52. March already?

Time marches on. Nineteen days have passed since we had an update.

The march of the blog has taken it to screens in 22 states plus the District of Columbia. It's also been visited, if only for a one-page viewing, in 17 countries other than the US of A. During the last week alone, viewers in Chandler, Arizona; Bel Air, Maryland; Fresh Meadows, New York; and Milwaukee, Wisconsin have all paid a visit to the Left Bank of the Ohio River at Milepost 606. Also the last week has brought international viewing in both Brussels, Belgium and Alur Gejah, Malaysia.

I keep track of these things for two reasons. The first is curiosity. It is comforting to know that someone is reading, even if only by accident. We've had nine different hits from places in China, more than any other foreign country. I'm told it is because of the word "noble" as it is tranliterated into certain Chinese dialects. The United Kingdom is next, but isn't close to the nine hits from the Orient.

The other reason I keep track is the sense of travel one gets from reading. I've been an avid reader all my life. Reading allows one to visit places all over the planet, getting to know people and ideas, and finding in those things both the likenesses and differences all of us have in inhabiting the same small orb in the cosmos. Whether you are reading newspapers, church bulletins, airplane schedules, the Congressional Record, or novels (which I don't, except those by Gore Vidal, James Michener, or ones having to do with the "matter of Arthur"), the places and people mentioned therein are often places that one will never get to in real life, and thus reading affords the experience of travel and knowledge, at a considerably cheaper cost than the real thing.

Last week, in preparation for a visit to Louisville by United States Senator Barak Obama, I purchased a new copy of his book The Audacity of Hope, which I've since completed. Thus, when he spoke, I had a better sense of who he was based on where he had been. When I was at the bookstore (Borders, downtown at 4th and Liberty streets), I saw Terry McAuliffe's book What a Party, but my mission was only to get the Obama volume. So I passed it up for the moment. Economically, it turns out, that was a good move.

Last night I attended a small gathering of folks at the home of Kentucky Democratic Party Chair Jerry Lundergan and his wife Charlotte, on the northside of Lexington, in an enclave off the east side of the Old Paris Pike (N. Limestone Street in town) for a visit with Mr. McAuliffe, the former Chair of the National Democratic Party, a close confidant of the Clintons as well as former President Jimmy Carter, Congressman Dick Gephardt, and currently a leader of the Clinton for President campaign. He was in Lexington for a book signing. As I understand, he had arranged this party in between separate book signings. There were about 35 people in attendance, including five members of the legislature and two former governors (one of whom is also counted among the aforementioned legislators), and one other person who had ran for governor but lost in the 1979 primary to the one of two who were there. To carry the matter further, each of the two governors present had each in the same year (1987) lost another race for the same position to the late Wallace Wilkinson. Other political leaders and a few hacks like me were also there to enjoy the catered food, the speech, and the conversation. As a gift, the Lundergans gave everyone a copy of McAuliffe's book, which, after standing in a short line, the author with pen in hand, sat at a dining room table and entered his name and a personal message to each of us in attendance. Pretty cool. (For the record, as I have written before, I am supportive of Hillary Clinton for president, and upon the occassion of her nomination, I am hopeful she will choose as a running mate Barak Obama).

Another highlight for me was the piano in one of the side parlors in the home of the hosts. There it was, bedecked with about twelve candlesticks, some music sitting on the front, cover open, and keys, alas, unattended. It is a habit of mine not to pass up unattended pianos. I play a little and try to play each one I see. I've played in hotels (most recently the new Marriott at 3rd and Jefferson), both the old and new Governor's Mansions in Kentucky, the basement of the Hillebrand Senior Citizen House, Lacey and Barbara Smith's condo on W. Main Street, in the Convention Center in Maysville, atop Kirwan Tower on the UK campus, in the music rooms at U of L and Bellarmine, and last spring in the (new) Capital on a landing in front of the House of Representatives at the Governor's Derby Breakfast. On many of those occasions, I do not ask permission, figuring that I could play a little and explain later for my impudence. On other occasions, I do ask, which is the appropriate thing to do. My late friend Scott Pierce had an antique square piano in his "South Wing" gathering room. I always asked before playing, and while he always said yes, I always knew he would have rather have said no, but he was a delightful host given to making sure his guests were pleased upon visits to his home. Two nights ago, while visiting with a friend at the Samuel Culbertson Mansion on S. Third Street, I asked the host there if I could play the piano in the front left parlor. I had been to the Mansion in 2004 for a community meeting and had eyed the piano there, but time did not then afford me the opportunity to play. "Not only that one," he replied, "but the upstairs one as well." And I did. And so last night, in addition to the catered food (which was excellent) and drinks, and a pitch by McAuliffe for both his book and his boss, Hillary, the 35 or so guests were accorded a few minutes of Jeff at the ivories.

It was a delightful evening.