Though one doesn't have to go too far from Main St to see that the city has seen better days, industrial facilities still appear to be functioning and employing:
Old buildings have been given new lives with new businesses...
...or not.
The brick side of the now-closed Barbarella club reminded me of the most intense Male Gaze ever applied to a film's opening sequence:
I walked past Dylan's Heaven's Door facility without stopping inside, because I understand his foray into whiskey even less than his Christian Evangelical period.
On my way back to Main Street, I stopped off at Las Margaritas in the Highlands for some very good chicken mole.
Once back among the crowds, I went to a AAA Louisville Bats baseball game, with a great view of the field:
But I struggled to enjoy the experience, and I don't remember the score, because several rows to my left sat a group of 70-somethings who......heckled isn't the right word......screamed at the players with every pitch, with the stadium's ushers seemingly encouraging them. That's 250-300 pitches. I've been in the bleachers at old Yankee Stadium and Wrigley Field, but have never heard such a barrage of incoherent misplaced rage. White Boomers harassing Gen Z, mostly people of color, free from consequences for two-and-a-half hours? It was like watching a Maga hat masturbate.
I left Louisville the next day, but not without stopping at a Total Wine first, because I clearly hadn't weighed down my trunk with enough bottles already, then drove straight home......okay maybe I stopped off at Neeley Distillery for a bottle of absinthe.
It was a smooth sunny drive. Yes, now that my vacation had finished, the rain clouds had retired to the Atlantic Ocean. Upon returning home, I set out all my purchases in the hallway, feeling simultaneously angry and proud of myself. My cat, pissed off at me even though she had been spoiled by the cat sitter, parked herself between the bottles and me for the rest of the night, like the queen she is.
The next day was Saturday, a day of acting and dancing recitals from my amazing girls, and an evening with friends, from whom I received a pour of the dusty gem that will begin my return to whisky reviews next week.
