Powers of invisibility

Through the magic of backdating, I'm posting on Friday after my day trip to the greater Cincinnati area. In truth, I didn't get home until nearly 1:30 a.m., but this would have been my Friday entry if I'd been able to write it then. I'm too tired to blog about everything I'd like to comment on, so in an effort to get this done faster, I'll keep this strictly to the knitting part.

I arrived in Newport, Kentucky almost four hours before the doors opened at the concert venue. That's how I planned it. I wanted to get there without the stress of Friday rush hour traffic, which I figured would be more intense with a Reds game and a citywide music festival taking place. I knew I could get there plenty in advance and use the spare time to knit.

I walked around Newport on the Levee, basically a smaller riverfront version of Columbus' Easton Town Center, before settling in at the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble. For an hour or so I knitted with a nice window view of the river and Cincinnati's skyline.

I took a break and wandered around before setting up shop on a bench in front of the Newport Aquarium. This was a busy area. I saw a lot of people who were going to the Reds-Cubs game. (Many take advantage of cheaper parking on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River and walk to Cincinnati via the bridge.) While I did catch one quizzical stare and might have heard an epithet hurled my direction--I know what it sounded like--I was basically unseen.

It's funny that my initial fear about knitting in public was other people taking notice of what I was doing and ridiculing me. If experience is any indicator, knitting in public turns me invisible. Unless another knitter spots me, I am left alone completely. I was almost ready to pack up when a woman commented that she was trying to teach her niece to knit. I didn't hear a peep from anyone else, although as mentioned above, there was one woman who may have called me a name. (I'm fairly certain I know what I heard, but I'm going to give the benefit of the doubt.)

Obviously many people saw me knitting, but as far as they were concerned, I wasn't there. The invisible aftereffects from knitting must be to blame for the two cars that nearly ran me down when I tried to cross the street. I'm not exaggerating for effect. I was stunned that both cars turning left didn't slow down until the last second as they approached me. And yes, I muttered something unprintable.

Photos and more on Saturday...