Our trip to see Cyndi’s family in southern Indiana took us thru Houston and IAH’s third world terminal servicing Alabama, Arkansas, Kentucky and the rest of the western southeast. You know, the kind of terminal with eight “gates” sharing one gate number, poorly shaved transvestites scaring children and where you walk across the tarmac in the rain to climb up a staircase with only one handrail to enter a plane built in an actual third world country. The plane was quite nice, the terminal not so much.
Upon arrival in Louisville we first headed to see Cyndi’s mother Jeannie, who I immediately soaked with a bottle of seltzer water. I hadn’t realized the grocery stores pre-shook the bottles and I wasn’t intentionally pointing it at Jeannie, I was just pointing it away from me. Jeannie is a much better person than me and had no hard feelings, especially since we brought food and I brought her daughter.
The next day before we headed towards Lexington to tour the Woodford bourbon distillery, we stopped for lunch at a sports bar in New Albany. The lunch was tasty and the 40+ year old short-skirted waitresses attentive but I was disconcerted to read the sign on the back of the bathroom’s door suggesting cleanliness to the employees1.
The ride to Woodford’s was comfortable and there was a useful sign on the freeway telling us which exit to use, but after that we were on our own. We relied on Google maps to wander 45 minutes thru horse country with white wooden fences everywhere which seemed to fence trees in and people out. Google got us to Versailles, KY but then basically said “you’re on your own from here on”. After a couple aborted searches I stopped to ask directions of a local and he laughed and introduced me to an albino tire installation engineer with robin’s egg blue eyes without pupils and he giggled as well. They finally decided that if I went “that way” and turned right at the right time, we would find Woodford’s. Hoping for more of a clue, I asked “roughly how far” and the tire mechanic shrugged and guessed 5 miles. Maybe 12.
It turned out to be around 7 miles and hidden, but in spite of this the distillery was well visited and they had to add a second 3pm tour for us and the other stragglers. The tour was fun, especially the sampling at the end. I learned their water came from a “deep well” about 45 feet down thru the limestone that filtered out iron and heavy ions but added calcium which contributes to the unique flavor of Woodford’s and the calciated water helps horses grow strong bones, which contributes to the Kentucky horse’s superior racing abilities.
When Cyndi and I passed thru this area on our move to California 15 years ago, we saw the Heaven Hill distillery burn to the ground and the rolling, flaming casks of bourbon were beautiful to watch, but the waste of liquor was horrible to see. We asked if they would burn a barrel for us and I guess they would have but we would have to buy the barrel first and that would cost like $15k and so we stuck with our Heaven Hill memories.
The next day Cyndi’s sister, brother-in-law, aunt and uncle-in-law showed us around Louisville then took us to the Bernheim Arboretun. Unfortunately it was just about two weeks too early in the spring and only a few flowers were out and the trees were still bare, but beekeepers let us pet their queens and stick shapers lets us stroke their sticks (really, I’m serious). Jeff (the uncle-in-law) and I climbed to the top of the fire tower at the highest point in the park and the docent showed us downtown Louisville thru a gap in the Kentucky hills, Fort Knox in the near distance and explained how differential erosion in the limestone formations created the knobs in front of us. I tried my best to see the hills.
In a really dirty trick, Betty (Cyndi’s sister) and six other relatives scheduled their birthdays within a week of our arrival and they had a huge family birthday party at Betty’s. They claimed 47 people attended but I’m pretty sure it was a lot closer to 100. And while I was in a daze trying to keep track of names and relationships (and gave up on this quite quickly), I felt bad for the one young boy attempting to play with his 17 girl cousins. I guess all the fertile females in this clan sleep on their right side.
On the last day of my visit, Cyndi and I drove across the flat limestone deposits2 to see the Indiana ski runs3 and the Spa at Paoli, which was lovely and much larger than expected, seemingly larger than the hill that provided a backdrop. We went on a few feet further to French Lick and drove past their high school on Larry Bird Drive. Larry Bird is not only one of the all time great basketball players but a very good human as well and it is nice to see him honored, but I wonder how the it feels as a student to arrive at school each day to be reminded that the one truly great person to graduate from this high school has already graduated.
At lunchtime we returned to Cordyn, Indiana’s first Capital and home of Butt Drugs. 40% of Cordyn’s surface area is cemetery and something like 35% of the residents are in nursing homes. Cyndi wants to move here and while they do have a WalMart and a Culvers and Cracker Barrel and all the usual fast food places, they lack a Sonic Burger and that is a deal breaker for me.
We ate at Magdalena’s Restaurant on Cordyn’s main square and as we entered a woman about 68 years old eating by herself and who later proved to be demented threw down her salad fork, rushed over, embraced Cyndi and said “Honey, you look just like my older sister”. This is a story I shall repeat often. Ms Dementia then went to all the patrons in the restaurant and told them to move away from the windows because a tornado was coming (it wasn’t, at least not that day) and warning those finished with lunch not to leave or they would get washed away in the flood or blown away by the wind (it was just raining) and sat muttering to herself as people tried to ignore her. Perhaps I look that demented to Cyndi and she feels Cordyn is the right place for me?
1 These signs in California are much more assertive, typically saying “Employees must wash hands before returning to work” and often include a picture showing hands washing, but even this can be misconstrued. I recently observed a restaurant employee enter the washroom, wash his hands, then use the facilities which does technically comply with the stated sanitary regulation, if not its intention. As we had just finished lunch, I thought it best not to immediately relate this story to Cyndi.
2 Of course, limestone is deposited at the bottom of seas and since today this part of Indiana is roughly 700 feet above sea level, there must have been considerable uplift to get the limestone to this height, yet it is perfectly level with no folding and no tilting. I found this interesting and subsequent research revealed that in fact the limestone dips ½ degree from Cincinnati in the east to the Mississippi valley in the west and was uplifted when North America smashed into Europe 220 million years ago. Apparently Indiana was far enough away from the carnage to avoid folding. Since then there has been additional local 200’ vertical displacements of bits of limestone and Geologists love to argue about whether some bits were further uplifted or other bits subsided. It must be exciting to be a Geologist.
2 Skiing is listed by the state as their number one tourist attraction, with watching the Amish second. I need not comment further.
Upon arrival in Louisville we first headed to see Cyndi’s mother Jeannie, who I immediately soaked with a bottle of seltzer water. I hadn’t realized the grocery stores pre-shook the bottles and I wasn’t intentionally pointing it at Jeannie, I was just pointing it away from me. Jeannie is a much better person than me and had no hard feelings, especially since we brought food and I brought her daughter.
The next day before we headed towards Lexington to tour the Woodford bourbon distillery, we stopped for lunch at a sports bar in New Albany. The lunch was tasty and the 40+ year old short-skirted waitresses attentive but I was disconcerted to read the sign on the back of the bathroom’s door suggesting cleanliness to the employees1.
The ride to Woodford’s was comfortable and there was a useful sign on the freeway telling us which exit to use, but after that we were on our own. We relied on Google maps to wander 45 minutes thru horse country with white wooden fences everywhere which seemed to fence trees in and people out. Google got us to Versailles, KY but then basically said “you’re on your own from here on”. After a couple aborted searches I stopped to ask directions of a local and he laughed and introduced me to an albino tire installation engineer with robin’s egg blue eyes without pupils and he giggled as well. They finally decided that if I went “that way” and turned right at the right time, we would find Woodford’s. Hoping for more of a clue, I asked “roughly how far” and the tire mechanic shrugged and guessed 5 miles. Maybe 12.
It turned out to be around 7 miles and hidden, but in spite of this the distillery was well visited and they had to add a second 3pm tour for us and the other stragglers. The tour was fun, especially the sampling at the end. I learned their water came from a “deep well” about 45 feet down thru the limestone that filtered out iron and heavy ions but added calcium which contributes to the unique flavor of Woodford’s and the calciated water helps horses grow strong bones, which contributes to the Kentucky horse’s superior racing abilities.
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| Jeff, Cyndi, Peggy, Betty, Trent |
In a really dirty trick, Betty (Cyndi’s sister) and six other relatives scheduled their birthdays within a week of our arrival and they had a huge family birthday party at Betty’s. They claimed 47 people attended but I’m pretty sure it was a lot closer to 100. And while I was in a daze trying to keep track of names and relationships (and gave up on this quite quickly), I felt bad for the one young boy attempting to play with his 17 girl cousins. I guess all the fertile females in this clan sleep on their right side.On the last day of my visit, Cyndi and I drove across the flat limestone deposits2 to see the Indiana ski runs3 and the Spa at Paoli, which was lovely and much larger than expected, seemingly larger than the hill that provided a backdrop. We went on a few feet further to French Lick and drove past their high school on Larry Bird Drive. Larry Bird is not only one of the all time great basketball players but a very good human as well and it is nice to see him honored, but I wonder how the it feels as a student to arrive at school each day to be reminded that the one truly great person to graduate from this high school has already graduated.
At lunchtime we returned to Cordyn, Indiana’s first Capital and home of Butt Drugs. 40% of Cordyn’s surface area is cemetery and something like 35% of the residents are in nursing homes. Cyndi wants to move here and while they do have a WalMart and a Culvers and Cracker Barrel and all the usual fast food places, they lack a Sonic Burger and that is a deal breaker for me.
We ate at Magdalena’s Restaurant on Cordyn’s main square and as we entered a woman about 68 years old eating by herself and who later proved to be demented threw down her salad fork, rushed over, embraced Cyndi and said “Honey, you look just like my older sister”. This is a story I shall repeat often. Ms Dementia then went to all the patrons in the restaurant and told them to move away from the windows because a tornado was coming (it wasn’t, at least not that day) and warning those finished with lunch not to leave or they would get washed away in the flood or blown away by the wind (it was just raining) and sat muttering to herself as people tried to ignore her. Perhaps I look that demented to Cyndi and she feels Cordyn is the right place for me?
1 These signs in California are much more assertive, typically saying “Employees must wash hands before returning to work” and often include a picture showing hands washing, but even this can be misconstrued. I recently observed a restaurant employee enter the washroom, wash his hands, then use the facilities which does technically comply with the stated sanitary regulation, if not its intention. As we had just finished lunch, I thought it best not to immediately relate this story to Cyndi.
2 Of course, limestone is deposited at the bottom of seas and since today this part of Indiana is roughly 700 feet above sea level, there must have been considerable uplift to get the limestone to this height, yet it is perfectly level with no folding and no tilting. I found this interesting and subsequent research revealed that in fact the limestone dips ½ degree from Cincinnati in the east to the Mississippi valley in the west and was uplifted when North America smashed into Europe 220 million years ago. Apparently Indiana was far enough away from the carnage to avoid folding. Since then there has been additional local 200’ vertical displacements of bits of limestone and Geologists love to argue about whether some bits were further uplifted or other bits subsided. It must be exciting to be a Geologist.
2 Skiing is listed by the state as their number one tourist attraction, with watching the Amish second. I need not comment further.