Sunday, April 22, 2012

732. An eastward loop to Beech Ridge and back

A very good day for a road trip. Michael and I went southeast first to Mount Washington, then east to Taylorsville, stopping briefly at the Valley Cemetery. From there northeast through Mount Eden to an art show and book signing at the Moonlite Ridge Farm in southeastern Shelby County. Northward to and through Waddy for a history lesson on street names around Graefenburg and thence north to Beech Ridge Cemetery and the Peters/Perkins/Hockensmith cemetery on the Engstler farm literally on Beech Ridge and up the hill from Hatton. Turning back towards home along the Benson Pike, we trekked past Guist Creek Lake and into Shelbyville where we stopped at the funeral home owned by my cousin, Steve Collins. A conversation of politics, post offices, and the past covered an hour's time, before (finally) making our way back to Jefferson County. A nice little vacation.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

730. Easter + 50 = Pentecost

My previous Sunday night plans fell through since a friend hasn't yet returned from the Republic of Texas. Maybe I'll do nothing. I almost did nothing last night, waiting for an expected call to do something which never came. My Texas friend did, at least, text to say not tonight. And there's always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I do feel considerably better today than I have the last few days. And I've seen, with the exceptions of a niece, uncle, and two aunts, the entirety of my Noble relations in the last six hours. That doesn't happen a lot. It has been a Happy Easter. The next "religious" festival is Pentecost, in fifty days. It is one of my favorites with the some of the most mystical words in Scripture telling the story, found in the first six verses of the second chapter of the Book of Acts. But, I am getting ahead of myself. Have a good night.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

729. Briefly, the media on the lam(b) here at home

This from a Facebook entry of Curtis Morrison, a fellow blogger at and who I should point out is a friend of mine who I'm not supporting in his race for the state senate, recently offered the following statement in a status update:

"I accidentally just heard Bill Lamb share his point of view on Trayvon Martin. If my TV is on fire in the street in the new few minutes, it has nothing to do with basketball."

The reference to fiery TVs is an allusion to the activities eighty-eight miles up the road in response to the home team winning the 2012 National Collegiate Athletics Association Basketball Championship. There is also the reference to the unfortunate and unanswered death of Trayvon Martin, a 17 year old from Florida, shot and killed by a local vigilante for a block watch group. And there is the reference to Bill Lamb, the general manager of WDRB-TV, a local television station, Channel 41 for us oldtimers who remember dials on the TV set to change the station, and which at one time was affiliated with the FOX network, and which used to start its day in the late afternoon with a clown named Presto. But, I digress.

Today's blog entry is my response to Curt's status update. Here it is:

Y'all should have all thrown your TVs out years ago even without Bill Lamb. But he helps my argument, no doubt. Being a Libra, though, I must offer that "on the other hand" argument. I've seen Mr. Lamb a few times and never agreed with him. But his editorials and 89.3 WFPL Louisville's news staff, along with Joe Sonka from LEO is about all that is left of the local news and editorial scene. The C-J is, like most larger newspapers, (not) enjoying a long slow death. Other local media offer talk shows with ideologues but little content. At least WDRB and Mr. Lamb are offering us something to think about, even if we constantly disagree. Louisville is no longer the news-town it was once. While most everyone who was around for the '37 flood is gone or going, there is little question that the C-J, WHAS, and WAVE played crucial roles in the lives of Louisvillians at that most unfortunate time. I'm old enough to remember Dick Gilbert in "Skywatch84" covering the tornado 38 years ago today. News outlets no longer want or seem to need to fill that role. So again, in that respect, there is something to be said for Mr. Lamb and his ill-reasoned editorials. And thanks be to God for WFPL and LEO.


Monday, April 2, 2012

728. Morning thoughts - April

I woke up this morning to 64 degrees and the remnants of a dream from somewhere through the night of my baptism, 37 years ago this month, at the Thixton Lane Baptist Church, which, oddly enough, wasn't on Thixton Lane but was instead on Cedar Creek Road in very rural southern Jefferson County on the Bullitt County line. I haven't been there in 35 years and the building is no more. That was a pleasant time.

My brother and I had attended the church with our neighbors, the Shumate family. Glen "Butch" Shumate was a dear friend. The three of us baptised that April. Butch's parents are long since gone and I haven't seen him since 2004.

The building where we were baptised is also gone, replaced by a newer, bigger structure on the same property about a block away, and now actually facing Thixton Lane. There was once a ballfield on that corner where I played some as a young teenager. The vicinity still retains a bit of the ruralness which was presented well 37 years ago, but new homes and subdivisions are slowly filling up the once sparse landscape.

The Archives at Milepost 606


Louisville, Kentucky, United States
Never married, liberal Democrat, born in 1960, opinionated but generally pleasant, member of the Episcopal Church. Graduate of Prestonia Elementary, Durrett High, and Spalding University; the first two now-closed Jefferson County Public Schools, the latter a very small liberal arts college in downtown Louisville affiliated with the Roman Catholic Sisters of Charity of Nazareth. My vocation and avocation is politics. My favorite pastime is driving the backroads of Kentucky and southern Indiana, visiting small towns, political hangouts, courthouses, churches, and cemeteries. You are welcome to ride with me sometime.