This post is somewhat delayed, considering the subject of its contents occurred last week, but it’s something I’ve thought about since. Last Wednesday, I went to see the band Boston in concert with a couple of friends from work. It was a typical July day for Cleveland: upper 80’s and sunny. The venue was the Scene Pavilion (formerly known as Nautica), located right next to the Cuyahoga River on the West Bank of the Flats. The concert itself was impressive; I was amazed at how well that group can still rock.

Sitting in the stands, the city of Cleveland proved a fantastic backdrop to their performance. Immediately behind the stage flowed the river, whose cool waters provided a breeze of comfort to those of us in attendance. Across the river to the left was the East Bank and, just up the hill beyond, West 6th and its myriad establishments. Looking along the river to the right, one could see a few of the many lift bridges that lend such unique character to the Cleveland skyline. Directly behind us loomed the Powerhouse with its bustling watering holes. Straight ahead in the distance stood downtown with its humble yet distinctive towers.

As the sound of rock ‘n’ roll washed over me, these few scenes visible from my seat in the stands came to represent the many things that make this city special. I just don’t think there’s any place like it. And so it was, with perhaps a predictable irony (tell me you didn’t see it coming), on that hot summer night Boston helped me realize anew how much I dig the city of Cleveland.