Part One: The Bad News
It is with great embarrassment that I must start this post with a couple of confessions. First, my bike trip to “Little Louisville” wasn’t nearly as exciting as I made it sound in the title. Second, there IS no “Little Louisville” in MY Town.
I guess I got too caught up in bragging about how MY Town had neighborhoods representing the homeland of every Cycle365-er. I’m ashamed to admit it but, unlike all the REAL places in my last six posts, I was going to totally MAKE UP a visit to “Little Louisville.” It would have been a total whopper of “alternative facts” worthy of an accomplished liar such as . . . well, you probably know who I’m referring to.
Therefore, I apologize to the entire Cycle-365 community, and especially to Laura. Of course, Laura would have seen right through my attempts at fakery anyway because she knows that no sane Kentuckian would ever relocate to cold Minnesota.
Part Two: The Good News
Even though MY Town doesn’t have a Louisvillian community, that doesn’t mean I don’t know a whole lot of stuff about that great city. So I’m going to use the rest of this post to share a few personal stories related to Louisville. (Oh yeah, and also to show some pictures of collections for the December Challenge.)
STORY #1: One of the things I’ve always known about Louisville is that Mohammed Ali (see featured photo) grew up there. He was my favorite boxer of all time. In fact, he was the only boxer that I ever cared one iota over whether he won or lost a fight. I watched several of his boxing matches in their entirety, including the “Thrilla in Manilla.” He was one cool cool guy who I admired for reasons beyond his boxing skill. Has any boxer — or any athlete at all — come up with a better line than “I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee?”
STORY #2: The Kentucky Derby takes place every year in Louisville. Horse racing, like boxing, has never been one of my favorite sports, but one year, for whatever reason, I remember paying quite a bit of attention to it. I watched hour after hour of pre-race coverage. Horse owners and jockeys and oddsmakers were interviewed. The individual horses were analyzed ad nauseum. It was like the Superbowl. It was like a presidential election. It was nuts. Then the start of the big race finally came. Three minutes later, it was over.
STORY #3: In my college days I immersed myself in reading the classics of literature because I saw too many lists of “great books one should read before you die.” I enjoyed many of them, and others were just plain tedious. But none of the classics were as fun to read as the works of Louisville’s own Hunter S. Thompson. He was, and still is, one of my favorite writers. I might add, his story called “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved” is one of the craziest and funniest things I’ve ever read.
Part Three: A Few December Collections
Once again, I apologize for the non-Louisville transgression and for the messiness of the entire post. Next time I will try to redeem myself with a visit to MY Town’s Baltimore-Washington, DC corridor.