New theater director at the Drexel doesn't mind being stuck in traffic, particularly if he has some Kittie's at his side
Jeremy Henthorn grew up in Delaware, Ohio, a fact of which he is abnormally proud. He once crushed crates of rotten vegetables for a living, and has sold meat over the phone. Eventually, he went on to attend film school, run the Ohio Film Tax Credit and program the oldest film festival in the country before landing his current position as theater director at the Drexel Theatre. Here are a few things he loves.
Columbus record stores (every last one of them)
Not to be too dramatic, but record stores may be humanity's last line of defense in the war against homogenized culture. No algorithm can make up for being able to go into a room filled with bins of vinyl and walls of CDs. The opportunity to engage with other music lovers, actually hold and purchase a piece of art, and perhaps, if you're worthy, be berated by a clerk in a '90s Paul Westerberg concert T-shirt is one of my greatest joys. Record stores, video stores and (ahem) small, indie movie theaters provide gathering places that separate cool from a strip mall.
Any bar that opens at 5:30 in the morning, serves beer in cans and ties a metal circle to a rope so that well-lubricated individuals can swing it at a hook nailed into the wall should be at the top of anyone's list of reasons to love the city. The Ruck holds a special place for me because I once won money off a biker named Tallahassee (I like to assume that was his given name) in maybe the ugliest pool game ever played.
After I had kids, I came to realize the value of a good pastry, and there is no better place than Kittie's. The cupcakes are the pastry equivalent of a shot at the bar, and the cinnamon rolls are the pitcher of Guinness. This place is a sugary work of art that I would put up against bakeries from any major city.
Sure, it feels like the city is constantly and sometimes randomly under construction, and jackhammering concrete at 7 a.m. is the city's rooster call, but living in Los Angeles taught me to appreciate being able to get from one side of town to the other in less than 2 hours and 45 minutes. Seriously, in LA you can wait 20 minutes to make a left turn, only to run into a second traffic jam because a Humvee is determined to get into a two-sizes-too-small space outside of Whole Foods. Columbus traffic in comparison to most cities is a magic carpet ride.