Council aims to please: Joyfully short meeting permits not one but two Progressive Pints at Connor’s Place afterwards.

Clocking in at 40 minutes flat, last evening’s council soiree was among the shortest in recent memory, with only a few instances of gladitorial wariness and the faintest glint of the long knives yet to come.

Having sent away the tigers much earlier in the day, there is little this correspondent can say about the meeting, and so we’ll rely on the Tribune’s Eric Scott Campbell for a report.

I do seem to recall a random outburst of childlike glee on the part of 1st district councilman Dan Coffey whilst musing aloud at the demise of a stormwater drainage troika whose meetings he never attended in his capacity as council liaison; an effort (later withdrawn after advice by counsel) by the 5th district’s Bev Crump to appoint a new drainage board member; and a bittersweet coda by soon-to-be-retired 2nd district councilman Bill Schmidt, who in the fashion of meandering and self-indulgent prog-rock drum solos from the thankfully passed 1970s, offered a poignant yet gritty soliloquy on one of his favorite topics, the funding of the parking garage at State and Market.

In recognition of this two-hankie moment, CM Schmidt is awarded the “NA Confidential Quote of the Night” trophy, which entitles the bearer to a free six-pack of Coffey’s Bazooka Joe U. engineering certificates:

“There’s not gonna be any slush fund,” barked Schmidt.

As the late, lamented political analyst Madeline Kahn once observed, “it’s twoo … it’s twoo.”

High Noon in the Romper Room as “Even Deeper Throat” tells all.

Readers, please know that while the following might be filed under satire, Even Deeper Throat is in fact a real person, not a fictional creation; his comments have been incorporated here in an effort to provoke discussion, and are not necessarily those of the author. What do you think? New Albany's city council meets this evening ... and here's the sparse agenda. Bring sunscreen (for repelling the harmful glow cast by the Glimmer Twins), a seat cushion and your sedative of choice.

----

There are times when New Albany’s perpetual sewage follies seem to surpass daily human understanding in a manner that invites immediate, involuntary psychotherapy. Consider this relevant passage in a 1993 Art Journal commentary; it's not for the squeamish:

Freud argued that feces, as matter that comes from within oneself and then becomes matter outside and thus independent of oneself, is recognized by the child as his "creation." In this recognition, the child frequently uses feces for love, offering it up as a gift to those for whom he cares. As something which he makes and which becomes his own (and is not bestowed on him externally), the child perceives of feces as personal property that defines independence. The child also recognizes that this substance, often problematically received by the world, can be used aggressively, as a weapon. Thus a child's sense of mastery, power, and defiance derives initially from manipulation of excrement.

The last sentence deserves an encore:

Thus a child's sense of mastery, power, and defiance derives initially from manipulation of excrement.

But in New Albany, sewage isn’t so much a weapon as it is the ultimate excuse. When it comes to the sewer utility, successive generations of local elected officials are like the Welsh and Scottish sin-eaters of olden times, absorbing the procrastination, sloth and expedience of their predecessors, and then being ritually absolved in turn by the next wave of unimaginative caretakers, and so we find ourselves as a city always in the position of fighting previous battles, and always using the urgency of unfurnished previous business to explain why we can’t look into the future or plan for anything beyond the shortfall to come.

And that’s because when it is least expected, the Grim Reaper, otherwise known as the wielder of the dictates of the court-ordered consent degree, summarily demands a huge pile of money, and amid much wailing and gnashing of teeth, a check for the interest is cut, the principle remains untouched, Band-Aids are applied, and having spared the citizenry the unfathomable burden of another couple bucks a month, another election cycle makes its merry way through their craniums, much cheap beer is consumed, BBQ bologna is tossed merrily from second-floor windows, and God is thanked yet again for overlooking us.

Doesn't "He" ever.

----

Sewers and storm water, budgets and no-bid contracts, grandstanding and stand-up commedy, resolutions and overturned vetoes, chaos and rancor, marriages of convenience and battlefield divorces … and right up front, the Odd Couple holds sway.

Verily, it is next to impossible to attribute purity of motive to an inveterate, self-serving ward heeler like 1st district councilman Dan Coffey, so how to explain the scruffy and vainglorious Wizard’s current agenda-sharing partnership with the 6th district’s affable Jeff Gahan?

After all, during three years of council service together, the two routinely have been at odds. Moreover, CM Gahan is everything his amok counterpart is not: He’s educated, polite, reasonable, and as close to progressive-minded as any single person presently serving in local government at any level.

How to explain the cognitive dissonance engendered by this seemingly irreconcilable tableau?

One interpretation of the situation comes to us from the lips of Even Deeper Throat, an apparent insider, who last week agreed to a surreptitious meeting at the rear of the buggy whip factory located atop the parking garage at State and Market.

Dodging distracted commuters, Even Deeper Throat explained it this way:

There has been some criticism of the council due to personalities and boy, do I understand it. I do not think that many realize how important the vote was (last) Saturday. I think it was the most important vote of the past four years. This was the council starting to take back control of the city finances from the sewer board. Next year we will have a much better council. Getting the sewers under the council control is very important. I have looked at all of the figures of their monies (believe me it is not a budget), except for their "special projects" which are mostly expansion of sewer lines into the fringe and the county, they operate about 2.5 million in the black each year.

Peering over the guardrail, I could see Pat Harrison's picket line. Her sign read, "HOW ABOUT WELFARE FOR SLUMLORDS -- FOR A CHANGE." I lamented the death of irony in America as Even Deeper Throat continued:

Once they are under control, the council will have the money to do great things for this city. Once they solve the sewer issue there will be money to fix all of the streets, which are in the worst condition I have ever seen), hire more inspectors (I doubt twenty though), and make room for special lanes for those that enjoy two wheeled transportation. I am of the opinion that the sewer board has been holding this city back (and up) for a long time and if things work out the way I am hoping there could be a very bright future for the city during the next ten years.

We continued to chat while walking to a handy park bench across from the sewage treatment plant, which smelled of lilacs and brand new automotive interiors on a brutally hot day. What about that cognitive dissonance? Giving the benefit of the doubt to Gahan, could it be possible that Coffey, too, is somehow sincere, and if so, how do we go about detecting trustworthiness behind the numerous chips of acrimony resting on the Wizard’s slumped shoulders? Do they make Geiger counters that strong? Are hazmat suits recommended? If we come into contact with the unadulterated bile, will it leave an unsightly blemish on our favorite Kochertian leotards?

Deep Throat thoughtfully drew from his Gauloise, and paused before answering:

It is just that the issue cuts across all lines, which makes for an odd alliance. Kochert and Zurschmiede are sewer board members first and council members second. Messer wants to be chief. Coffey needs an audience. Blevins needs to learn to read the ordinances before he votes on them. Crump needs development. Price needs to get rid of cell phones and Schmidt needs his medicine.

As Even Deeper Throat connected the dots, I saw a huge, carcass-engorged groundhog slithering across the grounds of the treatment plant across Main Street. Upon further examination, I was surprised to see that it was two women in conjoined full camouflage, crawling in the underbrush with an infrared camera in tow and a Big Chief tablet in hand.

Meanwhile, my chain-smoking informant was by no means finished. I needed to understand how the Friday afternoon massacre and the veto override went hand in hand to explain the “strange coalition” between Coffey and Gahan.

The stormwater board went too far. Even Messer said so at the last meeting and was willing to vote for court action against them but not the sewer board. When the sanitation department was eliminated there were months of public debate in the papers and at council meetings. The storm water board did the same with no warning at all and it took everyone by surprise. The reaction should have been obvious but it was not to inexperienced board members.

Was that Donald Sutherland and Kevin Costner speeding past on the way to uncounted riches at Caesar’s? And if the city council refuses jurisdiction over the fringe area to forestall sewer construction, does that mean that enterprising businessmen are free to erect high-dollar “gentlemen’s clubs” there so long as they’re connected to septic tanks? Even Deeper Throat concluded:

Gahan had to let Coffey take the lead on these issues, in fact he told him he had to. Gahan understands that it is better to let Coffey take the lead from that side of the table in order to gain the support that is needed to make the necessary changes. I believe it was Churchill who said that he would jump into bed with the devil himself (Stalin) to rid the world of Hitler. There has to be some postering and odd alliances to do, in the end, what is right for the city.

As the ghost of LBJ descended in the odiferous gloaming, we parted ways. It was late, and the hop juice was calling.

Sorry to say ... told ya so.

NA-FC Parks leader Bill Koehler resigns position (Tribune).

This is a huge loss to the community, if for no other reason (although there are many others) than the ex-Marine Koehler's ability to walk purposefully into the council chamber, and deploying nothing more than a natural commanding presence, reduce Councilman Cappuccino to respectful silence.

We need much, much more of that around here.

Endangered Slumlord Protection Act? Local rental property mogul and realtor cites a “pitiful” absence of tax breaks.

Back on August 12, the Tribune’s Chris Morris heeded the squeaky realtor’s wheel and considered the outer limits of the “American dream” (unlimited-horizon-free, New Albany-style):

Rental property owners in Clark, Floyd counties say enough is enough.

The idea sounds like a winner. You buy property, fix it up, find someone to rent it, and then sit back and collect the monthly check.

However, it’s not quite that simple, according to local Realtor Pat Harrison. In fact, she said what used to be the American dream of owning property has turned into a nightmare for many. The reason, she said, is property owners are being taxed to death.

“This state is not giving any kind of tax break on commercial and investment property. It’s pitiful,” Harrison said.

Chris didn't intend to be insightful, but his line, "sit back and collect the monthly check," is a classic.

Why do we get the sneaking suspicion that the next grinding trench warfare phase of trying to bring New Albany’s enduring “slumlord protection program” into line with the dictates of the 21st century will inevitably revolve around fanatical opposition (vigilance with Bics in hand, just itching to flick) to absolutely necessary rental inspection reform, on the spurious grounds that extreme poverty caused by Harrison’s “pitiful” absence of tax breaks should absolve owners of adhering to community standards?

We can hear the tune already, and it is discordant -- and dysfunctional -- as ever.

On the merits of Boblessness: Inject entrepreneurialism into New Albany’s Riverfront Amphitheater, and restore value to a mismanaged community asset.

It is often the case that seemingly unconnected occurrences, when permitted to ferment in the subconscious for a period of time, coalesce to produce thematic unity. Unfortunately, for those of us choosing to reside in New Albany, these moments of lucidity tend to be the impetus for numbing depression and hurried solace within the closest available bottle.

Then again, perhaps I’m confusing my own Pavlovian reactions with those of the populace in general, but I can explain.

----

On Saturday afternoon, the trial run of a festival dubbed Worlds of Flavor Bar-B-Q and Music Festival commenced at New Albany’s Riverfront Amphitheater and four designated eateries downtown.

As all those involved with the festival, myself included, will openly acknowledge, Worlds of Flavor was inadequately marketed and poorly publicized; furthermore, like many inaugural events, the first time out of the gate is about learning new skills, synthesizing experiences and modifying presentations to improve the odds of success in coming years.

Make no mistake: Chief organizer Mike Kopp deserves substantial kudos for getting the ball rolling, and speaking only for myself, I’m perfectly willing to make a public pledge of more time personally expended and some of my company's money to expand and improve upon a good idea in 2008.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained” is an axiom with supreme relevance in this instance, if for no other reason that an absence of like-minded chutzpah has been the prime contributing factor to New Albany’s enduring malaise. I’m supremely confident that we’ll do the Worlds of Flavor fest again, and we’ll do it better each time we try.

Setting aside the specific reason why I was standing atop the levee on a relatively seasonable August afternoon listening to a jazzy musical performance, consider for a moment the favorable impression made by the grandeur of the setting: Stage, band and sloping grass in front of me, barges and pleasure craft plying the waters of the Ohio just behind the stage , the city's signature Sherman Minton bridge humming with weekend traffic, and the Louisville skyline peaking demurely over the trees on the opposite shore.

Now think of the chicken and the egg, and tell me: Do we chronically underutilize this amphitheater because there is little demand, or is there a perception of little demand because we chronically underutilize this facility?

Later Saturday night, following aperitifs at Connor’s Place, a few of us adjourned to the courtyard at Bistro New Albany, enjoying a splendid meal and the temperate evening temperatures, and indulging in relaxed conversation. Then, on Sunday morning, I prepared a double espresso, fetched the Tribune from the front steps, dipped into a breakfast of cantaloupe and poached farm-fresh eggs (as acquired from Saturday’s farmers market, preparation courtesy of Mrs. Confidential) and turned straight to the opinion page for recent college graduate and guest columnist Daniel Robison’s latest submission, “Why New Albany is losing its young people”:

One recent visitor to the region remarked that New Albany is “historic.” Well, that's true: our city’s past has some nice highlights, but emphasizing this fact to define the city's identity is exactly symptomatic of the problem: our city is stuck, not in the past per se, but in its ways, attitudes and most importantly, opportunities.

In short, it was another in a series of provocative pieces by Daniel, a talented young New Albanian who’ll probably never live here, with his spot among the ranks of locals soon to be taken by yet another itinerant tenant of our city’s unregulated rental properties, which for decades have been the chief form of “economic development” pursued by our cluelessly caretaking political and governing classes.

While Daniel and his friends could not be expected to have memorized the lengthy list of excuses for failure that older New Albanians regularly cite when pressed to explain their own generation’s apathy, it is almost certain that if any one of Daniel’s coterie were handed the keys to the Riverfront Amphitheater’s restroom along with a brief checklist explaining the venue’s rules and regulations, he would immediately commence running the facility more efficiently than the current riverfront “director,” Bob Trinkle.

It is also certain that the entertainment and activities duly booked by the Young Turks would be precisely the sort that musically and culturally are veritable light years beyond Trinkle’s strictly stodgy and past-dated tastes – and that’s the best conceivable thing that could ever happen to the city’s amphitheater at this point in time.

Trinkle’s breathtakingly underachieving tenure has produced creative energy on a par with somnalent euchre tournaments at the Mark Elrod Towers, few tangible ideas beyond those gleaned from the manual for Baptist church socials, even fewer actual events, and nothing whatsoever to indicate any enthusiasm for substantive change or any abilities or willingness to implement it. Any remuneration to the current “director” totaling more than a buck fifty is far too high, although I suspect it is much more than that, and if so, it is a pay scale that by all rights should be the stuff of pure scandal.

Meanwhile, even in New Albany there are entrepreneurs of all generations who are willing and able to transform the amphitheater into a profitable, multi-cultural and diverse undertaking, one certainly capable of shifting income to the city rather than draining from it by being forced to subsist on a barely justifiable salary paid to one person who is completely out of touch with the demographic most sorely needed.

That'd be youth.

A better case for a public-private partnership is difficult to imagine; merely state the criteria, accept bids, award a contract, specify the percentage to be returned to the city, and permit private enterprise and a profit motive to inject life into a moribund and neglected area.

Recognizing that the terms for elected members of the current mayoral administration are running down, I therefore address this question, with all due sincerity, to City Hall hopefuls Doug England and Randy Hubbard:

Can you please – please – make a pledge of action with regard to New Albany’s Riverfront Amphitheater, arguably downtown’s single most neglected and mismanaged asset, and permit an injection of private enterprise that might reasonably be expected to dispel the do-nothing legacy of the current management?

After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained – and haven’t we all had enough of the latter?

Addendum: We’ve received an unverified report this morning that Bill Koehler, superintendent of the NA-FC Parks & Recreation Department, will submit (or has already submitted) his resignation. To repeat, this report is as yet unverified, but the source is reliable. If true, the supremely capable Koehler will be sorely missed.

Tonight: Stone Brewing co-founder and CEO Greg Koch (and his beers) at Rich O's.

From the Stone Brewing website's calendar of events:

Greg Koch's Midwest Tour Continues At Rich O's

Monday, August 20th --- 6:30 pm to 8:30 pm

Rich O's Public House at the New Albanian Brewing Co. has been supporting Stone Brewing for years. Now it is time for Stone to show our appreciation...and how are we going to do that? With an amazing lineup of Stone Special Releases and a visit from Stone CEO Greg Koch, of course!
Join Greg, Aaron, and the gang at Rich O's on Monday the 20th for an array of Stone beers the likes of which has never been seen in the Hoosier State.

[Warning: You may want to sit down before reading further!].

07.07.07 Vertical Epic Ale, Arrogant Bastard Ale, Oaked Arrogant Bastard Ale, Double Bastard Ale 2005, Double Bastard Ale 2006, Imperial Russian Stout, India Pale Ale, Old Guardian Barley Wine, Ruination IPA, Smoked Porter, Stone 10th Anniversary Ale IPA

Needless to say...pencil this one on your calendar, grab a designated driver, and get ready for a night you'll never forget ... or maybe you just might!

Rich O's / New Albanian Brewing Co., 3312 Plaza Drive, New Albany, IN, 812.949.2804

Friday afternoon massacre claims entire stormwater drainage board; Putsch leader Dan “Agent Zero” Coffey reassures traumatized city: “I’m in charge.”

Isn't he always?

But seriously, there is a recurring element of tragicomic pathos to the Wizard of Westside’s scheming machinations, of which the current Drainage Gate civic black eye is but one of many in the past, and many more to come, in which he has been complicit.

As ringmaster of the politics of semi-carnal envy that characterizes so much of small town life, CM Coffey certainly craves the office of mayor to such a noticeable degree that, presumably, he would gladly park his posterior on the gilded throne without accepting so much as a dime in remuneration.

Such is the vow of subservient poverty that Coffey has regularly demanded of other public servants, but it’s a moot point, because he knows that reliable support outside the hermetically sealed electoral comfort of his own fiefdom of Westendia is, shall we say, lacking; his prospects citywide aren’t worth a warm bucket of spit, and he’d be crushed in any such race like a fat and lazy late summer fly who has ingested one too many slices of fresh cow pie before trying to airlift home a bit too close to the waiting swatter.

----

Now that the stormwater drainage board has resigned en masse – quite the parliamentary thing to do under increasingly daunting circumstances, and the purport of which is as certain to elude the comprehension of the clueless poseur Erika as the dusty and long dormant instructions for programming her obsolete VCR – all parties involved in the city’s latest embarrassing example of its inability to govern itself are cowering behind temporary barricades constructed of tattered legal pads and BBQ bologna-stained Bazooka Joe vocational diplomas, courageously lobbing desultory volleys of accusation and counter-charge at one another.

Fascinatingly, New Albany’s sewage system, a meandering labyrinth to which now can added a newly Coffey-tized and eviscerated stormwater drainage compliance mechanism, creates strange bedfellows the way that Bill Gates prints money. As an example, sewer board member and city council president Larry Kochert, who shockingly finds himself for once in the mayor’s corner, believes that certain “overzealous” councilmen should be volunteered for unpaid duty on the now vacant drainage committee.

The pot, the kettle … the King.

Perhaps dazed at CM Kochert’s presumptuousness toward an erstwhile ally in obstructionist mayhem, the Wizard somehow hasn’t yet grabbed this gracious offer of unpaid labor even though time and time again he has lectured a howling gallery as to the alleged superiority of his grasp when it comes to environmental engineering, Kosher dietary restrictions, nuclear physics, quilting, and his central interpretive role in a soon to be released, bold new updated translation of Thomas Aquinas’s “Summa Theologica.”

With sidesplitting laughter escalating to Comedy Caravan proportions, let’s step gingerly around the corner and cast furtive glances at the campfires burning within the confines of the open air museum. I hear artillery in the distance, but it might be thunder. Are the stormwater drainage Gods chuckling, too?

And these bizarre partnerships; what to make of them? More on that later ... assuming the creek don't rise.

Tribune coverage here
Courier coverage here
Bucket brigade and lots of sawdust here

A suitable model for public art?

We saw "it" last week in Madison, Wisconsin.

Just ask Dave Thrasher what it means ...

A bit much for the sake of a steam table, isn't it?

Tribune reports: Bitter legal fight for cafe partners in New Albany.

Geez, how depressing. I'd like a decent side of mushy peas right about now -- and a pint of bitter.

As we argue the merits of mashed potatoes and mystery meat, does anyone out there know cooks from Ethiopia, India, Jamaica, Myanmar, Thailand, Hungary, the Maldive Islands or Peru who would like to come to New Albany and open a restaurant?

We now return you to another episode of "chicken & dumplings" in New Albany.

On thinking vertically in the open air museum.

Yes, it's true that I had planned on attending the public redevelopment meeting Tuesday evening.

How was I to know how supremely discouraging it would be to return to New Albany from a weekend in clean, progressive and coherently organized Madison, Wisconsin?

As it turned out, making the transition from blue state paradise to slum lord empowerment district required voluminous local anesthesia in the form of chilled hop juice administered pint by Progressive pint until the pain was dulled. Self-medication is not to be recommended, and yet it works for me.

Fortunately, since Tribune’s Eric Scott Campbell was there:

New Albany’s $6 million plan; Build parking garage as base to attract business, consultants tell city.

Erect a parking garage downtown beside the flood levee to attract “vertical development” — most likely a hotel or office complex — that would have a view of the Ohio River, say Dennis Dye and Kim Reeves of Indianapolis-based Browning Investments Inc.

And here I was thinking that "vertical development" is when Prof. Erika rises from the divan for another microwaved toadstool sandwich and shot of arsenic schnapps.

It’s certainly a measure of how hot it has been in August that the Tribune story did not result in a “taxpayer advocacy” protest march downtown and an attempted mass-immolation by the half-dozen or so Bic-flicking troglodyte obstructionists who’ve made a screeching career out of denigrating the State Street parking garage (the one that’s full just about every weekday) and insisting that no investment is necessary for downtown, or for that matter, for anything at all.

How they imagine the modern world was ever built in the first place is beyond me, and that’s okay, because it’s beyond them, too.

(Psst ... hey, you – over there ... need a match?)

Indeed, there’s a fine line somewhere in all this, one that delineates the need for vehicular parking in a rapidly renewing urban area and still provides human-friendly walking and bicycling access to the same area.

Not to belabor the experience in Madison, which I acknowledge as an imperfect analogy owing to differences in size and status as state capital, but there are numerous reasonably priced parking garages downtown, and they most certainly are used. The mass of humanity spilling out from the nearest downtown Madison parking garage to walk a short block to the farmers’ market last Saturday morning, then coming back to their cars heavily laden with cheese curds and ostrich sausage (actually, that was me) was a sight to behold. There’s another garage on the opposite side adjacent to the pivotal Great Dane brewpub.

I’d best stop lest recourse to the hop juice beckons yet again.

Readers who attended the redevelopment presentation and can provide enlightenment as to the dimensions of the redevelopment dialogue Tuesday, please post a comment or e-mail the senior editor.

Coming to downtown this Saturday (August 18): Worlds of Flavor Bar-B-Q and Music Festival.

Click on the image for a bigger version.

I'd have let readers know about this sooner, but for a variety of reasons advance notice wasn't possible. My own busy schedule, coupled with the annual "Beer and Sweat" homebrewing party in Cincinnati on the same day, served to dissuade me from organizing a "World of Flavor" beer segment as a portion of the proceedings, but at least NABC beers will be on tap at three of the four downtown estaurants, and there's always next year to make the fest grow.

It looks like cooler temperatures for Saturday, so I'll be out and about. Hope to see you there.

Here are a few other calendar dates to consider if you’re a beer aficionado:

Monday, August 20
The co-founder and CEO of Stone Brewing is coming, and you can Meet Greg Koch at Stone Brewing Night: Monday, August 20, at the Public House.

Fri., Sat. & Sun., August 24, 25 & 26
Peak Summit Groove and Dance Festival in and near the Rustic Frog, just inches outside downtown New Albany.

Saturday, August 25
The 4th annual Brew at the Zoo takes place at the Louisville Zoo.

Friday, August 31
It’ll be a pre-Oktoberfest German beer gala when Sandkerwa NA, an homage to Bamberg’s beers, begins.

Street vendors here and there.

SUSHI ON CAPITOL SQUARE

IN MADISON, WISCONSIN.

PROCESSED LUNCHMEAT ON THE CITY-COUNTY

BUILDING STEPS IN NEW ALBANY, INDIANA.

Play ball: Madison Mallards take the Louisville Bats to school -- and Bats ingloriously flunk out.

Before I make the mistake of sweeping generalizations, there’s a disclaimer: Chain-infected mass-market monoculture infects the city of Madison, Wisconsin (population 208,000) just as it does the remainder of an increasingly sterile exurban America.

Familiar generic entities like Wal-Mart, McDonald’s and Anheuser-Busch are as entrenched in Wisconsin’s capital city as anywhere, especially in the predictably cookie-cutter outer districts surrounding the historically progressive city center.

But, now for the good news, at least from the point of view of one who vows death to chains.

You simply can’t help but notice that in Madison, some of the most abrasive and insulting aspects of suburban and exurban sprawl are at least softened and made more tolerably human by virtue of vigilant planning and aggressive code enforcement. To cite just one example, commercial signage is discrete and typically hugs the ground, and mandated trees and landscaping provide a soothing alternative to the pervasive concrete of the oft-repeated American look-alike tableau.

Furthermore, worker-owned companies (including a prominent taxi service) and cooperatives abound, green consciousness is widespread, bicycles are everywhere, and the Saturday morning farmers market that surrounds the majestic capitol building on all four sides is one of the oldest, largest and best-attended in the country.

We ended our stay with baseball and beer, and found in these bookends of summertime Americana even more evidence that in some locales, things are just better than in others.

The Madison Mallards are the city’s baseball team. It is an amateur team in the short-season Northwoods League, one composed entirely by unpaid collegiate players who are housed with local families and work in the community when they’re not playing ball. On the field, they use wooden bats, not aluminum, in preparation for the future employment a precious few of them will enjoy within the ranks of paid, professional baseball.

The Mallards play at the Duck Pond, a charmingly human-scale park on the north side that holds a bit more than 7,000 people, 210,000 of whom viewed the 32 home games played during the recently concluded 2007 season. We were part of a sell-out crowd on the final game of the season, which doubled as fan appreciation night, and as bearers of $25 tickets, we were admitted to the riotous seating area within the Great Dane Brewing Company’s Duck Blind, in turn entitling us to unlimited ballpark food, draft beer and soft drinks in addition to the game itself.

Note that in a testament to the ready availability of public transport, reasonably priced taxis and bicycles, beer is served until the last out is recorded. Are there no attorneys in Wisconsin?

The Duck Blind is a funky, sprawling wooden warren of picnic tables, bleacher seats and elevated platforms that might have been designed by the Swiss Family Robinson, all nestled in the park’s right-field corner. The all-you-can-eat park/pub grub unfortunately does not include the sushi that can be purchased elsewhere on the grounds, but instead is the sort you’d expect straight from the coals of the backyard grill – burgers, brats and the like.

The open-minded diversity of the beer selection is noteworthy, for while ample quantities of fizzy yellow swill are available for the enjoyment of the unwashed and flavor impaired, the selection is balanced by a half-dozen local microbrews, most of them drawn from the sponsoring Great Dane brewery, but also including two from the German-inspired Capital Brewing in nearby Middleton.

Understand that no one, not even the ever radicalized author, denies that a ballpark is a business proposition even if the team is spared the burden of salaries, and as with other major and minor league venues, including Louisville Slugger Field, the Great Dane Brewing Company must “pay to play” at the Duck Pond’s Duck Blind.

Accordingly, I inquired of a friend in Madison’s beer community about the probable price of sponsorship, and while I’ll not quote it publicly, it should suffice to say that (a) the cost to the brewery is reasonable, (b) the cost is a sum that does not preclude the smallish brewery from making a profit on keg sales, and (c) the cost is part and parcel of an agreement that graciously permits mass-market swill also to be sold alongside local craft beer in an area primarily sponsored by the local craft brewery – something that is seldom the case in reverse, when multinational mega-breweries pay the big bucks for beer placement with the express intent and expectation of excluding competition, enforcing a de facto carbonated dishwater monopoly, and denying any measure of genuine choice for the consumer.

In short – let’s come right out and say it – a Madison Mallards game offers the consumer an experience the polar opposite of that regularly (and tepidly) teed up by the Louisville Bats, who offer a brand of baseball on the field that is at least four levels better than Madison’s, but whose management routinely succumbs to a colorless, chain-think, pocket-stuffing Philistinism that deprives discerning fans of the best aspects of locally-based cultural diversity in beer, in food, and by extension, in life itself.

As I’ve noted so many times before, here and elsewhere, the lowest-common-denominator bottom line practiced by the Bats is hypocrisy of a high and galling order, for it violently contradicts the stated aim of the team in providing Louisville fans with a locally-based baseball and entertainment alternative to the higher-priced major leagues.

On the other hand, Madison’s Mallards obviously get it. Why does Madison’s ball club have a far better grasp of the philosophy involved? Why does it offer a far better overall package than Louisville’s?

Part of the answer involves the presence in Madison of sufficient numbers of progressive, thinking baseball fans who demand a better product, but another crucial aspect of it – not coincidentally, the shading that consistently eludes Louisville’s primeval team management – has to do with Madison’s brain trust being progressive itself, responding not only to the dully predictable profit imperatives of the lowest common denominator in the traditionally underachieving fashion of the Bats, but also actively participating in shaping its market, not just pandering to it.

To me, it’s another manifestation of the Louisville metropolitan area’s congenital refusal to admit that knowledge really matters when it comes to the advancement of the human species … and that will have to await another day’s rumination.

Self-described “mouthpiece” for right-wing dogma crashes and burns. Can the Christian re-education camp be far behind?

Up until recently, I was sure that the following description of life in America was the official slogan of the excremental George W. Bush reign of error, although I’ll readily concede that it might be better used as an epitaph for the most futile presidency in our nation's history*:

The beatings will continue until morale improves.

But now, given hilarious breaking local developments, I’m leaning toward another statement of bedrock-solid, right-wing principle:

Young Republicans: Their members interact, jack ...

There’ll be no trashing the messenger, because I’m not making this up. Visit the website of the Young Republican National Federation and read the text for yourself:

While the YRs are best known for political activism and service to our communities, YR events also provide a great opportunity for interaction amongst membership. This interaction allows for the exchange of ideas, networking, and friendships that will last a lifetime.

Ah, the good old summertime.

The deliveries are floating toward the plate as big as beach balls, and the bat feels as light as the ideological content of Mike Sodrel’s briefcase.

WHACK … sure got all of that one, and there goes another Republican hypocrite slamming face first into the outfield wall, but to be perfectly honest, it’s just no challenge when it’s this easy.

No steroids - honest. Viagra's another matter.

It would be positively joyful for me to mock the fallen wunderkind’s best available plea of consensual fellatio, and yet there is precious little happiness to be derived from any of it, and I greeted the news with equal measures of resignation and sadness. As the scandal broke, Murphy’s own political peer group managed to erase his name from the Young Republican website faster than Uber-Mensch-Super-Man’s speeding bullet. That’s positively Orwellian, isn’t it?

But seriously.

It is vital to understand that whatever Glenn Murphy Jr. or any other American does on their own time in the company of like minded and consenting adults matters not one jot, but of course it all goes out the window when politics comes into play. Ludicrously, Murphy and others of his expediently ideological “values” ilk have forged careers cynically parlaying baseless fears and prejudices into ready-made political platforms for persecution of people who, as the remarkable irony turns, are actually just like themselves.

For proof that the hypocrisy is a nationwide epidemic, here’s another recent case: Operation Yellow Elephant.

It is neither pretty to look on as unchecked hubris claims another victim, nor enriching to observe the flailing and disassembling that accompanies the ritualistic public lashings to follow, as we scream, howl, and learn absolutely nothing from the experience, our attention spans having been reduced to the length of 30-second television blurbs, the grammatical brilliance of Steve Price’s collected fireside chats or the velvet case for a microchip -- whichever's smaller.

Sadly, I suppose the endlessly repeated spectacle remains necessary in some pitifully human way, perhaps reflecting a desperate hope that someone, somewhere might seize upon equilibrium, compassion, understanding and respect as hopeful ways of making sense of our fellow human beings and co-existing in a community with them.

I’ll not be holding my breath. People hereabouts are plainly too willing to embrace nonsense for me or anyone else to be optimistic any time soon.

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* That's right, Millard Fillmore. You're officially off the hook.

Yo, Toto: We're not in New Albany any more.

An apogee of narcissism.

"It sure looks like to us ~ you did your homework Valla Ann!"

Farmers market in Madison, Wisconsin.

The Saturday morning Madison, Wisconsin farmers market completely surrounds the capital square.

From guaranteed squeaky fresh cheese curds to ostrich summer sausage, and including information stands for all known liberal causes, busking street musicians and good coffee, it is the weekend place to be in downtown Madison. I stocked up on snacks for the beer festival later in the afternoon.

Stupid is as stupid does, at least when it comes to our "legislative" non-body.

New Albany City Council vote leaves zoning gap, by Eric Scott Campbell, (News and Tribune):

In opposing a multifaceted development proposal for an untamed parcel of the city’s fringe area, the New Albany City Council may have unintentionally loosened restrictions on what can be built there.

It's the Steve Price dictum: Underachievement through ignorance.

Think it will ever change, and New Albany might value intelligence rather than the discount grocer's mantra?

I'm not holding my breath.

Greetings from the People's Republic of Madison.

By way of explaining my whereabouts, here's the text of my LEO column this week.

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Mug Shots: Abreast of a great beer fest

I’ve never been to Madison, the capital of Wisconsin, but that will change this weekend when I embark on an overdue visit to a city that has often been accused of being “The People’s Republic of Madison.” That’s encouragement enough to elicit warm and fuzzy pre-trip vibrations from me, but moreover, Saturday also is the occasion for the annual Great Taste of the Midwest beer festival.

The GTMW is the ideal craft brew dictatorship that purges dissent by offering hundreds of microbrewed treats available for scientific 2-ounce sampling, ranging across the spectrum of styles, and with nary an ounce of insipid light mass-market beer in sight.

It’s one of the top three beer celebrations in the great brewing nation that America has somehow become almost in spite of itself, standing alongside the Oregon Brewers Festival (Portland) and the Great American Beer Festival (Denver). Each year, GTMW tickets sell out months in advance, and thousands wait joyfully in line to enter the grounds adjacent to beautiful Lake Olin and revel in flavor, diversity and ingenuity.

More often than not, the breweries proudly displaying their wares at the GTMW have come about as the result of an all-American dream to do it yourself, and to do it better. “We brew beer, we drink beer, and we sell what’s left” is a common motto. I get goose pimples just thinking about it.

Big beer events like Madison’s have spawned a subculture of fest fanatics who attend numerous such tastings. An abnormally large number of these die-hards are attracted to the “extreme” end of the flavor spectrum, with its high-octane styles like Double India Pale Ale, Imperial Stout and Barley Wine — libations of complexity and octane, suitable for all weather conditions, and worth traveling long distances to seek out.

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Debarking in Milwaukee yesterday morning, the temperature was 72 degrees. The first thing I saw upon emerging from the jetway in Madison was the word "Wurst," German for sausage, advertising the presence of a German-themed, well, "Imbiss." Most of the streets have bicycle lanes, and people use them. I saw ordinance enforcement vehicles with OEOs at work in a neighborhood driving through.

Vacationing in a blue state paradise? Sweet relief. By the way, are there any Young Republican slumber parties planned back at the Sunny Side?

Press release: Historic Home Tour Back for Second Year ... Organizers Expect 500 Visitors.

The New Albany Historic Home Tour, September 8, 2007, takes you behind the scenes as the doors of ten properties in the city’s four historic districts are opened to visitors. Discover the rich architectural heritage of New Albany as you explore private residences, gardens, and commercial buildings. On this tour, sponsored by Develop New Albany, you are invited inside for a glimpse of what it is like to live, work, and worship in these unique structures.

Floyd County Historian David Barksdale commented, “With the tour, we can involve the community first-hand in New Albany’s historic experience. The architectural diversity and walkable neighborhoods of our city are a well kept secret and we enjoy having the opportunity to show them off to the Metro area. An estimated 500 visitors will see New Albany from a different perspective as we open the doors to our past, present, and future.”

New Albany’s four historic districts contain over 800 buildings. A highlight of this year’s event is St. Mary of the Annunciation Catholic Church. An outstanding example of Romanesque Revival architecture, it was built in 1858 for the German Catholic community. Also on tour this year is the Reibel House, used as a hotel in the 1800s and the Zinsmeister house, a Second Empire gem, sometimes known locally as the Little Culbertson for its similarity to the Culbertson Mansion State Historic Site.

The tour starts at 10:00 a.m. at the New Albany Farmers Market at the corner of Bank and Market Streets where you will purchase tickets and pick up your tour booklet and driving map. You can set your own pace and visit the stops in any order you wish through the close of the tour at 5:00 p.m.

Ticket costs are $15 for an adult. Children under 15 are $5. Visit
www.newalbanypreservation.com for information about purchasing
advance tickets. Or purchase them at any one of the following New Albany locations: AAA Plumbing Doctor, 302B Market Street; Martha’s Attic, 222 Pearl Street; Treet’s Bakery & Café, 133 E Market; or Downtown Farmers Market, Bank and Market Streets, Saturdays starting August 4.

All proceeds fund historic preservation activities in New Albany.

Questions: HomeTourNA@msn.com