I’m Lucy Plum’s boyfriend. Some weeks ago, you got to read her story in this space about being unemployed. It’s a difficult, if not devastating, situation to be in. I was there for almost two years, and she put up with me, and I’ve been trying my best to put up with her. Neither side is a bed of roses. Sometimes it’s a bunch of thorns.  

It’s not a subject that usually occasions such levels of excitement, but the first Community Informational Meeting for the city’s new Comprehensive Plan effort has drawn a large and eager crowd from surrounding neighborhoods.  

This past spring, I had a book come out with the same title as this column. This was mainly because a lot of the material in the book first appeared here. This sparked some questions at book signings and in interviews as to how long this column has been around.  

I should probably make a note of it somewhere. This Sunday, we turn our clocks back an hour — you know, “spring forward, fall back.” I usually never remember to do it until days later while constantly being confused as to what time it really is.  

Dear Maija, I went to the city’s bike planning meeting last week, and I was really excited about the possibility of Cincinnati giving me a chance to ride to work without having a Biggie-sized Coke thrown against my back every day.  

The subtitle of Larry Gross’ latest independently published book says everything you need to know about its content, which largely consists of his Living Out Loud columns for CityBeat: “Adventures, Discoveries and Conclusions Made While Exploring a Life — Namely My Own.”   

The fact that Cincinnati, despite its size, feels like a place where everybody knows your name is a really charming quality, but it makes it difficult to interview people.I recently sat down with Stuart MacKenzie from The Lions Rampant in a semi-professional setting (The Comet) to talk about the band's new album.  

Fantasy football drafts. Tailgating. Running your mouth. There are many great aspects to this narrow season between face-melting heat and bone-chilling cold called we call Autumn. In many ways sports come to mind when mentally tallying the good things about fall. What Thanksgiving would be complete without you and your weakarmed relatives throwing wobbly passes back and forth in the yard?  

We here at Mini Gauge love a good prank. We’re seriously bummed about the proliferation of caller ID because we can no longer telephone our editor at 4 a.m. and tell him we’re a leader of a right-wing conservative group planning a “Tea Party” in his backyard.