Kentucky

Somehow, no matter how many borders I cross I keep expecting the landscape to change immediately after the sign announcing my arrival in a a state with new liquor laws. So far, the only major cross border changes I've observed are the asphalt and state trooper car colors. Taking back roads I never even saw a Welcome to Kentucky sign.

 The roads slowly got broader and straighter as I exited the diminishing hills of Kentucky's eastern expanse, and the horse population slowly increased, but until I got on the interstate it was all more dense fall foliage and little traffic.

 Not that I'm complaining. I did see a couple of Pontiacs, but they were all four doors and white.

 Toward the middle of a fairly short day of cruising with the throttle locked open I arrived in Louisville. The town is a typical middle American metropolis in a limbo state somewhere between used to be someplace and might be someplace, again, if the economy ever gives it the chance. The Louisville Slugger field is right smack in the middle of downtown, yet has a huge parking lot and massive areas of space. And this is for their minor league team!


I didn't get any shots of it, but Louisville is also the home of the KFC Yum! Center. It's a sports complex I assume gets utilized by many different companies for various events, but it was built primarily to provide a state-of-the-art playing facility for the university basketball team. How does this happen? Just a few weeks ago the NCAA threatened to fine Clemson University for receiving "special treatment" because our camera crew followed their football players along the pre-game "Tiger Walk" through the parking lot and into their stadium. Yet KFC is somehow allowed to build and sponsor a whole facility for a college team. It's a good thing I don't care about college athletics or I might be annoyed.


You can't see it, but just under that bridge is a waterfall (falling away from this viewing angle). Past that is a small island where the actual town was founded by some guy named Clark. You'd think it'd be called Clarkville, or maybe even Lewisville since we're talking about THAT Clark and his family, but I guess there was still some advantage to kissing some royal behind at the time.

Turning to the right from the water view revealed the source of the calliope-esque sound echoing among the sill buildings of downtown Louisville.

I visited Louisville to see my old friend, Sauron. He and his family have been there for the last decade, but he had never been to the Brown Hotel to have the meal (it's billed as a sandwich) called a Hot Brown. It's sort of the locomoco of L-town. Take some egg bread, cover it with a Jewish deli sized pile of sliced roast turkey, smother THAT in a parmesan cheese based gravy, then top it with some bacon and broil the whole mess until it's bubbling. It's both disgusting and delicious, and no, I didn't finish the whole thing.


Wandering the city and talking with a former Angeleno through a town that's not Detroit but could easily go that direction is confirming a suspicion of mine. It's not profound, and it's nothing new, but seeing this country from the ground is cementing it as part of my psyche. No matter where you go there is misery, despair, trouble, angst, and all the difficulties that come with life--but there is also contentment, joy, comfort, peace and satisfaction. I give a lot of lip service to making the choice of one over the other, yet falling into the former often seems the path of least resistance. The people I know and the people I've met so far all seem as guilty as I of coloring their own perspective, but the happier ones all choose far more often to see what is working for them as the tint to their visors.

Speaking of miserable places with happy people--next stop, Chicago!