Historic home for sale in Georgetown. DNA probably approves this message.

From this ...

... to this.

Among other things, the past few weeks have been spent transitioning my mom into her new assisted living quarters at the Silvercrest development. She's up on the top floor. Remember when Silvercrest's future was uncertain? Now it's plush; as the Rutles sang, all you (or Matt Chalfant) need is cash.

Anyone looking for a home in the country? The house pictured in the first photo above is on the National Register of Historic Publican Places as the acreage where the Potable Curmudgeon was raised -- not, as was pointed out earlier, where I "grew up." The Paul Kiger Metro Group is listing it, and the pertinent information is available on-line. I hope the house lands in the right hands.

What a year, and it's only May.

Brewery events season starts now, with RiverRoots in Madison, and next weekend's Boomtown Ball. Next thing we know, it'll be Harvest Hellcoming. There's a downtown taproom business to reinvent, and last week, one of our cats (Veronica "Bugg" Buggsworth) passed away. She'll be missed.

Perhaps by autumn, there'll be time to properly mourn, but the curious thing about all of it is that mourning does not seem merited. Rather, new beginnings seem to be popping up everywhere. Amid the understandable disappointment as it pertains to Bank Street Brewhouse, there is a feeling of liberation and renewal. We tend to pay lip service to the need for change, but often find it difficult to embark on the journey, except that some times, the journey comes to you, whether you requested it, or not.

Many thanks for the many comments, memories and critiques. I'm trying to read and acknowledge each one; apologies if I've missed yours.

Let's talk about what the official Bicentennial celebration is ignoring.

The newspaper's Amanda Beam covered perhaps the most prominent example of New Albany's historical whitewashing back in May.

Race riots of July 1862

Powder kegs have a way of erupting with just the right spark. During the summer of 1862, embers of racial tensions flared in New Albany, igniting the city in a 30-hour uprising of violence and murder. For too long, the city had forgotten this race riot. The media back then may not have always been the most unbiased in their telling of the tale, leaving few accounts of the factual story. The aftermath of the destruction, and what precipitated it, may never really be known.

Like a phoenix, scattered bits of truth have a habit of rising out of the charred ashes of history. Local historian Pam Peters likes to sift through the ashes. Researching her book, “The Underground Railroad in Floyd County,” the New Albany resident unearthed glimpses of what happened during that day and a half of chaos. And, what she found casts a different kind of dark shadow on the history of this Ohio River town.

“I thought, why doesn’t our community know about this? Nobody ever talked about this or brought it up,” Peters said. “I just think it was too painful. People were embarrassed by it was my guess.”

So, in which civic closets would the late Howard Zinn go snooping to find all the other powder kegs that the likes of somnolent CeeSaw would prefer go unmentioned during this buffed and polished time in our celebratory lives?

How did those stodgy bearded white guys make all their money, anyway?

Ever wondered about working conditions in the steamboat yards or plate glass factories?

Recalling Judge Cody's remarks last week, who profited from dynamiting historic buildings like the Post Office and Court House?

It isn't too late for the People's History of New Albany to be at least partially documented and written.

When the prime legacy is that of a demolished building, you need to think very carefully.

The city of New Albany purchased the land from whichever entity inherited it after those nasty slumlords finally crashed, and it was made known that the plot would be transformed into a park for the approaching Bicentennial in 2013.

Naturally, we cannot afford to restore the corner to its appearance before the old post office was demolished to make room for a half-century of barrenness, although as a Bicentennial fundraising event, wouldn't it be clever to hold fictionalized show trials of New Albany's 1960's-era redevelopment cadres?

The obvious problem with the proposed name of Legacy Square is that it sounds far more like a senior assisted living complex than a commemorative Bicentennial park. I'd like to see the name changed to "Keep Rowing, Scribners Square" or "Nepotismal Square." For a more European touch, it might be "Free Needles and Condoms Square." But perhaps Councilman CeeSaw has other ideas:

My first bicentennial logo entry.

The seal of the Noble and Holy Order of the Knights of Labor, an imperfect group to be sure but New Albany's best hope before being crushed by that bastard Washington C. DePauw and his bought and paid for local government and media.