Less than two weeks ago, I picked up a page-turning
unauthorized biography of Diana Ross ("Call Her Miss
Ross") in a Georgetown, Kentucky antique shop for a
whopping $1.
The book, which dealt largely with "The Supremes",
touched on some of my favorite reading material when
it mentioned the story of Florence Ballard: riches to
rags. People say that they like "rags to riches" stories,
but I believe that they would rather read just the
opposite. I find these downfalls, collapses and sudden
(or gradual) drifts into obscurity just fascinating.
Therefore, it was no surprise when I turned my
attention from the obviously successfuly, obviously
bi-polar Diana to poor (literally) Flo Ballard and the
city that made and broke her. What I discovered was
nothing short of astonishing, sad and transfixing.
Who surives in this?
I've just returned from beautiful Portland and its
larger yet somehow-still-attractive sister of Seattle.
I've seen the beauty in San Diego sunsets and areas
of Atlanta that scream magnificent. But now Detroit
is on the brain.
Since we humans are drawn to train wrecks, I want
to someday go to Michigan's largest city and see
firsthand what happens when one million people leave
an area over a fifty-year period. I want to see what
made its new mayor (the one who didn't have phone
sex) order the destruction of over ten thousand
abandoned buildings within the city limits.
Take a good look at Detroit Urbex and understand
why historic preservation is about sooo much more
than who lived and died where. It's all about the
living--and their surroundings, too.
Ready for the road trip? Life insurance policy? Check.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Grim, Ghastly Grind of Kentucky and Her Politics.
In 1955, the United States Senate decided to pay homage to
only five distinguished members via prominently-displayed
paintings in the Senate chambers. Then-U.S. Senator John F.
Kennedy and his appointed committee were tasked with the
large responsibility of selecting the great statesmen.
JFK probably didn't have to search long before finding one of
the five in Kentucky's long-gone Henry Clay. It pains me to think
that most likely four out of five graduates of Lexington's Henry
Clay High School couldn't tell you anything that their school's
namesake did. Yet, I'll spare you the lesson and direct you to
Wikipedia or a book about life in the United States leading up to
the Civil War.
Don't all rush to Borders at once.
It has been quite a while (if at all) since Kentucky has put out a
Senator (or hell, any state-wide politician, for that matter) with
half of the saavy, courage and eloquence of Henry Clay. Let's take a
look at what my native state has offered lately.
Jim Bunning, elected to the Senate in 1999, reached the office due
largely to his popularity as a former professional baseball player.
Unfortunately, ol' Jim (and I do mean old; he's about 200) somehow
got traded from the Phillies to the Senate and ended up playing for
the Northern Kentucky Seniles. When he wasn't telling people that he
only watches FOX News for information, comparing an opponent to
"one of Saddam Hussein's sons" or predicting the death of Justice
Ginsburg within nine months (sorry, Senator; she's still with us),
Bunning wasn't doing much else. His bizarre behavior made him a
joke among his own electorate, which basically fired him by not
providing any re-election funding. Shady Pines, Jim.
Rand Paul is running as a Republican to replace Gramps. Unless
you've been living in a cave, you'll remember Paul's remarks about
1960's civil rights legislation being unneccessary, drugs not being a
problem in Eastern Kentucky (riiiight) and creating his own
ophthalmology board so that he could call himself a 'certified
ophthalmologist'. Basically, Rand Paul is a less-athletic, far-less
native younger version of the decrepit Jim Bunning.
And polls show that he is leading the Senate race by as much as 15%.
If you know the typical Kentucky voter like I do, this isn't all that
surprising. Kentucky voters are often 'triggered' by pro-gun politicians
and tend to 'abort' anyone remotely pro-choice. In doing so, they are
tossing away the capable Jack Conway, whom they see as Louisville
elitist, fancy-school educated and--shhhh--liberal. Yet, Jack isn't really
much of a catch. He might be articulate and attractive, but he has the
enthusiam of a 60 year-old man at his first prostate screnening and he
relates to rural Kentuckians in a Leona Helmsley kind of way. Still, I'll
vote for him because I'd rather take a snob than a yutz. *sigh*
Closer to home, we have learned that State Senate President David
Williams wants to become Kentucky's next governor. He looks (and acts)
like an evil swamp frog, and since he knew that he couldn't make it on
his own, he dragged the hapless Richie Farmer on stage as his candidate
for lieutenant governor.
Ah, yes. Agricultural Commissioner Farmer, who was elected to his
current office in 2003 after being out of the spotlight for nearly 20 years.
Some of you who find the Kentucky voter ridiculous and lacking in common
sense might think that he was elected out of nowhere based on his convenient
last name--but how dare you. We're much further along than that, thank you
very much.
We'll have you know that our Richie Farmer was Kentucky's 1988 "Mr. Basketball".
A modern-day Henry Clay, don't you think?
only five distinguished members via prominently-displayed
paintings in the Senate chambers. Then-U.S. Senator John F.
Kennedy and his appointed committee were tasked with the
large responsibility of selecting the great statesmen.
JFK probably didn't have to search long before finding one of
the five in Kentucky's long-gone Henry Clay. It pains me to think
that most likely four out of five graduates of Lexington's Henry
Clay High School couldn't tell you anything that their school's
namesake did. Yet, I'll spare you the lesson and direct you to
Wikipedia or a book about life in the United States leading up to
the Civil War.
Don't all rush to Borders at once.
It has been quite a while (if at all) since Kentucky has put out a
Senator (or hell, any state-wide politician, for that matter) with
half of the saavy, courage and eloquence of Henry Clay. Let's take a
look at what my native state has offered lately.
Jim Bunning, elected to the Senate in 1999, reached the office due
largely to his popularity as a former professional baseball player.
Unfortunately, ol' Jim (and I do mean old; he's about 200) somehow
got traded from the Phillies to the Senate and ended up playing for
the Northern Kentucky Seniles. When he wasn't telling people that he
only watches FOX News for information, comparing an opponent to
"one of Saddam Hussein's sons" or predicting the death of Justice
Ginsburg within nine months (sorry, Senator; she's still with us),
Bunning wasn't doing much else. His bizarre behavior made him a
joke among his own electorate, which basically fired him by not
providing any re-election funding. Shady Pines, Jim.
Rand Paul is running as a Republican to replace Gramps. Unless
you've been living in a cave, you'll remember Paul's remarks about
1960's civil rights legislation being unneccessary, drugs not being a
problem in Eastern Kentucky (riiiight) and creating his own
ophthalmology board so that he could call himself a 'certified
ophthalmologist'. Basically, Rand Paul is a less-athletic, far-less
native younger version of the decrepit Jim Bunning.
And polls show that he is leading the Senate race by as much as 15%.
If you know the typical Kentucky voter like I do, this isn't all that
surprising. Kentucky voters are often 'triggered' by pro-gun politicians
and tend to 'abort' anyone remotely pro-choice. In doing so, they are
tossing away the capable Jack Conway, whom they see as Louisville
elitist, fancy-school educated and--shhhh--liberal. Yet, Jack isn't really
much of a catch. He might be articulate and attractive, but he has the
enthusiam of a 60 year-old man at his first prostate screnening and he
relates to rural Kentuckians in a Leona Helmsley kind of way. Still, I'll
vote for him because I'd rather take a snob than a yutz. *sigh*
Closer to home, we have learned that State Senate President David
Williams wants to become Kentucky's next governor. He looks (and acts)
like an evil swamp frog, and since he knew that he couldn't make it on
his own, he dragged the hapless Richie Farmer on stage as his candidate
for lieutenant governor.
Ah, yes. Agricultural Commissioner Farmer, who was elected to his
current office in 2003 after being out of the spotlight for nearly 20 years.
Some of you who find the Kentucky voter ridiculous and lacking in common
sense might think that he was elected out of nowhere based on his convenient
last name--but how dare you. We're much further along than that, thank you
very much.
We'll have you know that our Richie Farmer was Kentucky's 1988 "Mr. Basketball".
A modern-day Henry Clay, don't you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)