Now that Cincinnati has lost the title of ''America's Most Liveable City'' to Orange County, Calif., we need a new slogan to capture national attention.
Being ''friendly'' got us 19th place. It's time to try the Rodman Method:
''Cincinnati - Crime-Free Singapore of the Midwest.''
Pittsburgh can't brag, ''Feed a meter - go to jail, Granny.''
Toronto can't claim its streets are so safe the local mounties have time to bust blind jaywalkers who get hit by trucks.
And beat this, Orange County: Corruption is so scarce here, it took a TV news crew a whole year of shadowing county employees with hidden cameras to catch them gambling. In Las Vegas.
The guys from the Hamilton County Engineer's office - Mike Lipps, Mike Vollhardt and Dale Schmale - were attending the World of Concrete conference in January. But cement-mixers don't spit out jackpots, so they ditched the meetings and hit the slots. The WCPO-TV (Channel 9) I-Team also uncovered expense vouchers for ''taxi rides'' to lunch - in the hotel lobby and across the street. The two Mikes were suspended six weeks without pay; Mr. Schmale had to retire a year early. They reimbursed the county for their trip - and all three are disgraced, ridiculed and scorned.
Cincinnati should be proud. What other city would send a TV news crew to Vegas to stalk public employees shooting craps? In Chicago you'd have to shoot the mayor for coverage like that.
Where else would this ''theft of Post-It Notes'' felony be such a big story?
Where else is everybody's business everybody's business? Only Cincinnati would send spy cameras to make folks feel right at home when they travel.
Even Fargo wouldn't stomach scenes like this:
Perky reporter Laure Quinlivan, who is about to interview Mr. Schmale: ''Remember, he doesn't know yet we were there with him in Vegas.''
As an unwitting Mr. Schmale nods yes, he attended meetings, the camera cuts to scenes of him gambling. ''Oh, no he didn't!'' Ms. Quinlivan pounces.
She shows him the telltale tape: cards, dice, ponies, smoking (gasp!), a taxi advertising a topless bar, and Elvis singing Viva Las Vegas. He recoils in horror, stuck like a bug on a pin as the camera zooms in to enlarge every bead of sweat.
''What do you have to say?'' Ms. Torquemada demands.
''I don't have a whole lot to say,'' he mumbles softly, crushed. ''You've got it on the camera, there.''
Back in the studio, the anchorman says, ''Holy cow! Excellent report.''
No doubt. It's a contest winner. But instead of making my blood boil, it made my skin crawl.
I'm no Saint Oprah. I've written my share of dog-kicker columns. (This one won't please the WCPO news director who graciously sent me a tape.)
Mediacrats with rabies are old news: ABC's PrimeTime Live is eating $5.5 million in crow for hidden-camera fraud against Food Lion supermarkets.
But watching Mr. Schmale tortured on camera is to journalism what cooking ants with a magnifying glass is to science.
''I thought it was a legit interview,'' Mr. Schmale said. ''It was an ambush. I'm not denying what we did was wrong. But what surprised me was why, and the way and how it was done.''
His family is ''very embarrassed'' and he is ''humbled.'' He doesn't know what hit him anymore than an ant on a sidewalk: He was fried by the media magnifying glass for a puff of political smoke.
The I-Team story came from a tip, and Suspect No. 1 is Hamilton County Auditor Dusty Rhodes. The media-smart ''Dustbuster'' probably spotted high travel costs in the engineer's office and tattled to the I-Team.
At the end of the report, Dusty gets his payback, crowing on camera, ''That's stealing, that's stealing.''
County Engineer Bill Brayshaw knows whodunit: ''Dusty Rhodes. All the travel orders go through Dusty ... He's getting his name out there because he has to run again and he likes playing white knight auditor. It's just Dusty being Dusty.''
Mr. Brayshaw was ''shocked and deeply embarrassed'' by the Vegas vacation, but accused the I-Team of ''Gestapo tactics and invasion of privacy.''
He said the men have worked weekends without overtime pay. After 30 years of service, Mr. Schmale was canned without a retirement party. ''Why couldn't it have been done without belittling the men and their families?'' he asked. ''Innocent people were hurt here.''
A casino official said the TV crew did not ask for permission, and violated their ban on cameras. A spokesman for the Nevada Attorney General's office said hidden cameras ''may or may not have been a violation of (state) law.''
Mr. Brayshaw said, ''The I-Team captured three public employees goofing off, not the Unabomber.''
No, it was not ''Ted Kaczynski does Vegas.'' Just three losers burned by letter-bomb journalism.
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. Call 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
