Optometrists Vs. Ophthalmologists: which ones are real doctors?

Or: which ones do you want pointing lasers into your eyeballs?

Well, if you live in Kentucky then don't worry about knowing the difference, 'cause now you can get the same surgical eye procedures from either/or:

"Optometrists are licensed to conduct eye examinations, prescribe glasses and contact lenses and diagnose and treat various eye conditions and diseases. SB 110 would allow them to perform certain procedures, including a laser procedure to correct problems that sometimes occur after cataract surgery."

(Courier-Journal, Feb 11, 2011)

So, SB 110 sailed through the usual chutes & ladders of KY legislature back in February to emerge victorious and curiously unquestioned by almost everyone involved. It took only 4 days--from when it was proposed to when it passed into law with a 33-3 vote.

Looks like optometrists have been greasing somebody's palms, amiright? According to the C-J:

"Campaign contribution records on the Kentucky Registry of Election Finance's Website show that optometrists gave about $264,000 in campaign donations in 2010 alone -- most of that to candidates for the legislature. And the group's political action committee, the Optometric PAC, gave another $132,700"

Uh-huh. It all makes you very wary, doesn't it? A group of people who where not really trained to do surgery (on your eyes!), but who so desperately want to cut on your peepers (with lasers!) that they'll make it rain on whoever to get their way. Yikes. (Yeah, yeah, I know: this very thing happens all the time. But, shit KY: do you have to make it look so obvious? Howsabout a little deliberation? For decorum's sake?)

But the real question that should be on everybody's mind is "what does KY's own fake ophthalmologist think about all these wanna-be eye surgeon upstarts?" Well, Randy hasn't been very vocal about this one, curiously--except via loathsome good old boy cronies who like to name drop:

"Senate President David Williams, R-Burkesville, said afterward that some ophthalmologists who oppose the bill spoke to him this week about their concerns -- and that one of them was U.S. Sen. Rand Paul of Bowling Green.

Because of the concerns, a committee meeting was held Friday morning at which ophthalmologists said the bill would give optometrists the authority to perform procedures beyond their training.

Williams emphasized that the bill passed with only three no votes. [Guess a few people didn't get invited out to the club the night they were handing out buckets o' money]

"There was no rush. There was support. Look at the level of support out there. We pass bills when there's the support," he said. [Yeah, hey, lookit the support! Gosh, actually, you know, I'm having trouble seeing anything--where can a girl get a good eye-lasering around here? Everybody's licensed now, right?]

Williams described his conversation with Paul as "fine." He said he "talked to Sen. Paul frequently about a lot of things, and he and I have talked about this bill. ... Obviously he was not supportive of this bill."

So, big surprise: David Williams (who is running for governor, BTW) wants to make it clear that he and his good pal "Dr." Paul are always shooting the shit "about a lot of things." But why do you think Randy is really against SB 110? My theory is that he wants to keep all the power of lasers to himself! Sure, I mean how else can he truly capitalize on his hushed-up gamma radiation-induced super power if every commoner with an associates degree can wield them?

"Look into my eyes, David Williams!"

So is this a victory for KY optometrists? Maybe, but watch your backs, fellas! "Dr." Lazer Eyes might be coming by to fix your cataracts...permanently!

KY: The Land of Castles & Coincidence

No matter how many times it happens to me, I can never quite get used to the idea that, in the state of Kentucky, everyone you ever meet and every experience you ever have will always (always always) find a way to resurface. In KY land everyone is connected to everyone and everything else by shockingly few degrees of association, like the Kevin Bacon game but with fewer levels of separation (like, usually 3 or 4 rather than 7). It's the place where, upon meeting a new person, the all-important question of where you went to high school will come up, and from there it's pretty easy to figure out how much you already really know that person (like you probably already know several of their friends, their 10th grade algebra teacher, their dentist, their mom and you frequent the same dive bar). Not that it's Mayberry, necessarily, but it has that same brand of everybody-knows-everybody-else-via-vicarious-relations kind of air--but it can be spookier than that sometimes:

Like the thing that set me off writing about this in the first place: I was browsing a recent Around the States in 90 Days post regarding an anonymous reader who had suggested he check out "the highway in Lexington through Kentucky." This unknown person mentions the scenic beauty of the area (I assume they are talking about the Bert T. Combs Mountain Parkway that begins near Lexington on I-64; because seriously? I-64 is pretty heinous), but they also say this:

"There is also a castle there I saw in the night that looked like something I would want to check out"

!! A castle? Near Lexington?? That is visible from the highway??? Say what, Willis???? Seriously, that sounds like something I would want to check out, anonymous poster!

So a quick Googling found the culprit (see above picture), and wow, there it is: an actual castle just off the mainline into Lexington. Crazy. But what really freaked me out was that the first website that I happened to find that mentions the mysterious castle in question, a Blogspot called Unusual Kentucky, is authored by JSH, a long-ago cohort of mine from Louisville! We rented studio space from the same 100-year-old woman who lived (and perhaps still lives) behind a former meat-packing plant (turned art space) near downtown (which is a whole 'nother wacky story in itself). So yet another crazy KY associate I never thought to hear about/from again pops up when least expected, a coincidence that connects us (in one level of separation, Bacon fans!) to a mysterious and hitherto-unknown Lexington Land castle. You could argue the internet does this for everyone now, sure, but would it have been related to ghostly former art cohort relationships and mysterious nighttime highway castles in the middle of thoroughbred country? Probably not.

Ski Soda, Regional Un-Cola Darling

It's become kind of an historic past time here at MM HQ to document the vestiges of (what must surely be) a dying breed: the regional soda pop (or, to use our brand-blind catch-all KY term, "coke"). So when I read a conversation regarding regional beverage "Ski" on my brother's Facebook page--which referred to it as a Kentucky-made drink--I was on alert. I'd never heard of this "Ski soda," the only other KY native brand of soft drink to my knowledge being the great and infamous Ale8One (the name referring to the drink's dangerously high caffeine content. And yes, take my word for it, down 2 or 3 of these and it will, indeed, be "a late one" for you).

Well, according to the FAQ page on Ski's official website:

Where did Ski originate?
Despite popular beliefs, Ski was created in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Many loyal Ski enthusiasts believe that the drink was created in Breese, Illinois or Greensburg, Kentucky, but these are simply locations of two long time Ski bottlers in historic Ski areas.

So, close, but no cigar--although having a bottling plant here within our borders is still noteworthy. It's charming to think these obscure regional beverages have "loyal enthusiasts," isn't it? In the modern geek era, everybody's an unabashedly huge fan of something, I guess.

So, I'm going to have to take my investigation further by actually tracking down some Ski. It sounds pretty good, actually; according to its Wikipedia page:

Ski is an orange and lemon flavored soft drink using actual orange and lemon concentrates manufactured by the Double Cola Company. Some have likened Ski’s unique citrus flavor to Mountain Dew, Mello Yello, Vault, or Squirt. One 12 oz. can of ski contains 69 mg of caffeine, for comparison, a can of Mountain Dew contains 54 mg.

Due to usage of real orange juice, and lemon concentrates, the Double Cola Company claims that Ski is one of the only all-natural sodas.^[1]

Okay, so a more natural Mountain Dew type of option--I could see that mixing really well into a refreshing summer rum cocktail of some sort (funny how, once you reach adulthood, you think of soft drinks in terms of how well they'd work as a hard drink. Well, I do anyway). Orange and lemon is pretty interesting--a nice departure from the usual lemon-lime combo--and holy moly: 69 mgs of caffeine! That would pack a wallop. Maybe I can convince Schreck's to order me a case...

KY State Fair Offers New Level of Dietary Mayhem

So you may have already heard about the Krispy Kreme cheeseburger making the rounds at state fairs across the country this summer. Our very own KY state fair was certainly no exception--we've been reading about this type 2 monstrosity in the local paper for a couple weeks now.

This shouldn't be totally surprising, there's a long-standing tradition of gastronomic oddities associated with the American state fair. It seems like there is always some sort of outrageously ill-conceived novelty snack invented every decade or so that specifically attempts to cash in on the state fair diabetes fervor. Consider: elephant ears/funnel cakes, corn dogs, cotton candy, Dippin' Dots (AKA "The Ice Cream of the Future"), steak-on-a-stick, etc. Obesity is the mother of invention, I guess.

But the Krispy Kreme cheeseburger does seem to be taking things a little far, doesn't it? It lacks nuance of any kind & seems so over-the-top in such a obvious way--I find it a little insulting in it's lack of subtlety--too many elements showcased into one package (Fried dough! Sugary glaze! Cheese! Bacon! Uh, mayo?), but I suppose that would be the point, right? And it is kind of a perfect food item metaphor: it symbolizes the current brand of don't-tread-on-me, in-yer-face, self-destructive libertarianism that perfectly reflects the political feelings of those who are most likely to consume it: "What? You socialist Obamacare commies are worried about my health? Well, F-you! I'll really give you something to worry about...nom-nom-nom...!"

(Due props to that guy in the video for the slammin' 'stache, tho)

Bon Apetit, Kentucky!

Rand Paul: Crazier than Jim Bunning?

Readers, I've probably been a little lax lately in keeping you up to date with the latest Ky political wranglings. It's likely a combination of the shitty weather, general summer laziness, and the crushing sense of impending doom that is the inevitability of what will surely be known to history as the Great Hollerin' Hillbilly Takeover of 2010. I'm talking, of course, about Ky's 2010 Senate race.

So the issue at hand: Rand Paul. He's apparently a big deal--something about his household name of a daddy and a beverage-related get-together. It's been rather messy from the get-go. "Messy" in that, like, the minute he won the primary election he dissed the civil rights movement on national television. He says it's not like he's a racist, mind you--not Dr. Paul, he hates bigotry, lots of black friends, you understand--it's just that, you know, private business owners should get to decide if they'd like to be racists themselves, without all those pesky federal anti-discrimination laws getting in the way.

Bottom line: is he a contender to win this thing? Unfortunately, it looks like Paul is pretty much unstoppable; Louisville may be a bunch of drum circling hippies (comparatively), but the rest of KY is solidly gun-toting and beverage get-togethering. So the real question isn't really "Will Rand Paul get elected?" It's more like "Will Rand Paul be an acceptably bonkers successor to the throne of crazy built by Jim Bunning?" Readers, I wasn't so sure...until I read yesterday's Courier-Journal. Check out this headline:

"Paul ponders legal options after abduction allegation" (!!)

You see, in his wackier college days, Rand Paul (allegedly) kid-napped a female classmate, "tried to make her smoke marijuana and then forced her to bow down and praise a fictional god" !!! Apparently Paul was in some dumbass "secret society" while he was enrolled at Baylor University, and he and a buddy abducted a girl from the swim team, tried to get her to take a bong hit (which would've made all of this make a lot more sense to her), then, as his alleged abductee recently told GQ Magazine, demanded that she give praise to something (someone?) called the "Aqua Buddha":

“They told me their god was ‘Aqua Buddha' and that I needed to bow down and worship him,” she told the magazine. “They blindfolded me and made me bow down to ‘Aqua Buddha' in the creek. I had to say, ‘I worship you Aqua Buddha, I worship you.' At Baylor, there were people actively going around trying to save you and we had to go to chapel, so worshiping idols was a big no-no.”

Wow, 1983...it was a hell of a year I guess (although, as an "active member of Young Conservatives of Texas" shouldn't he have been worshiping Reagan by 1983?).

I wish I could say that this--or any of his other gaffes and rants--would make a difference to the (very) likely outcome I foresee for November. But honestly? He could bite the head off Bristol Palin's baby on Fox News and he'd still crush Jack Conway this Fall.

So to answer my own question: time will tell--but like my Magic 8 Ball always seemed to say, all signs point to "yes".

So everybody who's from KY will know what I'm talking about when I say "Hurrah" for House Bill 251, aka, the "stray horse bill."

Finally! Now there's policy in place for dealing with all these damn stray horses. What? You say you don't have that problem where you're from? Well, welcome to KY, stranger, where you can't go more than a block or two without stumbling over a flaxen-coated Derby contender. Pffsch! Thoroughbreds! Big deal--in my state they're a dime a dozen, and they eat all your grass and shit on your front porch. "Majestic" indeed. There's a reason Kentucky isn't the tourist mecca that Florida or Nevada is (two words: horse flatulence). Now that our streets will soon be equine-free I think we can expect cleaner living, a dramatic drop-off in stampede-related property damage, and a generally more hygienic environment in which to pluck our banjos in our bare feet while courting our first cousins. Yee-haw! *shoots pistols in air*

Filibustin' a Move with Crazy Jimmy B

Well, readers, you may have noticed that one of KY's original good ole boys has been in the news rather prominently (again) as of late--and you know that's never a good thing for KY. Well, this time it's really not a good thing for the huge numbers of unemployed: everyone's "favorite" cantankerous governmental nap-taker, Jim Bunning, has been a lot more active than usual in his job this past week: he's been the lone Senator holding up the legislation that would extend jobless benefits (i.e. unemployment and health insurance) to roughly one million currently out-of-work Americans. Way to take a stand, there, Jimmy boy--right onto the backs of your constituents (KY's unemployment rate is currently one of the nation's highest--10.7%), and during the worst economic crises since the Great Depression, no less.

You may remember the salad days of Jim Bunning insanity fun--back in the years and months before he "decided to retire" (read: before he was pressured by the entire GOP to bail on reelection due to a torrent of gaffes and truly offensive outbursts). You could pretty much count on Jimmy to make the news bi-weekly--whether it was dissing Mitch McConnell or publicly celebrating Ruth Bader Ginsburg's cancer diagnosis or cussing out reporters during a conference call, you knew that if Jimmy had shown up somewhere and said something, whatever it was would be derogatory, petulant, sexist, rude, profane, and/or outlandish. The local newspaper had even suggested (bluntly, and not in jest) that he was getting dementia--they ran an interview last summer with a mental health specialist who used Jimmy's behavior to diagnose a possible loss of brain function(!).

So anyway--here we are, every single one of the other Senators voting to extend unemployment except Jim. Jim who, suddenly, feels like taking a stand rather than his usual MO: i.e. stare in jaded silence, perhaps blurt some shitty remark and then, later, a nap. Or maybe just stay home and skip the whole ordeal. But now we meet principled Jimmy, Mr. Fiscal Responsibility. But don't be fooled, it's still the same old Crazy Jimmy B: while his fellow Senators tried to change his mind he complained about missing a UofK basketball game; when Sen. Jeff Merkely (D-OR) asked him to stand down Jimmy replied "tough shit!"; and when reporters asked him for an interview he casually flipped the bird to one of the producers (according to ABC News)(!).

Of course, these days Jimmy can afford to be a self righteous finger-wagger at our expense: he's not running for reelection next year, so he doesn't really need to worry about the fallout (although, I'm not sure he ever really worried about it before, either). So maybe he figures that by using his final months in office to be an anti-middle class obstructionist A-hole he can cash-in on a little of that tea bagging fever. Maybe Fox News will even make him their newest correspondent...he would fit right in, maybe even make some of their other sideshow attractions seem sane and well-balanced in comparison (note to Glenn Beck: it's gonna take a mighty river of tears to compete with the cluster bomb of crazy that is Jim Bunning, so start hydrating now).

And it's not just unemployment benefits that will be affected: 2,000 federal workers will be furloughed, reimbursements to states for transportation projects will be halted (including two bridge replacement projects in Kentucky), a provision expired that would have stopped a 21% cut in Medicare reimbursements to doctors, and loan programs for small businesses are now on hold. Whew! That's a whole lotta work for an old guy like Jimmy--I'm sure it was enough to really tucker the poor guy out. Let's hope all the angry phone calls and bomb threats that his Kentucky office has been receiving this week hasn't kept him from catching his z's.

The Waning Days of Senator Jim Bunning

The news that Senator Jim Bunning (R-Ky) will be retiring after this term has put a serious dent in the frequency of our Crazy Jimmy B related postings here at MM. The truth is, there hasn't really been much to report on: he's been flying pretty much under the radar, laying low since the retirement announcement this summer. Very low. Like, he has apparently stopped showing up altogether. Remember the Christmas Eve vote on health care reform? Yeah, well, Jimmy was the only member of the U.S. Senate to flake out--everybody else seemed to think this whole health care thing is, like, a big deal or something, so they showed up for the vote. But not our Jimmy--his spokesman said it was because he had a "prior family commitment." Uh, huh. Apparently grandma Bunning's Christmas eggnog was more important than showing up to do his job. Or who knows, maybe he had a nap scheduled.

& speaking of naps: Joseph Gerth reported today on the state of relations between Jim-Bunning-replacement-hopeful Trey Grayson and the Republican Good Ol' Boy Dynamic Duo (McConnell/Bunning). Grayson's goofy response was priceless: "I've talked with them...they've been really busy with health care." Yeah, Trey: "really busy." Sure. Really busy not showing up to vote on it? Really busy falling asleep during Senate Finance Committee considerations?

Trey tried to make Bunning look like, well, something other than a total taxpayer-mocking dick. He started off by stating a fact: "He [Bunning] is on the finance committee." Yes, good. Keep going, Trey: "The Senate Finance Committee met from...was it October when they started?" (Nope--September) "...I know he fell asleep in one, but he was in those meetings and really engaged." Um ,"really engaged"? Dude, he was napping!

Can't wait til the Grayson for U.S. Senate teevee ads start airing.

Ask Your Physician if Louisville is Right for You

Some of you may recall an earlier post of mine about my hometown's theme song, Look What We Can Do, Louisville by Hazel Miller. That was part of a civic pride/local tourism campaign way back in 1982, presumably going by the title name (I'm not entirely sure, I was like 2 years old at the time and not yet aware of my love for local media campaigns). Anyway, our newest re-branding is all about Louisville's potential--which seems awfully unspecific--and is captured in the open-for-interpretation moniker: "Possibility City". What I love about our local branding efforts is our apparent inability to really pin down a meaning for our slogans. I mean, Possibility City sounds positive at first, but it doesn't really specify--one assumes that it would also be possible to have a terrible time here, or have just about anything happen to you, good or bad. Get food poisoning and be falsely imprisoned in Louisville? Well, it's possible...

This new campaign just reminds me of our old license plates, which were pretty much universally reviled: they had a cheery, smiling cartoon sun (in fact, the entire scene is a cartoonish landscape reminiscent of the Teletubbies set) and the words "It's That Friendly" printed at the top. Well, okay, that also sorta seems like a positive thing--until you start searching for sarcasm, putting emphasis on different words ("Oh, "it's that friendly," I see.") or spot a few whose owners slapped one of those faux-bullet hole stickers on the sun's face. That's the problem with leaving the interpretive optimism up to the viewer: locals are quick to apply hipster irony-with-a-dash-of-snarky-cynicism (to compensate for the raging inferiority complex) to just about anything.

Anyway, check out this video of our latest tv spot...I have to say, it is pretty entertaining--it seems like the ad agencies our esteemed mayor is hiring are getting hipper. Thanks goes to Andy over at South Twelfth for making me aware of this, a shining ray of goofy hometown forced optimism. So is this my favorite bit of pro-Louisville propaganda? Well, it's possible that it is...

That Finger's Been in Somebody's Pie

OOOkay...I tend to post a lot about Jim Bunning here, and even the occasional rap on Mitch McConnell, and it usually has a humorous tone to it because, well, these guys are usually hilarious. They're a couple of good old boys from the GOP who Kentucky just can't seem to get rid of, and they're usually so hung up on calling each other names and double-dealing their inter-party smack talk that they typically miss any real opportunity to: A. get anything else accomplished, B. say anything nice (or rational) about anyone, C. make Kentucky look like anything other than a raving hillbilly hotbed, and D. seriously rankle my ire. Besides the acute embarrassment they cause for the state, they're just a couple of regular, harmless blow-hards.

But...

The recent amendment to the Defense Appropriations bill introduced by freshman senator from Minnesota, Al Franken, has given our boys a plum opportunity to stand united against something that, for once, we should all be able to agree on: the amendment proposes punishment for contractors who "restrict their employees from taking workplace sexual assault, battery and discrimination cases to court." This was prompted by the recent news that a 19 year old female KBR employee (KBR, by the way, is a subsidiary of Halliburton) was gang raped by her co-workers, then locked in a storage locker, threatened, and later told that she would not be able to take legal recourse because Halliburton thinks it is above the law (and, apparently, so do 30 senators--um, all republican--who voted against Franken's amendment). One could assume that Bunning and McConnell agree with Senator Jeff Sessions (R-Ala.) who said that the amendment was a "political attack directed at Halliburton." Wow. Yes, poor Halliburton. Way to tow the party line, there, fellas. Now that you've done your job on that, feel free to get back to railing against ACORN and working on your derisive belly laughs.

schmucks.

Happy Archives Month!

Readers, one more reason to love October (as if you needed another one): It's American Archives Month in the USA! This means that it's appropriate to visit, support, or otherwise promote your own favorite local archival institution. Kentucky has decided to expand its Archives Week into a full, month-long celebration to coincide, and this year's theme is especially exciting: the Lincoln bicentennial! Check out that poster!

Kentucky has a (somewhat tenuous) Lincoln connection which we tend to exaggerate--er, focus on--he was born here, and though he only spent a few years of his early boyhood in the state before his family moved to Indiana, we get to claim those great legendary Honest Abe, log cabin, teaching himself to read on a dirt floor stories. Plus, an added Lincoln bonus for the state: his wife Mary Todd was born and raised in well-to-do Lexington society (a distant relation, Charles Todd, was the very first Kentucky Colonel). So, yeah, Kentucky's Lincoln fixation may be a bit much sometimes--yet another bid for fame and relevance--but in a lot of ways it's legit.

Anyway, it's October 1st and you all have 30 more days to figure out how you will celebrate American Archives Month. I recommend making that visit to your local archives that you've been putting off--research your family in a genealogical collection, ask to see some awesome primary resource, or even just subscribe to a mailing list so you'll be informed of things like interesting lectures, publications, and new collections in your area. Support your local archives--read a book, make a donation, and/or buy an archivist a drink--you'll be doing your part.

More Cringe-Worthy News from Ky...

Well, readers, after discussing the story earlier this week about the convicted sex offender who was ordained a minister in my hometown I didn't think there would be a worse bit of news out of Kentucky this week. Boy, I should stop thinking those things out loud.

A U.S. Census worker was found dead in Clay County Kentucky, hanged from a tree with the words "Fed" carved into his chest. W-O-W. The body was found on September 12, but the story is just now breaking for some reason--although it is notable (maybe) that I learned of this story not from our local rag (which I read everyday), or our local tv news (which I watch sporadically), but from the Huffington Post. That's like hearing the news about your crazy uncle screwing a horse (again) from your dentist.

Clay County is well outside the jurisdiction of my metropolitan oasis of Louisville Metro, but only about 80 miles South of an area in which I frequently camp and hike in the Daniel Boone National Forest--a bit too close for comfort, maybe. The area in and around the park is what I would call very Bible Belt rural: lots of pick up trucks, mullets, country music, and the type of lazy-eyed possum hunters you'd expect to see wearing some type of merchandise officially licensed by Larry the Cable Guy. Every time I visit the area I lose count of the number of Confederate flags and "Don't Tread on Me" tattoos I see. Living in Louisville--a fairly liberal, center-left-ish minded place--I tend to forget that the rest of my home state is filled with an ocean of seriously undereducated bat-shit crazy Fox News disciples. So with this mind-numbingly scary crime squarely in mind, I feel somewhat justified here in assuming that the magical tears of Glenn Beck had something to do with this.

Wow...

Whenever my hometown (or homestate) makes the news--before I even hear the details--I reflexively wince, knowing that whatever it is, it can't be good (or reasonable, or redeemable, or intelligent...) It turns out that my instinct to cringe first and listen second was correct, as usual:

A local independent church in Louisville's Germantown neighborhood has ordained a convicted child molester as a minister...WOW, indeed. The affirmed pedophile Mark Hourigan was sent to prison for three years and has been put on the sex-offender registry for life after repeatedly sodomizing an 11-year-old boy when he was a minister at Beechfork Baptist Church in Gravel Switch, KY (wherever that is). But never mind all that: the church, City of Refuge Worship Center (sounds pretty generic, like it should be corporately sponsored by Gatorade or something), is into forgiveness in a big way...so much so that it has decided to put more kids at risk for the sake of giving this one creep yet another shot at abusing a position of authority. Or, as Rochelle Fournier and David Clohessy (with the support group SNAP) put it: "We want authorities to err on the side of safeguarding the physical, emotional and spiritual safety of children, over boosting the self-esteem of one criminal adult." well...yeah.

I get that Christians are supposed to be turning the other cheek and all...but does that count for pedophiles? Especially when the recidivism of pedophiles is so commonly, consistently high (i.e.: he's going to do it again if he gets the chance)?? Shouldn't Jesus have put some sort of clause in there about the Golden Rule applying to everyone (your mom, your best friend, your enemy, your enemy's mom, etc) except that child rapist down the street? Maybe if Jesus had been raised by a lawyer instead of a carpenter the folks down at City of Refuge wouldn't be putting Creepy McGee in a situation where he would be tempted to screw up yet another kid's life.

Of course, all this makes it sound like I'm surprised that this happened in my hometown. Well, that's not completely true.: ask me about the summer during college when I worked at the local amusement park and they accidently hired a convicted sex-offender...to work in kiddie land! um, oops.

The Filson Historical Society

This photo is of the main building of the Filson Club, a 125 year old local historical society of which I am now a proud member. I've been wanting to join up for several years, but I finally decided that now's the time: I'm only going to be in school for a few more months, so I had to act soon to take advantage of their student rate. Plus, I'm taking a class called Archives and Manuscript Management this semester and will need access to a local archives.

Anyway, my first visit was a rousing success: I have a paper due in which I have to write about being a patron at an archive, so I randomly decided to do a bit of research on the Civil War battle of Perryville, Kentucky (also known as the Invasion of Kentucky). The anniversary of the battle is coming up in a few weeks on October 8th (1862), and there is quite a bit of material at the Filson concerning the war, as well as the state's role in it. I spent some time in the library, getting oriented by the friendly reference librarians, and finally worked my courage up to go upstairs and visit the rare books and manuscripts room.

Readers, it was REALLY awesome: I got to page through the ACTUAL field report penned by Confederate General Hardee on the battle at Perryville. It was written on your basic-looking ruled notebook paper (sans spiral fringe, of course), and the General's penmanship puts us 21st century slobs to utter shame. It described, with poetic flourish, how the Confederate path "was marked by the crushed lines and disordered battalions of the enemy. Our troops displayed higher qualities than mere discipline can confer. The furor of freemen and the enthusiasm of patriots animated thier valor: whenever they advanced, the enemy recoiled before the shock: when they retired he dared not venture to pursue." I wonder how modern military reports compare to that.

Anyway, I was astounded that they brought it right out for me and left me alone in the reading room with it--free to ogle and page through it for as long as I liked! W-O-W! Here I am, just a random schmuck, and they treat me like some book writing historian--being taken seriously by strangers is kind of a new experience for me.

I plan to make a return trip next week to look at random awesome things: maybe I'll ask to see the letter penned by Mary Todd Lincoln to her cousin Emily in 1864...oh, boy!

"Ever since then I have believed that God is not only a gentleman and a sport; He is a Kentuckian too."

-William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury

The Jim Bunning Guide to Politics

Reading the local newspaper here in Louisville, Kentucky has never taken a whole lot of time, even before last winter when the Courier-Journal dramatically scaled back its already anemic little rag (for "cost reduction reasons"). It's a thin offering of local goings-on, and most of the features are syndicated from the larger papers from larger, more important cities. With so many aggregate news sites on the internet offering free, constantly updated content you have to really scratch to come up with some sort of extra reason to plunk down your 75 cents--it's what we in the library and information science business call "added value." Well, nothing ratchets up the added value of our local AP cannibalizer for me more than our own illustrious GOP nutball senator: Jim Bunning. Old Jim (and I do mean OLD: at 77, he's one of the oldest in the Senate) is quite entertaining, if not acutely embarrassing for the state of Kentucky. If there happens to be a story about him in the paper on any given day, you can count on it being worth your time & your dime.

Bunning has a deep history of defiant foot-in-mouth syndrome, and he is bullishly unrepentant about the most outrageously inflammatory verbal diahrea. During his 2004 reelection campaign he was quoted saying his opponent (a child of Italian immigrants) looked like one of Saddam Hussein's sons(!), and he also made a comment that an opponent's campaign worker beat his wife (based on no actual evidence, mind you). Just this year, back in February, he predicted (quite gleefully) in front of a roomfull of Republican supporters, that Ruth Bader Ginsburg would be dead inside 9 months from pancreatic cancer. Yep, Jim's quite a guy, alright. And he even managed to insult her further when he was coerced into appologizing, saying he was sorry "if I offended her." Um, not sorry that he ghoulishly indulged in wishing for the death of a political enemy for the idle enjoyment of other ghoulishly-minded sorts, only sorry if it made her feel bad...or whatever. Sheesh! Women! Who can figure 'em--am I right, fellas?

Jim Bunning has taken blustery partisan trash talk to new heights, but he isn't the type of guy to limit his art to only his political opponents--he's busy dishing it out to his own party people as well. Worried that he'll lose another reelection bid in 2010, GOPers have been none-too-subtle about their insinuations that Bunning can't win and that he should bow out of the race--a stance that has only pissed our boy off, giving him a reason (as if he needed one) to shoot off his spectacularly crazy mouth at everybody from GOP minority leader Mitch McConnell to Kentucky Senate President David Williams. He even publicly called Texas senator John Cornyn (the NRSC chairman) a liar. He's threatened to sue the GOP--and maybe even more incredibly, threatened to resign and let the Democratic governor name his replacement--if the Republican leaders refuse to help him get reelected. It just gets better and better with each new verbal bitch-slap he hands out.

Probably my favorite little Bunning gem this year was when he decided to hire a private agency to do a poll in order to project his odds of reelection (probably so he could use the information to insult McConnell's grandmother), but then, suspiciously, failed to release the results. And when I say "failed to release the results," I mean that he told a reporter that it was none of his "goddamned business" (*actual quote*), and that the reporter could get the information when HE payed someone $20,000 to do a study. Hmm, do you think Jim got good news in those poll projections, or not?

This week Bunning has come out publicly to say he thinks he'll raise more money than anyone else in the race. But of course, he refused to disclose how much money he actually does have on hand right now. I guess us jerks will just have to wait until next week, when by law he'll have to disclose his second-quarter fundraising report. When asked what he thought of the amount reported by potential rival Trey Grayson ($602,699 since May, more than twice Bunning's first-quarter raised funds of $262,980), Bunning used the opportunity to give one of his signature backhanded compliments:

"I congratulate (him). It's nice to be able to work everyday on just raising money...I don't have the luxury of going around the state and knocking on doors and making phone calls to everybody that is available to raise money from. This job keeps me a little busy." Yeah, afterall, he's only Secretary of State--basically he just hangs around the pool all day and eats bon-bons, I'm sure. Not like you, Jimbo: you get things done, right? busy, busy.

Weeell...actually: in 2006 Time magazine chose Bunning as one of the top five worst senators, calling him The Underperformer. According to the article: "When asked [other Senators] struggle to recall any legislation Bunning has worked on," and that "he has the smarts to be an effective Senator but doesn't put in the effort." Ouch. No wonder Jimmy's taking indiscriminate swings at anybody who comes near. With friends like these, who needs friends?

The meltdown of Jim Bunning seems like it's been fermenting and unfolding for ages, but we still have a long time to go before the 2010 election. I'm rubbing my expectant little hands together in anticipation of reading all about the approaching political trainwreck. I'll be keeping a close eye on the Jim Bunning implosion story, readers, so be ready for more updates on inept backwoods politicking from my home state...

The Bourbon Review

Being a Kentuckian, my favored drink is bourbon. And for the same reason, my favorite soft drink is Ale-8-One, a locally made and regionally available ginger-ale type beverage. Naturally I, and many others like me, have been inspired to combine the two into a kind of highbrow hillbilly delight. This year's Kentucky Derby was a good reason for me to trot out a surprisingly good mint julep made with Ale-8-One; I've also been dabbling with a similar recipe made with sweet vermouth and orange bitters (in place of mint) to arrive at a sort of bastard step-child of the Manhatten drink.

So you can imagine my interest when I stumbled across a new recipe using my two favorite iingredients in a recent issue of The Bourbon Review (The Bourbon Review, LLC, Summer 2009). The drink is called A Late Freeze, and I cannot wait to try it out. My favorite thing about the ingredients? There are only two. This drink, apparently, is all in the preparation:

A Late Freeze

• 6 ounces bourbon
• 6 pack of Ale-8-One

Instructions:

• Boil a 6-pack of Ale-8-One in a saucepan until reduced by half
• Cool, then add one ounce of bourbon for every bottle/can of Ale-8-One
• Freeze until slushy
• Place in blender, pulse
• Serve

Oh, Boy!

Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels

A Kentucky Colonel is an honorary title bestowed upon citizens (not necessarily KY citizens, although that helps) who have shown merit (of some sort or another) by inspiring recommendation to the Order. Only the current Governor of the Commonwealth has the power to bestow this commission. There are no duties required of a Ky Col., but we (yes, I am a [card-carrying] member!) are expected to be a kind of goodwill ambassador that would reflect well upon the Commonwealth through our words and deeds.

According to the Order's website:

"Many people think of the Kentucky Colonels as a group of people that enjoys the good life, has an enviable social calendar and, during Kentucky Derby week, consumes mint juleps as if they were iced tea. Well, that’s us! But, there is much, much more behind those fancy certificates and The Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels’ membership cards that are displayed by deserving individuals world-wide.

The title Kentucky Colonel originated in 1813. The Kentucky Militia had just returned from a highly successful “War of 1812” campaign that resulted in control of the Northwest being returned to the United States. When the militia dispersed, Governor Isaac Shelby asked Charles S. Todd, one of his officers in the campaign, to remain in the capitol and serve as an AID-DE- CAMP on the Governor’s Staff. Todd was given the rank and grade of Colonel.

Early Colonels, such as Colonel Todd, actually served military roles. But, as times changed throughout the1800’s, the title became more of an honorary one. In the closing years of the century, Colonels in uniform would stand as symbolic guards at state events and social functions were held for them at the Governor’s mansion. In the late 1920’s, a group of Colonels started talking about forming a formal “society”. Governor Flem Sampson gave his blessings to the project. “I am for it”, he wrote the organizers. Late one Saturday afternoon in May of 1931, the first meeting of what would eventually become the Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels was held in Frankfort, Kentucky."

What I really like about the Order (besides being historic, distinguished-sounding and decidedly old-fashioned in an eccentricly locale-specific kind of way), is that it admits new members vampirically: only an existing Colonel can make YOU a Colonel, they have to recommend you. And that's pretty much all the requirement that there is. Me being a female was no hurdle (as it is in becoming a member of the storied and equally historic Pendennis club, where "decency, decorum, civility, good manners and the social graces are still very much in style"), neither was being a generally under-employed art degree-holding non-professional. Nope! All that was required was a nomination from a Colonel relative of mine, and the next thing I knew I was opening a very official looking document-sized manila envelope post marked from the Governer's office, which contained my Certificate of Colonelship! W-O-W! It hangs in calligraphied glory on my wall.

Case Study: Derby Glasses

In the city (Louisville, KY), every respectful nest-building hipster (and everyone else, really) owns at least one commemorative Kentucky Derby souvenier glass. Although they are ever present in the cupboards and cabinets of just about every Kentuckianian (that's KY + Indiana + "ian," a term used for anyone living in or within driving distance of Louisville), they tend to have two different groups of enthusiasts: The afore-mentioned nesting hipsters, and the people who I would call "collectors."

The hipster types can really get behind the regional flavor of the Derby glass' particular brand of kitsch. Their devotion may seem, on the surface, to be reminiscent of the typical hipster pseudo-clever irony (usually laced with the requisite whimsical retro referencing and inclusion of things of the "so uncool its cool" persuasion). You could infer that this group likes Derby glasses in the same way that most young people claim to "like" things these days: the way anyone "likes" Sammy Hagar or the original Battlestar Galactica or Chuck Norris (clue-in: NO ONE really likes those things in a genuine way). But, surprisingly, you'll find a refreshing authenticity behind the hipster affinity for them, a sense of insider privilege and a genuine pride for one's hometown: embodied by collectible tumblers. And they look especially handsome when filled with ice and bourbon.

As for the collectors, I witness no real joy or pride in their reasoning. These are the sort that gather at the big flea markets around town, sometimes renting booths and charging large quantities of cash for things like dirty silverware, busted furniture, "antiques" and various brick-a-brack gotten on the cheap from estate sales. They usually subscribe to the more humorless end of the "gotta catch 'em all" spectrum. For them its all business, and these sorts are the jerks who show up, pre-dawn, in December at the local Toys R Us to buy the entire shipment of Tickle Me Elmos, ruthlessly crushing all unfortunate souls between themselves and the palette full of Christmas Ebay gold. These obsessive nutjobs have multiples from every year they ever made Derby glasses, and by the way, they "know what they're worth" and want top dollar, Jackson! I mention them to acknowledge the darker side of the Derby glass, a counterpoint to the sunny side of hipster love. A collecter would never use a Derby glass for its original intention (holding a beverage), whereas the hipster set generally has Derby glasses in their dish rotation, holding drinks right there on their counter tops next to thrift store coffee mugs and Target wine glasses.

Shockingly, I own only the three Derby glasses pictured above: #'s 131 (2005), 132 (2006) & 135 (2009). They represent the 3 occassions I have ever actually been to Churchill Downs, although never actually ON Derby day (a local holiday in which business shuts down, schools are let out, and everyone's drunk by 2pm). For an extra 6 bucks or so you can purchase a drink at the track in the year's official glass, which is exactly what I always do (otherwise, I would probably have no idea I was actually AT Churchill in 2005, my memory being not so hot for dates).

Owning a Derby glass is one mark of being a local (for better or worse), and a fun way to mark the passing of time. It's the yardstick of local pride, the perfect vessel for bourbon-related bartending experimentation, and a little bit of class in a kitschy little glass, my friends.