Oh, Kentucky

The demonstration against SB1 is large. pic.twitter.com/ygtbtOCqkE

— Thomas F. Loftus (@TomLoftus_CJ) March 12, 2018

The governor on guns, on MSNBC: "You can't protect people from everything."

A number of Kentucky schools are anticipating absences Wednesday, and it has nothing to do with the start of the KHSAA boys' basketball tournament.

Rest in peace, Sandra Gale Thomas Stinson, Sebree native, former president of the Kentucky Association of Health Care Facilities and one-time vice chair of the Kentucky Democratic Party. “Sandra was a true believer in God, community involvement, dedicated to lifelong learning, and a loyal friend. AND UK Basketball—Go Big Blue!!"

The feds are investigating the Horse Cave police.

How much business vs. how many trees in Midtown Paducah?

Marshall County's oldest restaurant--age 71--goes to the highest bidder April 3.

Happy 35th to Roy's of Russellville.

No mo' Tokyo in O'boro.

Good jobs news from Bowling Green and Louisville.

Oh, Kentucky

A naked man in his 60s riding a moped.
A topless woman in her 40s shooting a Super Soaker.
The usual https://t.co/DKUaCzIAGU — @ALTONPHOTO

— Nate Chute (@nchute) July 30, 2017

The Sons of Confederate Veterans are appealing to march with their favorite flag in Paducah's (U.S.) Veterans Day Parade.

What's HUD doing for Kentucky? Working to improve access to affordable, quality and fair housing, extend broadband connectivity to low-income Americans, etc., says the field-office director in a road show.

If you missed the free black-lung screenings at the Sleep Inn in Middlesboro yesterday, NIOSH will be at the Harlan Walmart and Evarts later this week.

Hoptown elegy.

"There's so much more inside people like him than they ever gave him credit for."

Jail gardens like this one at the Clay County Detention Center seem to be all over the place now.

It really is great that there's a reporter at the Cynthiana Democrat who brings in breakfast for everyone in the place once a week.

The Hart County News-Herald also is hiring.

Elliott Pratt of The Bowling Green Daily News delivers an enjoyable update on doings with Kenny Perry.

Not endless ... but one more week in Louisville.

The Freakin' Weekend (1971)

Back in Hoptown ...

Since I left for Chicago, the Kentucky New Era has gone to a more straightforward, text-based TV listing. I think I like it.

Meanwhile, back in Chicago, we still haven't learned what happened to Lafe Coker after his U.S. Open collapse. Some of Mac Divot's golf-pro colleagues have been talking all week about how the size of the putting cup came to be ...

There are a couple of movies out in Chicago that I'm interested in ...

But neither is playing this weekend in Hoptown ...

So, back in Kentucky, I'll have to content my Evel Knievel craving this Independence Day weekend with this Robert F. Jones takeout from the July 5, 1971, Sports Illustrated. The whole thing is a lively, brisk read, and I do recommend reading it. But here's F. Jones's money sentence: "To the extent that America is a composite of dreams and desperation, Robert Craig Knievel fills the bill." And you can pretty much game out the whole tone of the article from that, and you would be correct.

Somebody smarter than Hoptown 1971 me, Chicago 1971 me and U.S.A. 2017 me all put together could take this collage of artifacts and assemble a pretty compelling post for the HP about how we got from that freakin' weekend to this one in America.

Something Robert Penn Warren Wrote That Did Not Win The Pulitzer

He won for fiction in 1947 for All the King's Men, and he won for poetry in 1958 for Promises: Poems 1954-1956. But Guthrie's Robert Penn Warren did not win for You, Emperors, and Others: Poems 1957-1960, which is where "Mother Makes the Biscuits" comes from. I don't care; I love it--plus, it's really hard to repeat.

Mother makes the biscuits,
Father makes the laws,
Grandma wets the bed sometimes,
Kitty-cats have claws.

Mother sweeps the kitchen,
Father milks the cow,
Grandpa leaves his pants unbuttoned,
Puppy-dogs bark, bow-wow.

All do as God intends,
The sun sets in the west,
Father shaves his chin, scrape-scrape,
Mother knows best.

Clap hands, children,
Clap hands and sing!
Hold hands together, children,
And dance in a ring,

For the green worm sings on the leaf,
The black beetle folds hands to pray,
And the stones in the field wash their faces clean
To meet break of day.

But we may see this only
Because all night we have stared
At the black miles past where stars are
Till the stars disappeared.