NYE Top Ten: A Most Depressing List for a Most Depressing Year

Louisville Metro's Top Ten Most Depressing Places in Town

Readers, I don't have to tell you how sucky the year 2009 was. I know that naming things--especially years, decades and eras--should be postponed until a reasonable amount of time has passed and a more clear-headed perspective (endowed with a healthy dose of context) can be applied...but don't you think we can all just go ahead and call this one? 2009 was awful, in any way you could possibly judge it for cultural, financial, political, etc etc etc purposes. I mean, maybe you can bust out some old fashioned 1990's optimism and come up with something good that happened for you personally--maybe you lost ten pounds this year, or you got married or beat your personal best record for something--but collectively? Nope, it was disappointing to say the least. The best we can do today is say "good riddance" and hope that 2010 couldn't possibly be any worse. Depressing today, aren't I?

So as a tribute to the chirpishly nostalgic new years top ten lists of times gone by, I decided to make my own--albeit with a decidedly 2009-kind of feel (read: shitty). I thought up the top ten places around town (Louisville, KY) that would make the most appropriate (i.e. depressing) venues for ringing in new years eve tonight. Dig:

10: The Louisville "Extreme Park"

This one gets points (if you want to call them that) for being a truly painful reminder of Louisville's very real inability to follow through on a pretty decent idea. Remember when Tony Hawk came to town and ESPN was here covering the prestigious X Games? Yeah, well, that was way back in the last decade (1999) when hopes were high and there was a promise of "phase two" (which consisted of a multi-million dollar indoor facility that would've really upped the ante for this place). But of course, any further plans that would've really made the park fully realize its potential (e.g. drawing more high profile events to town) have been indefinitely put on the back burner.

9: Waffle House, Preston Highway

Well, I guess it could really be Waffle House, Anytown U.S.A. right? Being on Preston Highway really sets this one off, though--like Dixie Highway (we'll get to that one later in the list), this is a major artery of depressing, industrial big box shit as far as the eye can see. I picked the Awful House simply as an easy reference point, but anything along this road really stinks of cheap booze and depression.

8: 4th Street Live

Say, how would you like to spend a minimum of $80 on a night out in an obvious tourist trap money vacuum populated with drunken, misguided bachelorette parties, teeny boppers high on Fun Dip and guffawing red necks dressed like Larry the Cable Guy? Truly truly truly awful.

7: The Unfinished West End of the "Louisville Loop"

The Louisville Loop is a pretty great idea that I've mentioned admiringly here before: it's a gigantic bike trail that will someday (maybe--probably not) encircle the entirety of the city(!). An impressive goal, but in typical Louisville style we've pretty much run out of steam over the whole idea. Portions were completed, which are very nice, but there are noticeable gaps--mostly in the West end of town. The funny thing is (and again, this is typical) there was a big ribbon cutting ceremony a couple of years ago when the downtown section was completed--the mayor came out in full spandex cycling regalia, promising more progress, police bicycle patrols, etc. Several years later no one really talks about it anymore, and it just kind of ends right in the scary part of town.

6: Corporate Campus

Back when I was delivering mail I had this route that made a few stops at this monstrosity near the world headquarters of UPS: Corporate Campus. The name alone is pretty depressing, evoking a labyrinth of cubicles and lame Dilbert cartoons. Everything is gray there, even the landscaping (and the people). It's pretty much a living (if you want to call it that) example of what you get when you cut art and music funding from the public school system.

5: The Jefferson Mall

I don't know what is up with that name because Monticello this aint. If Thomas Jefferson knew what kind of horrific 20th century architectural abominations would be named for him, he might have made some sort of amendment outlawing kiosks. The surly Hot Topic aura, clothing and skin-penetrating properties of the ever-present Cinnabon odor and gangs of pregnant teenagers are pretty depressing too.

4: Louisville Motor Speedway

I think I've already mentioned red necks. If you like them, then head on over to the Louisville Motor Speedway, located in the center of the toothless Kenny Chesney supporting district: Fairdale. If you love trucks, truck nuts, commercial country music, Dale Earnhardt paraphernalia and/or constant and repetitive entertainment (i.e. NASCAR), you will like this place. If not, then no, never go here.

3: Lake Dreamland

This is a sad story of a little resort town that was popular at the turn of the century (like, 1900) in Louisville. All the wealthy types would rent summery vacation homes and drive out to get some healthful country air and socialize. By the 1970's a dangerous motorcycle gang had moved in and burned it all down. Now it's nothing but prefab houses, dirt, and factories. And speaking of broken dreams...

2: Buechel Bypass

So, you may imagine there's a joke in that name somewhere. Buechel Bypass is actually home to a lot of ghosts from my past--the above picture depicts the deconstruction of the Bashford Manor Mall, where my mom took us to shop when we were kids, and also where I later had a hilariously bad job working for a divorced Iranian couple who owned a French themed coffee shop inside. There was an old movie theatre where my husband and I went on our first date (Rush Hour, as I recall). There was also a pretty decent Denny's nearby where me and my friends annoyed the waitresses by hanging out all night and ordering nothing but coffee. It's got a Wal-Mart and a Burlington Coat Factory there now. Sigh.

And, the NUMBER 1 worst, most depressing place to spend NYE in Louisville, Kentucky...[drum roll]...

1: The Dixie Highway Hooters!

Oh, man, is this place a depressing dump! Order up some salmonella wings, have a $5 Bud Lite and ogle your server's cesarean scar--now that's a good time! Dixie Highway, much like Preston Hwy, is a death trap of food poisoning, meth labs and Wal-Mart shoppers with distemper. Stay away, landlubber--ye be warned.

Auld Lang Syne, readers.

The River of Doubt, or: Oh, My Theodore Roosevelt Was Quite a Badass

Readers, I've been reveling in my new found ability to read whatever random book that strikes my random fancy, and this week I'm all in a froth over one called The River of Doubt by Candice Millard (a suggestion from my friend Kathy--thanks, Kathy!). It's about Teddy Roosevelt's ill-planned & near-disastrous expedition down the River of Doubt, a then-unmapped tributary of the Amazon River, on which he almost died of malaria and/or dysentery.

He was making the exploratory journey under the quasi-endorsement of the American Museum of Natural History--which reacted with horror after Teddy changed his plans just after arriving in South America. He had initially planned a relatively sedated tour which included only a minimal amount of exploration, but switched to the more dangerous, death-wish conjuring expedition at the last minute (ostensibly because he was still sulking over a thorough spanking in the 1912 presidential election, running as the Progressive Party candidate, losing to Woodrow Wilson. He was such a sore loser that he didn't even take consolation in the fact that he at least beat poor Taft...). Have you ever seen the Herzog film Aguirre, the Wrath of God? Roosevelt's plan evoked similar themes of peril, misery, madness and death on the Amazon.

The President of the museum was Henry Fairfield Osborn (the paleontologist who named the T Rex and velociraptor, for all you Jurassic Park nerds out there), and he had a shit fit over Roosevelt's new plan. My favorite Roosevelt quote so far is his response to his dithering pal Frank Chapman, who was nervously mediating between Osborn and Roosevelt:

"Tell Osborn I have already lived and enjoyed as much of life as any nine other men I know; I have had my full share, and if it is necessary for me to leave my bones in South America, I am quite ready to do so."

Snap!

All's Well That Ends Well...?

We here at MM have been on full alert since it was reported last week that the New Albany flood wall was stolen in what will surely be known as the crime of the year (in New Albany). Compare the theft to the usual criminal activity of underage boozing, meth-related hijinks and marginally-illegal fireworks smuggling across state lines and what you have is a crime that belies the otherwise Mayberry-esque township. This, readers, seems like a crime that necessitates a deliberate, organized and well-planned inside job--very different from the usual heat-of-the-moment type of post-meditated mischief the area usually breeds.

Of course, none of my theories have thus far been supported by any hard facts. Authorities claim the theft is still "under investigation," but according to today's Courier-Journal the flood wall has been recovered! A Louisville recycling plant called "Freedom Metals" had apparently accepted the 40 foot square, 1-inch thick aluminum panels that make up the wall for scrap, but recognized them as New Albany's flood wall after reading the story last week. But I guess they don't keep records of their "donors" because the thieves are still at large. Hmmm...the plot thickens! You can be sure we'll be keeping a close eye on this one, readers!

As always, anyone having information about who may have stolen the New Albany flood wall should call the NAPD tip line at 812-948-6273.

New Albany Flood Wall Stolen!

Perusing the local news sites at work on the night shift can get pretty boring, especially on Mondays during football season. After 7pm or so it gets really quiet, and I'm left pretty much to my own devices. That's why I'm always thankful to our neighbor to the North: New Albany, Indiana (AKA: "the sunny side of Louisville") for always seeming to have hilarious problems. Problems like people going out and stealing their flood wall.

According to investigators the wall is valued at around $9,000. Anyone having information as to the whereabouts of the wall should contact the New Albany Police tip line at 812-948-6273.

"We Must Have Bodies"

A passage I absolutely must share from The Devil in the White City that concerns: 1. my home state, 2. the University of Louisville, & 3. unabashed grave robbing!

"After a foiled raid on a graveyard in New Albany, Indiana, on February 24th, 1890, Dr. W. H. Wathen, head of the Kentucky Medical College, told a Tribune reporter, "The gentlemen were acting not for the Kentucky School of Medicine nor for themselves individually, but for the medical schools of Louisville to which the human subject is as necessary as breath to life." Just three weeks later the physicians of Louisville were at it again. They attempted to rob a grave at the State Asylum for the Insane in Anchorage, Kentucky, this time on the behalf of the University of Louisville. "Yes, the party was sent by us," a senior school official said. "We must have bodies, and if the State won't give them to us we must steal them. The winter classes were large and used up so many subjects that there are none for the Spring classes." He saw no need to apologize. "The Asylum Cemetery has been robbed for years," he said, "and I doubt if there is a corpse in it. I tell you we must have bodies. You cannot make doctors without them, and the public must understand it. If we can't get them from any other way we will arm the students with Winchester rifles and send them to protect the body-snatchers on their raids."

(Larson, 150)

Wow! I wonder if today's up-and-coming young U of L med students are in some way touched by this plucky, unapologetically brazen "yeah, so what?" attitude from a century ago. Maybe each student, upon passing the enrollment exam for entrance into the medical school, receives a ceremonial Winchester rifle to keep in their dormitory. The students accept this token with baffled excitement, wondering at the purpose of such an offering. Dismissing it as an eccentricity (perhaps a cryptic sort of reminder of the Hippocratic Oath?), they blow it off as something symbolic, whose meaning has been lost to antiquity, never guessing that they are functional: ready for service when the State's supply of medical cadavers dry up.

The Devil in the White City

Readers, I am very happy to report to you that my graduate school toilings in library school at the distinguished University of Kentucky are now at an end. I sat for my nerve-shattering comprehensive exam in November and just last week received word that I passed ("with distinction," said the letter) the final examination for the Master's Degree in Library and Information Science. Hurrah!

So what does this mean for you, the loyal readership of the Missiles of Mercy? Well, it means I now have much more time to devote to pleasure reading: an activity that has shamefully been pushed to the wayside since the beginning of the Fall semester to make way for the dry, dense foliage that is LIS literature. And of course, in the spirit of our semi-regular summer reading 2009 rap sessions, I will be reporting on the various singularities and curios that I find especially reminiscent of our mission statement here at MM.

Case in point: I began reading Erik Larson's the Devil in the White City this weekend, and am currently 150 pages in. It's one of those non-fiction-written-as-fiction types of books that have began cropping up in the last decade or so (see also: Swanson's novelized narrative Manhunt, about the search for John Wilkes Booth and the Lincoln assassination conspirators. It is excellent), and I have to say i'ts a trend I can certainly get behind. They are generally fun to read, packaging historically accurate information into a guess-what-happens-next kind of layout--this lends a kind of tension to the narrative that is lacking in your everyday biography or history book.

The story is, like so many about America at the end of the 19 century, pretty incredible. It concerns the conception, construction and operation of the Chicago World's Fair--including the architects who designed Chicago's "White City" (Daniel Hudson Burnham! Frederick Law Olmstead! Louis Sullivan!) and a handsome young sociopath who became America's first serial killer. Buffalo Bill Cody, Thomas Edison and Archduke Ferdinand also make appearances in the story(!) and you get to hear all about the grit & shit that accompanied the Gilded Age. Oh, Boy!

I am speeding through The Devil so I can start my next awesome non-fic pleasure cruise: Candace Miller's The River of Doubt, which is all about Theodore Roosevelt's crazy adventures exploring an unmapped tributary of the Amazon! You heard it here first! (Maybe!)

LOL Romance Novel Covers

Wow, in the course of doing some "research" (i.e. random internet surfing) I stumbled, Google image search style, onto a delightful phenomenon in the vein of the immortal LOL Cats: Photoshopped romance novel covers! Wow! It must be a pretty popular thing, because they actually made it difficult to find original, unaltered covers...

I will post a few of my favorites below:

Talking to Married Guys

I've noticed recently that some--maybe most--married men act sorta strange when a lady who is unknown to them tries to engage them in conversation. I've noticed this mainly in the course of my job at the local public library. Generally they'll be courteous, but there's something about the interaction that says "I can't talk to you! Lookit this ring!"

It almost comes off as insulting, but most of the time the guy is so obviously struggling to maintain some balance between stand-offish aloofness and polite discourse (and somehow failing on both accounts) that it actually has the opposite effect: I tend to want to talk to them more. I suspect it is this sort of thing that attracts women to married men in the first place--this kind of behavior could easily be perceived as adorable and nonthreatening (two things that girls like, btw, gentlemen).You've heard the old complaint: once a dude gets married he suddenly feels like women are hitting on him, women who would not have given him the time of day when he was single! My husband tells me stories all the time about women brazenly batting their eyes at him, willfully disregarding his fully-visible wedding ring. Well, readers, I think I may have busted this one wide open.

Case in point: I helped a guy find a book the other day. He was probably 35-40-ish, sensibly dressed, with a 6 or 7-ish little girl in tow (another cliche female turn on: fathering skills on display). The book I got for him was Manhunt by James L. Swanson. Anyone who kept up with my summer read list this year knows I was completely ga-ga for this novelized non-fiction narrative about the 12 day chase for Abraham Lincoln's assassin. So of course I was in "sell" mode to this guy--I really wanted him to read it! I should note that most people I talk to want to read Danielle Steel or the new Oprah hotcake--nobody wants me to flex my readers' advisory muscles in the direction of Lincoln lore, they just want me to show them to the mystery-solving cat novels (yes, mystery-solving cat novels. it's a horrifying genre all its own). So I was very insistent about him checking out this book, making not less than 3 statements about it's "readability."

This seemed to freak him out, and from then on he communicated to me exclusively through comments to his daughter. "Daddy would like to read this, don't you think?" he asked her desperately. "Daddy will check out the book now," "Daddy can't find his library card, do you think he can use his drivers license?" Girl: "Ask if they have princess books!" She did not appreciate the dramady unfolding in front of her.