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It’s sort of disgusting, really. Like those ESPN ads showing a Michigan and an Ohio State fan cuddling on the couch, it’s just plain unnatural. So when the Steelers open against the Browns on September 9, couples with rival allegiances should be prepared to brave the fight.

Last year, Maria, a 26-year-old ex-pat from Pittsburgh, and her then-boyfriend Jim, a hardcore Browns fan, made a deal. They’d watch the Steelers-Browns game at the same bar with her friends … but he’d show up head-to-toe in Browns gear and wouldn’t pretend to be happy if her team won.

Everything seemed fine -- kind of -- until she checked her MySpace page later. He’d used Photoshop to paste a Browns jersey on an old picture. This was unacceptable. The two broke up soon after. On subsequent dates, Maria was sure to check future boyfriends one their loyalty to the Browns.

Gina and Brad are two former Case students who also possess opposite loyalties. When the Steelers made the playoffs two years ago, Brad chivalrously agreed to watch the games with Gina at Panini’s on Coventry. He was cool when the bar brought in Yuengling, and even tolerated the excessive replaying of the song “The Steelers are going to the Super Bowl … here we go…”

But when owners of the bar took down a Browns sign over the door and replaced it with ha large Steelers sign, it was just too much. He had to leave. Their relationship ended soon after.

There is proof, however, that mixed couples can survive.

Helen and Don Geiselman have been married 36 years. When the Strongsville couple first married, Helen forbade any Browns paraphernalia from the house. “To this day, there’s no orange and brown stuff in the house,” she says. “I won’t even allow orange on my little grandson. Thank God my husband’s first passion is golf.”

Helen will still watch Browns games with her husband, but “only to see them lose.” It’s hard to watch the games with her in-laws, who are devoted Browns fans. Things get tense, but “we don’t, like, fist fight.” Asked if she had any advice for other mixed couples, she pauses. “I don’t know if they should marry.” – Rebecca Meiser

Last week East Cleveland cop Shawna Glaspy got five years’ probation – and we’re not making this up – for helping a man escape.

When other officers arrived at HQ with a newly arrested man, Glaspy him as a family friend. She ran his background check with a false name, then snuck him the key to his handcuffs. After he left, she broadcast over the radio that he’d overpowered her and escaped.

But the ruse backfired. When the man learned of Glaspy’s tale, he turned himself right back in and ratted her out.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Glaspy’s first run-in with the law. Two years ago she beat aggravated robbery charges after two kids claimed she threatened to arrest them if they didn’t pay her off.

But at least Glaspy was a low-level dispatcher. In that wacky drama known as East Cleveland PD, the hi-jinks also runs to the high command.

Last week, Mayor Eric Brewer suspended Police Chief Patricia Lane over $800 in confiscated drug money that went missing. He believes it was spent on Indians tickets. -- Jason Nedley

The sign on the wall said it all: “There’s a fine line between art and porn.” And that bit of Einsteinly wisdom has netted $14,000 for the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Trangender Community Center of Greater Cleveland from its annual Summer Party benefit last weekend.

The $30-a-ticket blowout attracted 350 people, who bid on a silent auction of more than 100 donated items. On a table marked “For Your Naughty Bits,” Cleveland-based Ambiance lived up to its “store for lovers” motto by contributing four auction items -- including a $175 basket of vibrators, batteries, lubes, and condoms, and a $235 glass dildo. Porn purveyor Body Language chipped in five auction lots of erotica, including vintage posters, prints, and a glossy, $50 photo essay aptly titled Nice Ass by shutterbug David Aden Sprigle. Even Gale’s Westlake Garden Center got in on the filthfest by donating a $50 gift certificate labeled “Who You Callin’ a Hoe?”

But the bidding frenzy hovered over anything autographed. There was the signed Become YouCD by the Indigo Girls. Lesbi-folkie Kate Clinton scribbled her name on a copy of her Making Light vinyl album. And Dolly Parton’s head shot drummed up a betting war between at least four bidders. Perhaps the description on the index card next to it created the stampede: “Dolly Parton is everyone’s favorite, female drag queen,” it read. Indeed. -- Cris Glaser

Michael Ruhlman, backtracking in black and white.

Since the Travel Channel aired No Reservations: Cleveland on Monday, many locals have aired their discontent for the places that Anthony Bourdain did and didn't visit. Even Scene's own Jared Klaus had a few issues of his own, with which I'd have to concur. Skyline Chilli? WTF?

However, Bourdain did make up for his Cincinnati-inspired grievance by visiting Hot Sauce Williams with Cleveland's culinary star, Mike Symon. But what most critical viewers have clearly forgotten is that television is little more than an art of omission. According to Michael Ruhlman's blog, there were many places Bourdain visited that were cut from the final edit, including the mysterious Velvet Tango Room. Ruhlman says that even Bourdain was pissed that the uber-exclusive bar didn't make it on tape. -- Denise Grollmus

He speaks!

Mayor Frank Jackson has a habit of keeping a low public profile. So low, in fact, that if it weren’t for his appearance on the occasional Tri-C billboard, we might have assumed he had gone into hiding soon after the November 2005 election.

Which is why this week was so surprising. First, the Invisible Mayor appeared on Channel 5 on Monday, waxing poetic about how improved public schools can help lift a city out of poverty. (Since his continually worsening schools are helping drive this city further into poverty, Jackson is apparently considered an expert on this topic).

Then, he gave a similar speech on 90.3 WCPN’s “The Sound of Ideas." That show was an hour long, and Jackson had to respond to listener comments. We feared the excessive socializing might cause him to spontaneously combust. He somehow survived. Of course, his arguments didn't exactly make sense. At one point, when discussing how the city and county spend millions of dollars on workforce development -- supposedly to get more people into higher payer jobs -- he had to admit that we aren't really getting much bang for our buck. How will he fix it?

"What I have to do is what I do," he said. Which is interesting, because we've never really seen him do anything.

"I change systems. I change bureaucracies and I change cultures...I make it work and work right."

Hmm. Ok then.

Anyway, add those media appearances to a handful of recent quotes and sound bites about our little crime and poverty problems, and it seems that Jackson’s been on a regular media blitz.

You’d think he was running for office or something. -- Lisa Rab

If you didn't go see Portia Surreal -- the world's top-ranked erotica/fetish/cabaret/house DJ -- at the Velvet Dog on Thursday night, here's a taste of what you missed. Caution: This footage may contain boobies.

Kicking yourself because you didn't know about it? Scene readers knew she was coming. Pick up a new edition every Wednesday at a bar, street corner, or draped over a homeless man near you. -- D.X. Ferris

The night couldn’t have been more perfect on Whiskey Island on Thursday. As the sun melted like a floweret of butter into the calm Erie waters, a rec volleyball team called the Flailing Sand Fleas were being beaten into submission by a far superior foe, a team called Ballz.

Lying on the cool grass, watching life go by, nothing could have tasted better than a cold beer. Unfortunately, for anyone who had brought brews to enjoy, a walking bicep with an ear-piece and a golf cart that said “Whiskey Island Security” had to come crash the party.

“Excuse me sir,” he said to one man walking with a cooler. “You’re going to have to leave that at your car.” Later he walked up to a circle of attractive young ladies. “Girls, can I look inside your cooler?” Apparently, hot girls getting drunk and bouncing up and down in the sand together is a crime worth cracking down on.

It turns out that you’re allowed to drink at Whiskey Island, but that you have to purchase your libations from park’s bar, the Sunset Grill. Allow C-Notes to be the first local alternative weekly blog to call bullshit on this one. It’s a public park, dammit, and you should be allowed to get publicly wasted however you choose. We’re pretty sure that argument has no grounding either in law or common sense, but, you know what, f*&K it! Let the people get wasted!* -- Jared Klaus


*This blog has been brought to you by a lot of Holy Moses Ale and a fat-ass blunt.

Tiesto, one of the world’s best and most widely recognized trance DJs -- a dude who regularly spins in Ibiza and other electronic dance music hotbeds -- is heading to little old Cleveland.

At the forefront of the EDM-DJs-as-superstars phenomenon, Tiesto’s career blew up in the late 90s. He then started performing solo sets that drew huge crowds, helping start the trend of trance DJs performing solo shows like concerts.

He’ll be spinning on September 10, at Metropolis. Check out promoter Mike Mellon’s Myspace page for more info. -- TK Kim

It’s official: Pay-by-the-Pound is leaving Cleveland. If you don’t spend your afternoons stoned, and you don’t have a truck-scale in your bathroom, you may know the wonder of Natural Buffet, in the food court at Tower City. For the overweight pot-head population, it was the equivalent of Mecca, only you don’t have to wear white and worry about being trampled to death (unless, that is, you’re in line in front of Cuyahoga County Commissioner Jimmy Dimora).

But, sadly, this wonderful phenomenon is leaving Cleveland, another casualty of the slowly fading all-you-can-eat-gorge-yourself-until-you-shart industry. Where else can you pile mash potatoes, macaroni salad, and chicken wings into your fat-ass with no one telling you that you can’t have any more?

For anyone familiar with this special place, you know there was a science to the pay-by-the-pound lunch. It wasn’t just about piling food up on a tray, like those celery-eaters over at Subway thought. Rather, it was a fine balancing act. You’ve got nine bucks in your pocket. Is one more crispy Chinese noodle on top of your salad going to tip you over? It takes a true buffet connoisseur to be able to eyeball these things. Now, with Pay-by-the-Pound gone, it looks like it’s back to doing laps around the food court until you’ve taken enough free samples of General Tso’s that the manager finally recognizes you and makes you pay for a meal.

A sad, sad day indeed. – Jared Klaus

If you think all the talk about regionalism is because it's a good idea, you need to think about the appeal of "one size fits all" clothing.

The fact is it can be worn by all, but fits no one. It appeals to politicians because they become less accountable and more distant from the concerns of taxpayers. The advertised "economies of scale" have not been evident in other cities that have tried this form of government. And think about the gross inefficiency and unresponsiveness of county government. They do one thing well: declare tax increases.

Regionalism is a Trojan horse containing bureaucracy, inefficiency and unresponsive government.

Blayne Vilk
Bedford

Turns out it's not just our readers who hate us. Our own writers hate us too. This week, our tastiest batch of hate mail comes from a freelance writer who apparently had a small problem with changes made to his article -- about a Shogon Assassins show at In the Living Room Cafe next Wednesday -- by Michael Gallucci, the editor of Scene's Night & Day section.

You know, if your pupose with your write ups was to discredit people who are actually putting in work to achieve is your purpose, you keep that hoe shit to yourself. I am already a credited writer, poet, activist, artist, graphic designer and more. I don't need your magazine trying to change my write ups to discredit what I do. I have so much more going for what I'm about you can't hold me however hard you and your little circle at the scene tries to do. For real write the shit and manipulate it for yourself. That show was legit and it still goes down...

Whatever your intentions were to make Malikee who was already an internationally voiced and heard activist for pushing 20years, and the group, G-style and Free, the coffee shop and anything else, don't cross my path and I won't cross yours. I am already aware of professionalism, the legitimancy of what I'm doing, and please if your in tentions were to try to make people look like fools, then as I said, keep that bullshit amongst your little downtown office clowns. and fuck you to your face if you think its about playing people for a joke, the poets, emcee's, and artists involved with what S.A. are doing are continuously working with the community, and the public through violence and struggle firsthand and personally.... like I said you think what is going on out here is a joke, keep that bullshit with your little office friends I don't need that fake shit your trying to post like I can't write an simple fucking write up and I don't need you playing anybody involved with

it looking like a fool... go back to playing yourselves for the worst cuz I don't have time for it. If you ever need me to come down to ya'll office to clarify it in person, MY PLEASURE, fuck the games and the bullshit ...

Malkiese Paythress

A concussion will keep Jason Short out of tonight's preseason finale.

Browns special-teams freak Jason Short will sit out tonight’s preseason finale against the Bears, with what is an incredibly predictable injury for him: post concussion syndrome.

Short’s not a household name among casual fans, but his injury is a total bummer for anyone who enjoys watching violent men run into each other really violently. A Painesville native and Riverside High grad, Short made his name – in high school, at Eastern Michigan U., in NFL Europe, for the Philadelphia Eagles, and in various fistfights along the way – by showing more or less complete disregard for his body. Remarkably, despite playing only on special teams, NFL players voted him among the league’s most feared players last season. As Scene wrote in its June 27 feature story, “The Human Grenade,” the Browns signed him in May, and Short was ...

thrilled to play for his hometown team. But he knows his fate is a numbers game. "It's always gonna be a fight," he says. "And they're going to always make you believe that it's a bigger fight than it is."

Coaches won't discuss Short's future. But former Browns coach Sam Rutigliano, who remains close to Browns' staff, says Short has impressed. "He's gonna make the team," Rutigliano says. "He's a 1950s guy. He is dirt-tough. I mean dirt-tough. He will electrify special teams. He covers kicks like a kamikaze pilot . . . This guy is Superman."

It hasn’t been reported how Short suffered his concussion; smart money says he was blowing up a wedge on a kick-off. Either way, the injury has to concern the Browns somewhat. Short told Scene he’s suffered at least five concussions since high school, probably more. It also has to concern his new wife and family, especially considering the onslaught of news in recent years about post-career health issues among former NFL players. The league will never admit it, but their sport, while beautifully so, is damn violent, and and it’s making people damn sick.

In the end, though, this is likely of little concern for the Browns or Short right now. The team's worried about kicking off against the Steelers next week. And Short’s worried about making the team, so he can be the guy covering that kick-off. Head first, no doubt. – Joe P. Tone

(Sporadic book reviews from a really slow reader and cable-TV junkie. The first in an occasional series, maybe.)

Good Roots: Writers Reflect on Growing Up in Ohio, edited by Lisa Watts, published by Ohio University Press. From $12 and up online.

This painfully nostalgic anthology is chock full of the biggest hitters from Ohio's literary pantheon: Akron's Rita Dove; Shaker Heights' Susan Orlean; teen scream novelist R.L. Stein; Hudson's Ian Frazier of New Yorker fame; Lorain's Michael Dirda; and others.

The book is divided into three sections based on the distinct geographies of Ohio, from the soot-covered mills of "City Sensibilities" to the salamanders and sycamores of "In Fields and Woods." While Susan Orlean quickly sketches a day at the pool during her painful pubescence, Ian Frazier elaborates on his final escape from the stillness of Hudson's manicured hills, and Mary Oliver dedicates stanzas to illiterate grandmothers standing in kitchens. By the end of the book's 201 pages, you can safely say that you've traversed every corner of our great state in perfect prose.

But what makes this collection of stories so fascinating is not the obvious portraiture of iconic industry or woods. It's how each writer's relationship with the Buckeye state has contributed to their literary success, for better or worse. R.L. Stein writes that his Columbus suburb was so boring that he spent most of his time in his head, dreaming up his morbid worlds. Elizabeth Dodd talks about overcoming her native shame to realize that, upon leaving it, she couldn't get this sticky world out of her blood.

Needless to say, most of the authors in this book left Ohio long ago. In the end, their backward gaze gives the book the solemnity of a dead uncle's memorial. Most of them reminisce over an Ohio that no longer exists, and many claim they could never return. It's sort of a slap in the face to a reader whose zip code still begins with a 44. But it's also pretty cool to realize how much talent has been bred by this oft-forsaken state. -- Denise Grollmus

Dancevert will be missed, and not just by 14-year-old boys.

After 20 years in Cleveland, modern-dance group Dancevert is relocating to Washington, D.C. The troupe snagged eight Ohio Arts Council excellence awards for its choreography over the past couple decades. Co-directors Susana Weingarten and Tom Evert have performed shows at pretty much every venue in town – from Playhouse Square to the Cleveland Museum of Art. We’ll miss them. We’ll also miss their innovative dances, which often featured Weingarten’s naked rack, which was pretty cool. -- Michael Gallucci

Gil Mantera’s Party Dream -- the Younsgtown new-wave revivalists signed to Akron's Audio Eagle records -- will record a fourth CD in November, at New York City’s Broadway Sound. Shane X. Conry, whose credits include a hit dance remix of Madonna’s “Nothing Fails,” will produce. Conry also worked with band on the Dream’s 2006 Bloodsongs. It's a fine disc, but you really need to see them live to get it. Click the video above for a cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams." And click here for a taste of the frontman's between-song banter.

Want to see more? The duo should be ready to release its first DVD by the end of the year. The disc will feature two live shows and three videos. The first set will feature optional audio commentary by Grand Buffet, the Pittsburgh alt-rap duo that regularly gigs with the Dream. Footage from a different show is available at www.Baeblemusic.com, a site with shows from indie bands including the Killers and Blonde Redhead. -- D.X. Ferris