Bushmills Twin City Vote

Bushmills, Northern Ireland is looking for it's twin city in the US. Sponsored by Bushmills Whisky, the contest has been narrowed to Louisville, Boston, and Portland, ME. And we're losing badly right now at just 14% of the vote.

Vote now at http://www.bushmills.com/. The competition ends on St. Patricks Day. By voting you're also entered to win a 3-day (yeesh, so short) trip to Ireland.

Boston has a strong lead, but we're trailing Maine by 10%. Doesn't Boston have enough drinking/Ireland-related cache?

IU Charity Case?

I'm only a casual fan of college basketball and Indiana University is not high on my list of favorite teams, so the news that Kelvin Sampson has accepted a buyout from IU doesn't rattle me much. What does rattle me, though, is the fact that $500,000 of the $750,000 buyout has come from an anonymous donor.

I appreciate that Sampson's anonymous donor must have had IU's best interest in mind. But seriously? A college basketball coach-- a creep, at that-- is a charity case worthy of someone's $500,000?

In the same section of the Courier Journal that reports on the buyout is a plaintive letter from Victoria Dempsey of the Kentucky Commission on Human Rights. They're $214,000 short in their budget. Interesting and sad.

Memory Lane Food: decades of sating the rumble down under

I imagine that deep in the woods of the Smoky Mountains all the hibernating bears are thinking about the same thing that this urban hibernator is thinking about: food. Too cold to explore the city, too grouchy to socialize, we're stuck dwelling on one activity that requires minimal exertion and no engagement whatsoever.

Lou recently got back from a too-short visit to St. Petersberg, Florida. Once upon a time, I spent a couple of years living across the bay in Tampa. Next to visiting with friends and generally defrosting, I had a single driving mission: have a meal at the historic Columbia Restaurant.

And it got me thinking, if I were to leave Louisville tomorrow, what food would I miss the most?

But let's take a trip back in the ol' Lou Time Machine and visit some of the past hometown foods I miss most.

We'll skip over the baby days. Let's face it, nostalgia alone renders the homecooked meals of my family far superior than anything we ever ate at restaurants. I'm a sucker for New England Clam Chowder, but no one will ever make it better than my G-pa. I love me some red meat, but my grandmother's grilled steak tips still cause me to put the pedal to the metal in anticipation as I drive to her house. My other grandmother made a kicking Vineyard Herbed Chicken; I have the recipe, but it's never as good. My aunt's Edna's Pot Roast-- she's not Edna; I don't know who Edna is-- and her Yorkshire Pudding... hubba hubba. Ma wasn't much of a cook, although she's gotten better as she's aged; I still make her lasagna and stuffed peppers.

Anyway, first stop NYC. It's been more than a decade since my college days, and some of my favorite joints may be defunct. I haven't been to the city since 2000, so I haven't had a chance to check it out. Let's see what a little web-diddling can produce.

• Distaster in the first click! The West End Gate on Broadway near Columbia closed in April 2006. Opened in 1911, haunt of the Beat generation and members of the Weather Underground, and the site of many a Columbia student's first underaged drink in a bar, the West End also had a killer grilled chicken salad with blanched broccoli. I don't ever think I ate anything else there, and believe me, I ate (and drank) there often.


• Strike Two: there's no listing online for Cafe 112, the pseudo Italian restaurant on 112th and Broadway that offered a cheese raviolli with alfredo sauce, ham, onions, and peas. Again, I don't think I ever ate anything else there. (I'm that kind of diner, by the way. Loyal to dishes.)


• Thank goodness! I finally found a mainstay of my New York City diet that is still in business. Yaffa Cafe on St. Mark's Avenue between 1st and A. And, bless their hearts, they still have the Avacado Melt-- simply an avacado with your choice of melted cheese (muenster!) and a side salad with tahini dressing for (now) only $6.95. The homefries there were also memorable.


• I'm on a roll-- clearly the East Village hangs on to its haunts-- Dojo also on St. Marks near 2nd Avenue. You don't often see burgers served on pita bread. It came with a side salad with tahini dressing (I still have a thing for tahini dressing), and I used to stuff the whole salad into the pita with the burger. Still a deal for $5.95.


• How crazy is this: by my senior year, I was going to Ollie's Noodle Shop at least twice a week for dinner. I have still never had steamed vegetable dumplings that good. But my meal of choice from this noodle restaurant (and-- GASP-- no longer on the menu??!!): Spaghetti. Hey, it's noodles.

Of course, there were other places that tickled my tummy or served as a home away from home. Most notably: the Hungarian Pastry Shop on Amsterdam between 110 & 111. I think I owe them rent for all the many hours I spent there during my four years of college. There was a Chinese restaurant on Amsterdam called the College Inn which had decent food but became a regular date place because the food came with free, cheap white wine. It didn't matter if you were 12, they'd serve you-- and serve you, and serve you, and serve you.

Leaving on a jet plane for Tampa, Florida.

• It's kind of interesting that my all-time most-missed food is a salad, the 1905 Salad at the Columbia Restaurant. Over the past few years, friends from Tampa or friends that have visited Tampa have made it a routine to gift me with a few bottles of the dressing, but somehow it's still not the same. Just about everything on the menu of this 103 year old Cuban establishment is amazing. Swanky without the swanky prices. Pretty much my ideal restaurant.


• Tampa is the city for Cuban food and the first Cuban restaurant I was introduced to was Carmine's, also in Ybor City. I never quite got the taste for it's famous Devil Crab-- kind of a sour (if I remember correctly) deep fried crabcake-- but the Cuban sandwiches and roast chicken are amazing. It's always one of those quandries when you visit: one or the other. Carmine's is open late and also has wonderful Cuban cafe con leche.

This trip down memory lane will have to be continued. My trusty laptop sidekick is hungry too. Coming soon: New Orleans and the Ville!

Lou is hibernating

I know, I know. But like a cute widdle bear cub, soon enough I shall emerge from my cave, stretch, and take on the world, or at least Loueyville, once more.

In the meantime, I've been updating Lou Reads slowly. What else is there to do in a cave?

Loueyville = Safe!

I know I'm coming from a very different perspective than most Loueyvillagers, but I've never been able to keep myself from snorting and snickering a bit any time I hear people talk about how "X neighborhood in Loueyville isn't safe" or "the rise in crime is making me scared."  Safe?  Seriously?  "I feel unsafe walking in downtown after dark because of all the scary panhandlers."  Really?  C'mon, you're kidding right?  "The gang problem in Loueyville is UN-real."  Yeah, unreal.  Like un-real-bad.  You'd think we lived in Compton!  (I'm dating myself.  I think I've heard that Compton is actually quite safe now).

Lou is going to stop mocking Loueyvillagers sense of what's "not safe" right now for fear of jinxing herself.  It would be just her luck to walk out of work in her VERY SAFE neighborhood and get mowed down in a drive-by.

But at least now we have proof that Louisville is indeed safe.  The 8th safest city of over 500,000 people.  We should make a bigger deal out of it.  I think it's interesting to note that most of the top 10 cities are located in places where the weather is so nice that people have better things to do than behave like criminals:  Honolulu is #1.  Duh.  If you live in Honolulu, why risk going to jail where you have to be inside all the time?  San Jose, CA; San Diego, CA; San Antonio, TX; Austin, TX.  I'd rather live in Alaska than ever live in California or Texas, but I have to admit that if I HAD to live in CA or TX, those would be the four cities I'd move to (under duress).  Fort Worth... not so much.

Anyway #8.  Right on, Loueyville!!

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More new features than ever. Check out the new AOL Mail!

Holiday Shopping-- Ho ho ho in the Hometown!

Yesterday, Lou dumped a fairly substantial chunk of change into the local economy in an effort to put her Christmas shopping to bed. (Note: "substantial chunk of change" in Lou-speak just barely tips into three digits, so no one's going to be giving her awards for local altruism.)

First stop: The Mellwood Center's Good Folk Fest. It wasn't til I walked in the door that I realized I'd gone to the GFF last year. I'm a big fan of folk art-- and an occasional folk-artist wannabe (my trip ended with a trip to Artist & Craftsman Supply to refresh my supply of brushes and paint)-- but the problem with folk-art-as-gifts is that folk art is so incredibly subjective. What's cool to me (for example, a seemingly finger-painted and incredibly timely painting of Evel Kneivel jumping a tank of sharks) may not be the taste of my Restoration Hardware and Pottery Barn lovinng cousin. That being said, there's a great deal of satisfaction to be had in buying at the GFF. I bought a lovely painted wooden box for a whopping $20, and from the reaction of the artist, you would have thought I was dropping $2000. I just wanted to hug her.

Stop two: I always get turned around leaving the Mellwood, and this time I found myself driving up Brownsboro Road, right past Barbara Lee's Kitchen-- a restaurant that my students have been imploring me to visit for the past few months (somehow it came up that I love diners). And bless their cholesterol-clogged little hearts, but they sure did deliver for me. Barbara Lee's, located at 2410 Brownsboro Road, is open 24 hrs and features just about every diner-staple imaginable. And some unimaginable dishes too. I had a BLT & fried egg sandwich with hashbrowns, and I am a wee bit surprised that I am still alive to type this. But man, it was yummy and cheap-- my whole bill came to less than $7 (they take cash only). Barbara Lee's is a little dark and creepy, and certainly rough around the edges, but what can you expect from a place that has at least five sandwiches on the menu that cost under $4 including fries or hashbrowns? Dark and creepy, yes. Unwelcoming? No. After an elderly couple left five minutes after I got there, I was alone in the joint and the sweet woman behind the counter chatted UK Basketball with me (which I know nothing about and I briefly incurred her wrath when I brought up Tubby Smith. I managed to distract her by talking about the weather.)

Fortfied by my meal-- my friend behind the counter eagle-eyed me until I finished every bite, she looked like she might be the kind to chastise me for not joining the "clean plate club"-- I hopped in the ol' jalopy and decided to go wherever the road would take me. It's been a blue eon since I drove around town for the sake of just driving. And eventually the road lead to the east side of Downtown. That morning I'd read in the newspaper something about the store Scout-- I can't remember what, but I've always liked their logo (I can be such a whore for marketing)-- so I decided to try to hunt it down.

But on the first pass down Market Street, I missed it (or I thought I did-- I actually didn't go far enough), but ended up stopping at Red Tree, which, for some reason, I'd always thought was a restaurant. When it comes to Christmas shopping locally, I always end up spending my hard-earned cash at places with serious charm-- a little flair goes a long way toward putting me in the holiday spirit. Red Tree has charm in spades. Jam-packed with eclectic gifts and furniture, the two-story shop features reasonable-prices in a beautiful and festive atmosphere. I picked up three gifts for three of my hardest-to-shop for relatives for under $70. And the sweet people at Red Tree even wrapped them for me (unfortunately, I realized when I got home that I would probably have to un-wrap them for plane travel-- damned TSA folks).

I eventually did find Scout, which was also oozing with charm and quirk. Unfortunately, try as I might, I couldn't find a damned thing there that I could afford. I'll go back, for sure, but as with some of my favorite shops on Bardstown, I think Scout will remain a browse-only option in the future.

Speaking of Bardstown-- last night was Bardstown Road Aglow! the annual dusk-10pm holiday open house. And this year's Aglow was twice as packed as last year's. I actually had to skip a few shops because of the crowd. These open houses are always a blast, usually featuring free food and wine and sometimes discounts. (Although this year seemed to feature less wine and fewer discounts than last year-- Kudos to Spree who offered hot cocoa with peppermint schnaps; that really warmed the cockles). Why Louisville? and the Book & Music Exchange saw a little of my holiday green, but for the most part I just walked, enjoyed the sights, and browsed. (Note to self: don't wear those high-heeled boots next year, you're still recovering today!)

Black Friday: Kicking off the Season at the Edinburgh Outlets

I've always been a big fan of Adbusters, healthily critical of our conusmer culture. If I ever have kids, I'll probably be one of those "mean parents" who won't pony up the latest trendy toy every Christmas, who'll substitute books for gagets as gifts. Once I became a homeowner, my level of consumption dropped dramatically, and that's a good thing.
That being said, I'm hardly the "dirty hippy" that Roommate claims I am. It's still been too long since my last trip to Disney World. I think Martha Stewart has just about perfect taste. I have "consumption crushes" of my own: sigh... Roomba... some day, you will be mine... oh yes, you will be mine!!

Honestly, though, it wasn't until I spent my first Thanksgiving with Roommates family, back when we were dating, that I was ever introduced to this thing call Black Friday. And I thought it was utter lunacy. And mostly, I still do. And Roommate's family isn't even hardcore-- I think we got up at 5am or so that first year.

But now that I'm in the habit of scouring the Black Friday ads, I realize that "Buy Nothing Day" is all fine and good if you happen to be a rich anti-consumerist. But what if you happen to be on a limited budget? What if your kiddo really, really wants that 5-speed bike for sale at Toys R Us at 6am for $100 off the regular price? On principal, you're going to forgo the $100 saving? Forgo getting the bike entirely or spending $100 more on Saturdays? That's lunacy.

Anyway, so Roommate and I went to Indiana for Turkey Day and the family happened to mention that the Edinburgh Outlet Malls were opening at midnight with all kinds of early bird specials. We joked about it a bit, but 11pm rolled around and found us parked in the lot watching cars flood in.

The Coach outlet was the biggest draw. We were floored that the line at 11p already wrapped around the building. Later we'd heard that some folks waited more than 2 hrs just to get 10% off. I find that hard to believe. Aeropostal, Gap, Nike, and a couple other stores had amassed significant lines before the doors opened.

Roommate and I played it cool, ducked in the stores that were less crowded, got a crappy hot mocha from the chocolate store, and basically treated it like any other trip to an outlet mall. When we walked into our first store-- the Bass Outlet-- Roommate said, "Okay, my brain just reset. It's no longer midnight."

"Why?"

"I'm in a shoe store."

If I was in the practice of giving clothes as gifts, I could have made out like a bandit, but as it was I bought one thing for my mom (and did save close to $50, so yay me!), and a skirt and sweater for myself. Roommate batted zero in the tis-the-season department and came away with just a pair of shoes for himself. In the end, we spent two hours, but it was a goofy, fun way to kick of the Christmas vibe.

That being said, I don't think I'll ever be the kind of person who can wait in line for hours for a store to open. When I saw the line at Coach, I said, "Okay, if Bono were signing the pocketbooks, I might. But otherwise never." Perhaps if I lived in South Florida and could start camping outside of Best Buy at 10pm for their $15.99 DVD player doorbuster in the comfort of 70+ degree weather, my feelings would change... but last night it was in the 20's!!! Lunacy, I tell you!

Happy Thanksgiving! Blethen House Cookies...

Happy Thanksgiving to Loueyvillagers far and wide! (And wider still after Thanksgiving dinner!)

Once upon a time, ages ago, I had a boyfriend who liked to cook. This was lo those many years ago when I was in high school. David was a pro in the kitchen, even when he was fourteen or fifteen, but his true calling was dessert. All of his recipes are lost to me now (Vinegar candy??? PLEASE, someone enlighten me? So far, the web has been of no use! It involved snow, which we have in KY on occasion.), except one.

Blethen House cookies. My mother still has the recipe card in David's handwriting. I have a copied version that I've carried with me for years. It's my best-loved recipe ever. Today, I set about making a double batch to bring to Thanksgiving, and as my computer was open, I decided to check it out. And viola! One person in the blogosphere knows of which I speak. Check out the recipe here: Blethen House Cookies.

Neighborhood Association IV: Still Crazy after All these Months

*DING*

A pretty blonde in a bikini and stilletto heels steps over the ropes and enters the ring. She circles slowly, holding over her head a white sign reading "ROUND..."

...Who knows what round this is at this point, huh?

Last night (11/19) the Original Highlands Neighborhood Association (OHNA) held its November meeting and elections for six of the twelve Board of Directors. Roommate came with me this time; I was glad to have a witness. A full three-quarters of the meeting progressed with civility and sanity. Impressive.

The elections appeared to go off without a hitch. There were 9 candidates for the 6 open seats. Each stood up and spoke for 15-30 seconds about how much they loved their neighborhood and wanted to serve for the greater good. They seemed to come from all walks of life, all segments of our fairly diverse neighborhood. I engaged in the process, did my best to make democracy work for me. But to tell the truth, the process felt palpably inauthentic.

Let's face it, folks. For Lord only knows how long this neighborhood-- or at least the OHNA-- has been a hotbed of controversy surrounding one issue and one issue only: the Historic Preservation District. Only ONE of the nine candidates said anything about his or her position on the issue, and he was not elected to fill an open seat. One of the ringleaders of the anti-district movement ran but kept his mouth shut about the issue. Unless you knew he'd been one of the most-- if not the most-- aggressive campaigners on his side of the issue, he would have just come off as another concerned citizen/business owner. I applaud the man who came straight out and declared his horse in this race. At least he was giving us fair warning: a vote for him was a vote for a voice of anti-district on the Board. The rest of them... who knows???

Both the candidates and the OHNA are at fault for this. Yes, it was a democratic election. But would we stand for a government election where we were just given names and bios for the candidates? The election came down to who seemed the most likeable, who had a job that you admired, who gave you a good vibe. I suppose every one of us should take some of the blame-- somebody should have stood up at the meeting and said it was impossible to make an "informed" vote without information. Maybe it should have been me. Mea culpa, too.

The poo hit the windmill when the litter tzar of the neighborhood stood up and gave some details about clean-ups and then implored the incoming Board to review the OHNA Neighborhood Plan. He said, basically, that it was an important document with specific suggestions and that they should look into starting to implementing those suggestions ASAP.

Commence to poo-flinging.

Who drew up this document? It was done in secret! It's a farce! (repeat this last sentence at least ten times) Who is this 'they' of which you speak? Who paid for it? Where did the money come from? Don't you claim to represent the community!... be quiet... sit down.. closed doors... mismanaged... no one wants this... elite minority... the black helicopters are coming for all of us...

Okay, I made up that last little bit. This time, both sides threw the poo. And it wasn't quite as bad as August's meeting. But I left rattled. Call me sensitive, but the level of hostility shown by those who oppose the plan is just plain discomforting.

Keep in mind: this is different from the Historic Preservation District; this is a wide-sweeping plan for the neighborhood in general. I've read it. You should too. It's here.

Roommate said he left his first meeting feeling pretty hopeful about the neighborhood association, despite the outburst. He said that he felt as though the majority of the people were just shaking their heads in disbelief at the insanity. I felt less optimistic. I can't help but feel that we'll get nothing productive done as long as the inmates have such a presence in (and may now be in charge of-- who knows?) the asylum.

First Snow of Winter 2007-2008

Approximately 11:10am, Thursday, November 15, 2007. Near-invisible flurries. But there.

Kynt & Vyxsin: Keeping Louisville Weird in the Eyes of the Rest of America

First of all, I had no idea that the Amazing Race was already up to Season 12! The only person I know who watches the show is my mother, and I keep forgetting to ask her about Kynt and Vyxsin, the first (?) Louisville couple on the show.

Kynt works at Texas Roadhouse and Vyxsin works at Ramsi's, and according to their Amazing Race bios: they both enjoy roadtripping to Sci-Fi conventions across the country where as Kynt puts it, "They feel right at home surrounded by Storm Troopers and Wookies."

Currently these "purveyors of Goth" (as the website calls them... according to my online dictionary "purveyor" means "one who supplies provisions...eh?) are in a very solid fourth place. So cheer them on! Win one for the Ville, Kynt & Vyxsin! Win one for all the proud, weird Villagers!

WHILE I WAS SLEEPING

Here in the Midwest, a certain time of year rolls around, bringing with it a certain change in the weather. And certain Lous, especially those who have spent the past ten-plus years in tropical climes, inadvertantly go into hibernation.

Here's a round-up of things that have been going on in Loueyville since last I wrote....

Bring Out Your Dead!

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Happy Halloween!

Ghost Hunters-- the popular Sci-Fi network-- broadcasts LIVE for 6 hours tonight from Waverly Hills Sanitarium, just outside of Louisville in southwestern Jefferson County.

Waverly Hills, one of the leading tuberculosis centers in America in the 20th century, was the site of some 63,000 deaths.

This is the Ghost Hunters' second visit to Waverly Hills; I happened to catch the first episode before we moved to Loueyville. Spooky stuff, indeed. Ghosts aside, the Sanitarium is moderately dilapidated and cuts a huge and imposing figure in the middle of the woods. Inside, the building is mapped with "death corridors"-- slides through which bodies were transported to the morgue to avoid spreading the disease through the main halls.

According to the Courier-Journal, the Ghost Hunters, it was one of the top places that they've investigated.

Check out the Ghost Hunters Sci-Fi page here, and the actual Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS) webpage here.

Personally, I'm hoping for a confirmed sighting... it would really put Louisville on the map with all the Coast-to-Coast with George Noory types. And that's exactly what we need to keep on keeping Louisville weird.

PS. Coast-to-Coast fans-- tonight is the annual "Ghost-to-Ghost" show withe former host Art Bell. Stay safe Art!

Paradise City?

The newest WHY Louisville t-shirt design features a retro-80's-tropics rendering that designates Loueyville as "Paradise City." According to the website:

Legend has it that Axl Rose wrote the song Paradise City about Louisville. Whether that's true or not, you'd have to ask Axl.

In what can only be called a triumphant example of uber-procrastination, Lou just spent W-A-Y too long on the internet trying to get to the bottom of this rumor.

"Paradise City" was ranked #453 on Rolling Stones' list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time and #21 on VH-1's Greatest Metal Songs of All Time.

Best that I can tell from the internets, Axl Rose, a Midwest boy from Lafayette, Indiana, has refrained from ever pegging down a true Paradise City. He's said that "the verses are more about being in the jungle; the chorus is like being back in the Midwest or somewhere." In my investigations, it's only been in the comments of websites like songfacts.com and answers.com that well meaning boosters of the city have set forth the idea that Paradise City is Loueyville.

On songfacts.com, Kelly from Louisville writes:

this great song is about louisville, kentucky... only tha greatest city on this
damn planet. Axl was a sensible guy, apparently. I named my dog after him.

Yes, our grass is green and, as far as I can tell, our girls are pretty and Loueyville is only four hours away from Lafayette, Indiana. But that's ALL the evidence that I can dig up on this urban legend.

Still think the shirt is cute though! $17.

Nothing to do with Looueyville #1: GO SOX!!

Welcome to a new series here at Loueyville.com-- the Nothing to Do With Loueyville (NTDWL) post, featuring stuff Lou just can't keep under her Derby Bonnet.

When the Red Sox won the Series in 2004, my four uncles went to my grandfather's grave the next day and adorned it with a commemorative T-shirt, cap, issue of the Boston Globe, and most memorably a note that just said: "They finally did it, Dad!"

Go Sox!

By the way, Lou has been on vacation... sorry for the radio silence.

Gene Expression Changes Related to Endocrine Function and Decline in Reproduction in Fathead Minnow (Pimephales promelas) after Dietary Methylmercury Exposure

... is the name of the first article on the list when I searched for "Hunter S. Thompson" using the Louisville Public Library's remote access to the JSTOR database.

Just thought I'd share.

By the way, I was searching for the cover article of the current issue of Rolling Stone, called "Growing up Gonzo: Portrait of Hunter S. Thompson as a Young Man."

More on that to come...

Not my Scene

Not sure how I feel about the Courier-Journal's new "Scene" section. According to today's newspaper:

Saturday's Scene always has been the place for reviews of restaurants and music. Now we've also got the best fashions, housewares and bargains.

Now sure, all big city newspapers have their Lifestyles sections, and the goods featured in the Style section of the NY Times makes the Courier-Journal's Scene look like "Miss Fannie Brown's Bargain and Swap Weekly." But still, the "deal of the day," for fashion/beauty director Christine Fellingham is a $320 tunic marked down to $75. Bargain?

The "hottest tailgaiting accessories" feature a $92 football jersey that looks like something you'd buy in Wal-Mart's maternity-wear section, layered over a $68 long-sleeved t-shirt. For the math-challenged, that's $160 worth of clothing that's going to end up smelling like stale beer from all those keg stands (which you may be able to avoid if your man is wearing the $44 Reef flip-flops with the bottle opener in the sole, pictured above) and being smeared with grease-paint from the chest-bump salutes of your fellow fans. Or rather, $160 worth of clothing if you don't wear pants, underwear, or shoes. Which, as we know, is a look that only works for Britney Spears.

I get that we're trying to build some Big City cred here in Loueyville, but must we adopt the Big City Bad with the Big City Good?

Friends of Lou?

Heyyyy... wait a doggone minute!!!

Lou, ever-aware of her status as unpaid and underappreciated cheerleader for her adopted city, decided to blog about Louisville's new civic relocation campaign: "Save a Life: Share Louisville." And when she pulled up the new website ShareLouisville, what should she find???

Join the Friends of Lou mailing list!

Buy a Friend of Lou t-shirt!

I am totally on board for selling the "Lou-ness" of Loueyville to anyone who will listen, but who's this other Lou person and why do they need friends? This Lou needs friends! There's only one Lou and she's writing this...

I'm deeply disturbed (and feel like I deserve a free, adorable "I [heart] Louisville... and that's not the bourbon talking" t-shirt -- size small-- and a link on the website, at the very least).

Loueyville readers, don't let me down. We all [heart] Louisville and believe in sharing the wealth, but let the Share Louisville folks know that there's only one Lou and she's been loving on the city since May (longer if you count the old blog). Email them at: info@sharelouisville.org

SDF: Airport Insecurity?

A few days ago, the crack TSA folks at Logan International Airport in Boston arrested at gunpoint a 19 year old MIT student for coming to the airport to pick up her boyfriend while wearing a t-shirt with a blinking computer panel on it. Note that she was not trying to get on a plane, just trying to pick up her man; she was, in fact, outside the terminal.

Star Simpson had come to the airport before school. She'd worn the shirt to show off her talents with circuitry because it was Career Day. On the back of the shirt it read: "Socket to Me" and "Course VI," MIT shorthand for the electrical engineering/comp sci combined major-- so basically her resume. She's an electronics expert, and she's even received a Congressional citation for her work in robotics. Did I mention that she is 19?

While she was standing outside the terminal, Simpson was approached by an armed trooper who was later joined by another trooper armed with a submachine gun. State Police Major Scott Pare, the airport's commanding officer said after she was arrested, "She’s lucky to be in a cell as opposed to the morgue."

In response to folks who insisted that the troopers did the right thing and that we should all feel lucky to have these hyper-vigilant security guys on the public payroll, Will Femia says in his Clicked column: "I might feel luckier if I thought they had the ability to recognize an actual bomb and not just freak out over everything that looks like a red wire/blue wire suspense scene from a Die Hard movie. God forbid another Shoey Shoebomber strolls through while everyone is dazzled by blinking lights."

In Loueyville news, Roommate has returned from nearly three weeks away and on Monday I helped him take back his rental car to the Louisville International Airport (SDF). I told him I'd wait in the passenger pick-up area (too cheap to pay the $1 parking fee), and if the security dudes came by and asked me to move on, I'd just keep "making the loop" until Roommate was ready.

Venerable Old Jalopy has been giving me some headaches lately. And while I idled in park right outside of baggage claim, Jalopy decided to act up. When Roommate finally showed up after 15 minutes or so (no security telling me to move on), I went to slip the shift into drive... and couldn't. He started up just fine, but no budging the shift from park.

Start it up-- mash the break-- try to shift. Nope. Over and over.

After some time, Roommate reasoned that if he disconnected the battery, the car may "reset" and forget that it hated me. So as I'm making phone calls to various VW help lines, Roommate is using my big Roadside Assistance Tool Kit to fiddle around with wires and plugs under the hood.

Finally, after three different calls to three different Volkswagen entities, a kind woman at the roadside assistance center informed me that, essentially, Jalopy has a “cheat code” to bypass whatever weird virus is causing his refusal to shift out of park. (Why is my car like an xBox game??) After two tries, Jalopy concedes, and we hit the road around an hour or so after I’d arrived at SDF.

I’m not complaining, necessarily; in my fragile, annoyed, and panicky state the last thing I needed was to be harassed by the Airport Fuzz. At Louis Armstrong International in New Orleans, even before 9/11, if you so much as shifted your car into park while you were waiting for an arriving passenger, you’d be visited by airport security and treated to a rap on the window and the admonition to “move along.”

A Louisville International? Bupkus.

Should it concern me that in the hour or so that the Jalopy vs. Lou & Roommate war raged on in the arrivals lane, a casual observer would have noted:

• A visibly disturbed woman behaving erratically.


• Aforementioned visibly disturbed woman speaking with animated frustration on her cell phone.


• The accomplice to the woman removing a black box from the trunk of the car; a box, that when opened, revealed a tangle of wires and tools.


• The accomplice tinkering around under the hood of the car and sparks flying on one occasion.
  

Methinks yes. It should concern me.

For all you VW Bug drivers, the cheat code is: Press the break 5 times, and on the fifth time hold it down. Turn the key ¼ turn and drag the gear shift to some phantom place between Neutral and Drive (this is hard to do). Then turn the key all the way and shift immediately into Drive. It works. It’s just hard.

O'Reilly's Sole Food: the Louisville Factor

If anyone ever asked me (so far they haven't) whose public scorn would I most welcome, Bill O'Reilly would be right near the top of that list. O'Reilly, Ann "Waaa! Why doesn't anyone declare a fatwa against me?" Coulter (answer: because you're irrelevant), Rush Limbaugh, the big W, Karl Rove (although that might make me piss my pants too), etc.

So I would like to extend a big, enthusiastic, Loueyville YOU GO GIRL! to Tamara Ikenberg of the Courier-Journal who was, according to this MSNBC.com article singled out for derision by O'Reilly for reporting on his recent bout with foot-in-mouth. I don't think he mentioned her by name (next time, Tamara! it's good to have goals!!), but he did mention the "Louisville Journal" as one of the many media outlets that have slandered him. Apparently everyone has taken out of context his words about the surprisingly good table manners and lack of "craziness" of the black guests at Sylvia's restaurant in NYC.

For the context, visit Media Matters (whom O'Reilly has likened to the Ku Klux Klan-- that's so cool!).