting at eight o’clock. We settled on Rockne’s in Cuyahoga Falls. We sat at the bar so we wouldn’t have to wait for a table (some things will never change as I suspect the four of us have cumulatively logged around 80 years sitting at bars). I had a salad and a fruit plate and the other guys had wings and other foods that looked really good but were genuinely painful to look at.
From there we went to the stadium and attended the big meeting. It was a great meeting. We were able to watch the sun set over the stadium and we began to cool off as an evening breeze swept through. The speaker had some great one-liners and some really awesome anecdotes. He was a pleasure to listen to.
We got home to Glenn and Suzanne’s house in Madison around 11 or so and I finally let Suzanne know that I was having some issues with my bowels. She had noticed that I wasn’t raiding her fridge quite as enthusiastically as I usually do and offered to make me up some “poop tea”. I don’t know what’s in that tea. It tasted sorta like black licorice. I worried that the effects would be sudden and violent and was secondarily worried that it wouldn’t work at all. I went to bed and woke up the next morning to go to the bathroom wherein I sat and read the collected works of William Shakespeare. No, not really. But let’s just say that I now have a better idea of the relief that a woman must feel after giving birth to a 12 pound newborn. I was a new man. And just in time too because Suzanne had made up a bunch of awesome sausage that little Suzanne had bought a few days before from a German butcher in Cleveland. It was divine on so many different levels.
This was our last day up in the Cleveland area and Glenn had scored tickets for all of us to go see the Indians play the Washington Nationals. We didn’t know it when we got the tickets but that Sunday would prove to be the day that Stephen Strasburg made his second major league start. He pitched a gem. He had a 2-hitter going when they pulled him in the seventh inning. In Travis Hafner’s first at-bat I hollered, “hit one to me Pronk!”. Two pitches later Hafner jacked a low, inside fastball over the right-field wall about 20 feet below where I was sitting. Being a hopelessly superstitious baseball fan I tried shouting the same cheer in his subsequent at-bats without any good results. Still, I believe that his first home-run is entirely attributable to me.
Slider, the Tribe’s mascot, just happened to come over to our section because a group seated in front of us was celebrating a birthday or some other special occasion. We were able to get some neat photos of the girls with Slider as a result. Even though the girls were hot and I don’t think they particularly understand baseball – I think they had a good time because we kept them busy between the play area, eating ballpark food and just moving around and seeing the sights of the park.

The game was a blast even though the Tribe lost. That Sunday game was also dubbed a “Kid’s Day at the Park” which meant that any kids in attendance were allowed to run the bases after the game was over. Of course the children’s parents must be there too to make sure everything goes in an orderly fashion around the bases. I have probably seen a hundred games at Jacob’s Field (it will never be Progressive Field in my mind) but I had never set foot on the actual field. I moved to Cleveland in 1994 when the park opened and the Indians began their tear through the AL Central throughout the 90′s. I have many, many good memories of those teams. It was very spiritual for me to get down on the diamond with my kids and my father-in-law (who is a lifelong Indians fan) and run the bases. The grass was so beautiful.


After the game we all went back to Madison and feasted on a smoked brisket, german sausage, potato salad and cole slaw. Justin and Randy came over for dinner as well and we all had a nice visit.
It was an excellent long weekend in Cleveland – a town that will always be my adopted second home no matter where I currently collect my mail.
Photos are here.
written by mark