My Old Kentucky Home

I had a wild hair. Which is funny, because it's usually a stiff chin hair, not a wild hair, but whatever kind of hair it was, I went home over the 4th of July for a wedding reception. I had already declined my invitation many weeks before, but bored one Saturday, I discovered "cheap" tickets, so I plucked the hair or smoothed the hair or...I bought the ticket, okay.

It was a quick trip home, I'll admit that, but well worth it. I flew into Washington and out of Louisville, where the reception was held. I spent 1.5 days in Baltimore, if you can count the rush hour traffic from Dulles Airport, which we avoided by stopping in Washington D.C. for Angus burgers and beer. On Friday Chris and I set out early on a road trip to Louisville, Kentucky.


Instead of the typical mindset of having to get there as quickly as possible, we drove and when we wanted to stop, we did. Our first fun stop, was at a casino somewhere near Charleston, West Virginia (but not Charlestown races and slots like you hear on the commercials in Ohio). In 30 minutes, we lost $33 in a few slots, but mostly my fault at the craps table. I was able to annoy a bunch of old men when I showed up to the table and everyone passed the dice until they got to me, when I happily threw them for craps. Everyone loses! Woohoo!!

Back in the car and on the road a while longer, I saw a sign for Louisa (Kentucky), when I exclaimed, "that's where my great-grandparents were from! I was there once to see G.G.'s (great-grandmother) grave!" The genealogist in Chris couldn't resist, so we turned the car around and headed back for the exit and found our way to Louisa.
Once there, we trolled through town searching for a cemetery and finally stopped to ask someone. He gave me directions and we headed up a hill to find it. I had been to Louisa once before when I was probably around 10 years old. The area where my great-grandparents had their house was going to be flooded to turn into a park and we went down so we could see it one time, and for Grandpa and my Dad to see it one last time. We saw where the house used to stand and some bricks that once made up the one-room school house where my grandpa attended. On that trip we also visited G.G.'s grave and all that I could remember was that the grave was on a hill.


So Chris and I searched this small cemetery, looking at every headstone and plate in the grass, but found nothing. Back into town we stopped at a gas station for water, where Chris asked a customer about another cemetery. He gave us the locations of two others, which were more out of the way than the first. The largest of the three we visited, I was certain felt right, but after searching, we found nothing. Although we didn't find the graves, we did learn that one of our federal government officials came from Louisa. Pretty exciting.


On Saturday morning, for breakfast we met Chris' family, who had driven up from Tennessee, along with his daughter and son-in-law, the bride and groom. I just loved listening to them talk, because I love their accents. However, after not understanding something Chris said (his accent gets thicker the more he's around his family), I was corrected by his Mama that he didn't have an accent. Yes Ma'am!

The reception was Saturday. It was a burger bar and a local Louisville brew, with instructions to "wear whatever you're comfortable in." Perfect. I think weddings are overrated. The beer was wonderful and the burgers were delicious! Low key and no chicken dances. Nice job, Jen and Scott! Congratulations!

We visited the Louisville Slugger Museum and Factory and that was awesome. They had an exihibt where you could choose from 4 game-used bats to stand at a plate to swing or have your picture taken. Every kid was opting for Lou Gehrig's bat (or was it Mickey Mantle's?), but being the oddball Reds fan, I chose Johnny Bench's bat.


On Sunday, we went to Churchill Downs. Because of the holiday, it was free to get in. Completely confused on where we could sit to see the track out of the sun and how to bet on the races, we sought help. A lovely usher gave us seats for a very small tip, a card on how to bet, and the program for race day. We sat in "box" seats, which had a tv with the race and were directly in front of the room where the rich people stayed, with air conditioning, servers, tables, food, and drinks. They only came out to watch the races.


We bet on every race we saw. We knew nothing about the horses, but chose based on their names and sometimes their odds. Our math wasn't that great, but I think we came out almost even.

Here's to America's birthday and to chin hairs!

Drive My Car

After work today I wandered down to the end of my street to the Kurhaus, where they were having an antique car gathering. It's something called Wiesbaden's Older Timer (which is the German word for antique car) Rally. It was much different than any sort of antique car gathering in the States, but then again, this rally lasts the entire weekend, they drive them sort of in a parade, and I don't know what else.

Today was also a holiday in Germany, so for all I know the cars and their owners had been doing things all day. However, the owners weren't next to their cars, there was no one to ask questions, they weren't sitting in lawn chairs with Corvette leather coats, and chatting with other car owners. No, they were sitting drinking beer, wine, and champagne with other rich people.

Rich people looking rich and being rich.

As cool as some of these cars were, and as crazy as Germans generally are about their cars, they weren't as shiny or as fantastically clean as the old cars you see in the U.S. There were a lot of old Mercedes, a 1955 Astin Martin, a lot of Alpha Romeos, some Skodas, a Porshe, Jaquars, a few Rolls Royces, and one American car--a Cadilac. It was interesting to see the cars, because they were different--they weren't the roadsters, the T-birds, or the Model Ts you see in the U.S.. I had never seen an Astin Martin that I know of and the old Porshe was really cool. It seemed like the cars you see in old movies. Movies with rich people.

Old car, modern convenience--cord for an MP3 player.

The following car is the so-called ‘Aluminium Sculpture’, a 40/50 H.P. Phantom I Open Tourer from 1926. The first owner had been the Maharadscha of Nanpara in India. It's made of polished aluminum, 6 cylinder engline, and weighs 1, 815 lbs.