Sorry for the crazy lapse in updating. Whatever. I'll wax poetic about the wedding I attended this weekend later. For now, I have something to tell you.
I love Kentucky. I write this from the business center at the Hampton Inn in downtown Louisville, which I have even decided to start pronouncing like the locals do: "loo-ah-vull." I like Kentucky that much. It's extravagantly pretty. Where the landscape isn't heavily forested with deciduous bounty and pitted and scarred with hills and cliffs, it's carpeted as far as the eye can see with lush green grass pastures trodden by healthy young thoroughbreds and enclosed with brown split fences.
Kentucky is gorgeous. In late September, the temperature is about as close to perfect as it can get, with a light southerly breeze to bring the scent of still-blooming flowers to your nostrils. Kentucky is lovely.
Everyone here knows more about bourbon than anyone in St. Louis or Milwaukee knows about beer. I'm not a liquor person, but I have been completely obliged to taste the fruit of the Kentucky hills. Bourbon has a depth of flavor that is unrivalled in the world of liquor, and it all comes from within 150 miles of where I'm sitting.
From my short experience here, Kentuckians are startlingly friendly people. For example, I dropped off James and Adriana at the airport about an hour ago, and made a beeline for downtown. My plan, in case I haven't alerted you personally, is to stay in Louisville one extra night to take in the sights. It's a bit of a vacation for myself, as I am unemployed from this past Wednesday until next Monday, the second.
Anyway, I came into Louisville's beautiful downtown, and decided to take a lap before finding a hotel room. It's a Sunday afternoon, so I didn't expect to have any trouble finding a room anywhere, and I was right. After an eyefull of downtown, I pulled into the parking lot of the Hampton Inn, walked inside and inquired about a room. On my little circuit, I saw that downtown was bustling - alive with foot traffic - so I figured there was probably something going on.
To my relief, Dewey at the front desk was happy to tell me that the hotel had rooms available, but that they started at $145 a night. When he saw me shift my feet, he said, "for a ten dollar tip, I'll knock your room rate down to the UPS corporate rate of $69." I eagerly paid up, parked my rental for free, and hurried upstairs to deposit my bag.
Dewey is a fine representative of Hilton Hotels, Louisville, and Kentucky. I'm hoping that more people I meet today are like him.