Saturday, August 26, 2017

ON THE AVENUES SATURDAY SPECIAL: One-ways on the way out, because with downtown at a crossroads, they simply had to be exterminated.

ON THE AVENUES SATURDAY SPECIAL:  One-ways on the way out, because with downtown at a crossroads, they simply had to be exterminated.

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.

To make up for Thursday's rerun ...

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I haven't missed the irony.

The very act of persistently advocating for the restoration of two-way streets and the reform of our car-centric downtown grid completely undermines my fundamental personal objective, which is to be freed at long last from mandatory participation in one-way discussions that invariably begin with this anguished cry, openly stated or implicit:

WHAT ABOUT ME AND MY CAR!

To which I must reply:

What about them? What about me and my Not Car?

Or, better stated:

Why are your needs and your CARS more important than our needs and our Not Cars?

Yes, I have a car, too. However, since around 1992 it has been my aim to organize my life so as to facilitate other transportation options – walking, biking, Uber-ing, light rail -- whatever. I'd rather take the money and buy a plane ticket to a European city where I can ride the tram.

I haven't eliminated the need for a car, mind you, but have been shrinking it down, so as to be fit comfortably within the perimeter of a typical oil filter. I've purchased homes twice, one for each marriage, with this in mind. If I return to business, it will be downtown, where I can walk to and from work.

And so on. As Jeff Gillenwater put it on social media:

People are attempting to calculate their personal losses based on the perceived additional commute time created by a two way street grid, often using astronomical hourly rates for the at best fuzzy math. Even the most ardent opponents are typically coming up with a few minutes per trip. Suggest to those same people, though, that they might consider living closer to work in order to realize perhaps even double the financial savings and half the daily resource usage - making the point that their own decision making plays a large role, both for themselves and all the rest of us who put up with the negative consequences of their automobile dominated lifestyles - and the general response is anger and/or blank stares. As my favorite planning statement goes: You're not stuck in traffic. You are traffic.

Automotive propaganda has been so pervasive for so long that few of us even think twice before buying into it. It's like religion, in a way; modern life deprives us of any genuine input or purpose, but cars remain emblematic of a freedom otherwise denied us, and we worship them accordingly.

I think it goes further, addressing something along the lines of impotence versus power, an increasingly obvious societal dynamic in an era when we should be tarring and feathering the accumulators of wealth and capital rather than attacking each other.

The same Americans cursing Muslim militants for ramming cars into pedestrians probably have approached a bicyclist and considered precisely the same course of action. Most of the time they don't follow through, but it's hard to see much difference in these cognitive pre-conditions of terrorism.

There is much power within two tons of metal, plastic and rubber, as utterly dependent on the skill and equanimity of the human behind the wheel. Drop 26,721 bombs on other countries, and it passes without notice because it's all part of the plan, but draw an extra white line on the road in someone's path to a job he or she hates, anyway, and everyone loses their minds.

Gillenwater again:

People who genuinely believe that traversing Spring and other nearby streets in New Albany constitutes some sort of all-too-confusing struggle clearly lack the competence to be behind the wheel at all. They're one of the primary reasons street reforms were so badly needed in the first place. To the extent they're correct about being unable to keep from crashing into each other in the near future, I'm just going to chalk it up to Darwinism. I don't want them or anyone else to get seriously injured but disabling a slew of their vehicles would be a boon to us all.

I’ve noticed that as we debate two-way streets in New Albany, or more accurately, as proponents offer ream after ream of statistical evidence even as opponents respond by screaming and threatening to maul someone, those of the one-way persuasion tend to say "I" and "me" a lot, while those interested in more than one path through life use words like "we," "us" and “ours.”

Invariably it's about “my right” to drive anywhere, any time, at any speed, and never our collective responsibility to drive safely. When safety is mentioned, it’s all about safety for “me and my car,” not anyone else who might wish to use a sliver of a driver's city acreage at the same time, as though it's a zero sum proposition.

When you think about it, angry drivers are the ultimate in snowflakes, demanding that they have it all and have it now, and crumbling into infantile tantrums at the first sign they might no longer be coddled.

It’s understandable. Our society has been rigged like this since the 1920s, which only makes our crusade to restore a semblance of balance even more rewarding – and necessary, especially if “our” neighborhoods are to be reclaimed.

A last guest turn for Jeff …

It's amazing really. People who live in my neighborhood never seem to experience the horrendous driving conditions that so many who only pass through insist happen on a regular basis …

… there are typically so few problems with automobile congestion in Downtown New Albany, any seems like a lot. Those frustrated drivers, though, like to take it out on everybody else once they hit the ramps, driving 70-75 mph and weaving in and out of lanes because everybody knows that it's well worth risking multiple lives to keep them from being five minutes late to wherever they're going. I mean, they might not have time for a second cup of coffee at their destination before they have to get started with their work. If everybody driving a car was 1/3 as important as a lot of them seem to think they are, I could roll down my windows and chat with Nobel Prize winners every morning.

Just take a deep breath. If something confuses and distracts you -- if you don't know what it means, and find it challenging -- one possible response is to learn.

Unconventional, perhaps, but at least some humans have been doing it for thousands of years ... even before cars were invented.

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I was asked this question on a thread about the many restaurants and bars in downtown New Albany.

"Finally, if these two-way streets are indeed better for business, then how has there been so much growth downtown in spite of one-way traffic?"

As a frequent customer of Holiday Inn Express (no, not really), here's my answer, albeit without statistics or outside sources, just personal observations. 

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During the history of the two-way streets discussion in New Albany, we've tended to proceed along artificially parallel lines: two-way streets are good for neighborhoods and also good for downtown business districts, but for reasons that aren't always seen to overlap even if they share a basic set of fundamental aims.

The goal of enhanced walkability encompasses all, except I don't think we've always been able to see how neighborhoods and business districts can be the same thing. We've forgotten what this normal circumstance looks like, and we're locked into a mindset of commuting, as opposed to living.

Let's begin by rewinding.

Given the state of degradation in downtown ten years ago, it's obvious that thirty or more years of one-way streets did nothing to boost the overall value of downtown.

At their very best, one-way streets were neutral, serving their stated purpose of moving drivers through town as quickly as possible, almost none of whom were intent on stopping.

At worst, one-way streets were an impetus from the start for the hollowing-out problem, insulating speedy avenues for cars and implying that no one should or would stop because nothing of value was there to merit the effort – a self-fulfilling prophecy, for sure.

In short, the “value” of downtown in the sense of the historic central business district had collapsed to such an extent that it had become a huge undervalued asset – like a deep sink hole, if you will – in the middle of the larger municipal organism, with corresponding stressors extending like tentacles into nearby neighborhoods.

That's bad, but under the right circumstances, a depressed downtown might be worth greater investment precisely because it was so radically undervalued, and rates of return would be higher.

The combination of the YMCA and the inexpensive Riverfront Development Area permits (circa 2006) served as a jump start, bringing investors/pioneers into the undervalued zone, and in turn attracting contractors and developers to rehab real estate, gradually producing a ripple effect of sorts with almost no financial contribution from city government.

So far, so good, but these early waves of activity really were doing nothing other than beginning the neglected process of redressing an undervalued situation, and came nowhere near maximizing a critical mass that didn't yet exist. We were repaying delinquent interest and penalties, not touching the principal -- just filling in the hole, not rebuilding atop desired level ground.

Now, after ten or so years, perhaps the undervalued hole has been filled or at least is close to being filled, and as we approach the stage of consolidation and value creation above the mere restoration of the break-even point, I believe this is the point where one-way streets actually would inhibit further growth if not eliminated.

Consider that when the city finally started putting some skin in the game, the Breakwater apartment complex was the planners' result: 180+ apartments, maybe 300 residents returning to downtown for residential occupancy, along with dozens of other examples nearby of small-scale rehabs, upstairs in urban dwellings, the way it used to be before one-way streets helped enable flight to the suburbs.

Most of us who've been here for a while have long noted that the turning point would be when people once again were living in the historic business district, as they had during previous periods of the city’s existence, thus confirming that cities are best at efficiently concentrating resources, with people living near their amenities and recreation, because these are the sort of people who value the urban experience in the first place and don't wish to reside in the 'burbs.

Seeing as one-way streets more closely resemble interstates than city streets, they obviously can do little to contribute to this emerging urban neighborhood vibe, and so now we return to our neighbor Jessica’s argument that two-way streets are better for the neighborhood, because that’s exactly what downtown must become to complete filling in the hole and building atop the level ground.

If it doesn’t become a neighborhood, with the next round of ancillaries, these 37 food-based businesses within an approximate 5-block radius of the parking garage won’t be sustainable, whatever the street direction.

Two-way streets can facilitate this process, as opposed to one-way streets detracting from it. Two way adds neighborhood value, one way saps it. Ultimately, it’s less about appeasing locals who already know how to get places (they’ll adapt quickly to changes) or non-locals using GPS as wayfinding, because neither of these factors matter unless people WANT TO GO THERE, and by extension, WANT TO LIVE THERE.

If they can get somewhere else (work, play) by two-way streets as easily as one-way (they can), and if the design of one-way streets actively contradict neighborhood values (they do), and if two-way streets slow traffic and reinforce quality of life considerations (affirmative) ...

 ... then there is a strong case for what we’ve been saying for years: pass-throughs can take I-265, which was built to take cars and trucks around downtown, and walking and biking can be re-emphasized downtown to enhance it as a neighborhood, because if people really want to be there, they’ll come (and live) in spite of the imagined impediments on the part of those naysayers, many of whom don’t understand the urban attraction from the outset and continue to view downtown as an obstacle to be surmounted, not a positive value in its own right.

My answer, then, is that during the period of downtown hole-filling, which in economic terms probably must be viewed as a time when investments still are speculative, these entrepreneurial indie business speculators have survived by utilizing available conditions as skillfully as possible as part of a bigger wager; they’ll trade sparser pickings now (up to a point) for better ones in the future.

I know for a fact that many restaurant people feel this way. It’s a risk, and they know it.

Through this period, one-way streets have been tolerable, perhaps, but they can do nothing to help facilitate what must come next. They run counter to the urban ethos that must be honored if the next stage of revitalization is to be reached, because if the next stage isn’t reached, the probable result will be a step backward ... into the hole.

What do you think?

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Recent columns:

August 24: ON THE AVENUES: PourGate (the Great Beer Pour War of 2013) and Dr. Tom's prescription: "Kneel and Kiss My Ring, You Degraded Alcoholic."

August 17: ON THE AVENUES: Love in the time of choleric Coffey, though it's nice of Deaf Gahan to support the K of C's political agenda.

August 10: ON THE AVENUES: Super Tuesday shrapnel – or, tiptoeing through the tulips with Dan Coffey, now THE face of historic preservation in New Albany.

August 3: ON THE AVENUES: On the importance of being ancient.

July 27: ON THE AVENUES: Irish history with a musical chaser.

THE BEER BEAT: A late August compendium of links about local and regional beer.

There was a time when the general rule of thumb was to wait a bit before reviewing a restaurant or brewery, this representing a tacit understanding that while no one excuses bad food, beer or service, it usually takes a while to put things into place. Curve balls are common at the start, and even boomerangs.

Of course, at the same time, we all want to patronize the new joint on the block, because if we don't, it might not be there when we finally get around to dropping by. That said, LEO's Syd Bishop offers a "review of Gravely Brewing Co.’s first 7 beers" and finds them excellent.

Congratulations to Louisville's newest brewery, which opened a week ago, and as a side note (maybe a coda), if you like Gravely's musically-themed vibe and offerings visit Chilly Water Brewing Company the next time you're in Indianapolis. As an example, two current Chilly Water ales are Barley O'Riley Barley Wine and Blood on the Tracks Blood Orange IPA.

Some observers suggest that we've entered an era of beer festival fatigue. Speaking only for myself, once a year works just dandy in my world, but other regional fests seem to be persisting in my absence amid a few mixed signals.

The Brewers of Indiana Guild's festival slate is thriving, and now it is expanding.

BIG's biggest annual event (and the primary fundraiser for guild operations) remains the Indiana Microbrewers Festival in July, held for two decades at Opti Park in Broad Ripple.

While I was still serving on the board, we made a difficult decision to move this event to Military Park in downtown Indianapolis, where logistics could be better managed, accommodating ever greater numbers of breweries and attendees, and linking them more efficiently to hotels and non-driving transport options.

It was the right thing to do, but we didn't like vacating Broad Ripple, which had proven so loyal for so long. At the time, the board bandied returning to Opti Park for a smaller, more customized autumn festival, which will come to fruition on Saturday, October 28.

Broad Ripple Beer Fest: The intimate event will feature 45 Hoosier breweries and guests, cask beers, and 10 small-batch specialty beers featuring unique ingredients like local hops, seasonal fruit, and candy.

Note also that the 2018 BIG festival in Bloomington is shifting locations to the center of town. More on this another time.

There's another festival change closer to home, with the Louisville Independent Business Alliance ("Keep Louisville Weird") announcing the demise of the popular Louisville Brewfest, which became best known during its residency at Slugger Field.

LIBA bids farewell to the Louisville Brewfest

LIBA has been honored to be part of the amazing growth of Louisville’s craft beer industry since we hosted our first Louisville Brewfest in 2009. It featured all the local breweries at the time, which totaled a whopping 5! The industry has been so successful that there’s now a plethora of breweries and beer festivals to choose from in our fair city, and craft beer is widely available – from gas stations to church picnics. LIBA has also experienced incredible growth and change, and it’s time for us to close the book on the Louisville Brewfest. We’ve had some amazing times at the Brewfest, and we give a great, great big thank you to all the folks who have supported and enjoyed the event over the years. We’ll miss it, but we’re glad all of us have so many new and good local choices for beer festivals. We are in the early planning stages for another public event (in addition to our Buy Local Fairs) that will give folks another chance to come together to support local businesses and connect with fellow Louisvillians, which is so important to strengthening our community. In the meantime, cheers to keeping the craft beer flowing, and keeping those dollars local!

Many Louisville area beer fans will miss Brewfest, but I believe the explanation makes very good sense.

An hour west on I-64 in Ferdinand, there'll be a new September weekend festival at St. Benedict's Brew Works, which is located on the grounds of Monastery Immaculate Conception, home of the Sisters of St. Benedict.

St. Benedict’s Brew Works opened on October 15, 2015, and has carved out a niche for itself in the year and a half since Vince Luecke and Andy Hedinger leased the building and opened the brewery.


Note that Jasper, Indiana is just a few miles down the road from Ferdinand, and is the home of the legendary Schnitzelbank Restaurant and its house brewery, Schnitz Brewery & Pub. You can make a weekend out of it, folks.

Finally, regular readers are aware of my fondness for linking local beer with local issues. It long has been apparent that the growth of craft beer is a positive factor for urban areas, and as the years pass, data becomes more voluminous, and research yields new insights. In short: good beer is good for your burg, as one of the big names explains.

Can Craft Breweries Transform America's Post-Industrial Neighborhoods?, by Richard Florida (CityLab)

A new study tells the story of craft beer’s astonishing rise and geographic clustering.

... The study takes a deep dive into the locations of craft breweries or micro-breweries and brew pubs in ten cities: Austin, Charlotte, Chicago, Denver, Minneapolis, New York, Portland, San Diego, San Francisco, and Seattle. Of these ten cities, seven can be said to have distinct brewery districts. Using a Ripley’s K analysis, which is an equation for measuring the clustering of point data, the researchers found, “the strongest predictor of whether a craft brewery opened in a neighborhood was the presence of an already existing brewery in that neighborhood.”

I've also used the example of John Hickenlooper, who I'm fortunate to have met back when he was "just" a brewery owner.

Of course, in many places, microbreweries and brew pubs are seen as harbingers of gentrification. But microbreweries tend to be located in old industrial areas where few residents actually live. “Many of the brewery districts that are emerging in U.S. cities tend to be located in parts of the city that were once bustling with manufacturing and warehouse activity,” the study reports. These are the types of districts that have been hit hardest by de-industrialization, and brewing can fill some of that vacant manufacturing space.

Perhaps the craft beer revolution will transform more than just neighborhoods. Stretching back into American history, taverns and beer halls have helped mobilize many political movements. Wynkoop Brewing Company, a brewpub that catalyzed the branding and revitalization of Denver’s LoDo neighborhood, was founded by former Denver Mayor and current Colorado governor John Hickenlooper, who is said to be a leading Democratic candidate for President in 2020. Maybe a catalyst of the craft beer movement will steer the next political revolution.

TheatreWorks of Southern Indiana: "Tickets for Proof by David Auburn are now available."


From TheatreWorks of Southern Indiana comes notice of its new production.

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Proof, by David Auburn

Greetings!

We hope you are doing well since our last production. We are excited to announce that tickets for Proof by David Auburn are now available! After selling out all performances of Rumors and Big River: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, we wanted to contact you as soon as possible so you can claim your seat and join us for this uplifting and compelling play.

What do you need to know about Proof? 

2001 Pulitzer Prize Winner
2001 Tony Award for Best Play

"Proof combines elements of mystery and surprise with old-fashioned storytelling to provide a compelling evening of theatre … [PROOF is a] smart and compassionate play of ideas." - NY Daily News.

"PROOF surprises us with its aliveness … Mr. Auburn takes pleasure in knowledge … At the same time, he is unshowily fresh and humane, and he has written a lovely play." - NY Observer.

"[A] wonderfully funny … ambitiously constructed work… " - Variety.

Synopsis

This uplifting play tells the story of Catherine, a troubled young woman, who has spent years caring for her brilliant but unstable father, a famous mathematician. Now, following his death, she must deal with her own volatile emotions; the arrival of her estranged sister, Claire; and the attentions of Hal, a former student of her father's who hopes to find valuable work in the 103 notebooks that her father left behind. Over the long weekend that follows, a burgeoning romance and the discovery of a mysterious notebook draw Catherine into the most difficult problem of all: How much of her father's madness—or genius—will she inherit?

**This play contains some strong language and is not recommended for children under 13.

Performance Dates

Sept. 20-23, Sept. 27-30 at 7:30 p.m.

Sept. 24 & Oct. 1 at 2:00 p.m.

Ticket information here

"Remembering Harry Nilsson: American Beatle, filthy drunk, and the great lost music genius of the 1970s."



The video is available at various for-pay portals. It's inexpensive and worth the time. Older readers may recall Harry Nilsson's heyday in the early 1970s. If all this is well before your time, the film may yet have value as documentation of a not-so-quaint era of rock star excess.

A review of the documentary in the New York Times:

In 1968, when asked to name his favorite American rock group, John Lennon replied “Nilsson,” which was of course not a group at all but a Brooklyn-born, Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter named Harry Nilsson.

This is an excellent long read from 2013, although the merit of watching the documentary lies in hearing the songs:

Deconstructing Harry, by Sean Fennessey (Grantland)

Remembering Harry Nilsson: American Beatle, filthy drunk, and the great lost music genius of the 1970s

... In the years before the Lost Weekend and before Pussy Cats, Nilsson established himself as a kind of pop culture Zelig, a figure who was around greatness or creating it on his own, landing in shocking good fortune only to squander it over and again. His drinking is legendary; he soaked himself with the best of rock’s worst drunks. He also possessed one of the purest voices of his generation, and was often described as the most gifted white male singer of his time. It’s hard to overstate its dramatic, breathtaking quality, and at its best, his songwriting. His is a career that feels both forgotten and deeply embedded in modern pop. He sang standards and rock and jazz and winding conceptual songs and tiny little kids’ tunes and commercial jingles. He wrote, voiced, and spearheaded an animated film starring Dustin Hoffman. He played Dracula in a movie. He soundtracked a sitcom and nearly fought Jackie Gleason in a nightclub. He was “the Beatle across the water.” He tore up London bars with Ringo Starr and Keith Moon. He invented the remix album. He also invented the mash-up.5 He dropped acid with Timothy Leary. He sang of moonbeams and fire and coconuts and puppies. He was a prodigious songwriter whose two biggest hits were covers. He made his father’s abandonment the centerpiece of his songwriting, and yet rarely acknowledged its importance publicly. He performed live in concert in his prime exactly zero times. He lobbied for a songwriter named Randy Newman and is responsible for the career of Three Dog Night. He composed scores for Otto Preminger and Robert Altman. He wrote a musical about the Wright brothers. He had no. 1 albums and pop smashes and disastrous failures. He won Grammys. He was hilarious, and such a sad man. His voice can be heard as Jon Voight gets off that bus in New York City in Midnight Cowboy. He sang “You’re breaking my heart, so fuck you” on the follow-up single to his masterpiece breakthrough. He was married three times and had seven kids. He snorted heroin and hitchhiked across America. He was a renaissance man and a get-along guy. A carouser and a crusader. He failed well and succeeded poorly. He did everything before most, and nothing in moderation. His songwriting career began about 50 years ago. It almost ended 40 years ago. He died nearly 20 years ago. But his songs — and that voice — go on and on and on.

Friday, August 25, 2017

The ways most states and cities set speed limits? A study shows "how these standard practices may actually lead to more speeding-related fatalities and injuries."


Jeeebus, what a week. I believe there are a substantial number of people locally who are willing to assert that the sun rises in the west and sets in the east -- to give up their first born to the French Foreign Legion and eat durian fruit on their toast for breakfast -- just so long as they can avoid admitting that I'm right about something.

This is priceless, and it pleases me to no end.

But enough of that.

Let's talk about how speed kills. The report in question deals strictly with passenger vehicles, but the correlations with other road users are clear. Here are two excerpts.


NTSB RELEASES FULL REPORT ON SPEEDING-RELATED CRASH STUDY
, by Nimotalai Azeez (Smart Growth America)

The safe system approach introduced in the report considers the vulnerability of all road users. How will the recommendations make streets safer for people like you who commute by bike, and those who walk, bicycle, use transit, and drive?

We can’t talk about speeding without talking about people who walk, bike or use transit, younger and older road users, and people with disabilities. The safe system approach, discussed in the report, incorporates the needs of all road users, especially vulnerable ones. Although this report focuses on passenger vehicles, some recommendations apply to all road users by ensuring that appropriate speeds are maintained and enforced.

How does the study treat the influence of road design on traffic crashes?

The report focuses on countermeasures that are considered less widely accepted. But it is important to note that [changing] road design to address speed-related crashes is not yet widely implemented, even if it is generally accepted as good practice. Some jurisdictions are already addressing speed-related crashes using road design, by using Fatality Analysis Reporting System (FARS) data related to infrastructure and other data-driven measures. Some states, as I have seen firsthand, are already including speed as an emphasis area in their Strategic Highway Safety Plans (SHSP). Some jurisdictions are using design manuals with features that enhance compliance for lower speed limits rather than simply lowering speed limits.

On the errant notion of downtown two-way gridlock: The "I'll huff and puff and boycott a place I rarely go anyway, except to pass through" approach.


Just imagine if City Hall and captive non-profits like Develop New Albany had devoted just a bit of time educating the populace. Well, parties are more fun, I guess.

On the topic of impending two-way streets, our neighbor Jessica hits the center of the target and drops the mic:

"I'm sorry that this is going to slow down your commute and not allow you to speed down my neighborhood street. I'm sorry that two-way streets are going to make it safer for pedestrians. I'm sorry that this is going to cause less accidents to occur. I'm sorry this is going to make our city a walkable city. I'm sorry that this transition is going to continue to help our local businesses thrive. I'm sorry that this is going to make it safer for my family and all of the families with children that have begun to move to this area. Imagine if your subdivision/neighborhood streets were a speedway and think about how you would feel? Now think about downtown New Albany." 

Her hashtag: #sorrynotsorry

Right on, neighbor. Right on. Yesterday the social media-sphere was filled with the threats of flat-earthers to boycott downtown New Albany because the exact same number of traffic lanes will exist after the two-way reversion, just as they did before, but because the configuration is different, OMIGOD HOW WILL WE EVER MANAGE IT.

Maybe by paying attention?

There is a word that can't be repeated often enough to those who threaten to boycott downtown because two-way streets will require them to drive a tad more slowly and (heaven forbid) pay attention to the community outside their car windows:

Promise?

Even before the mayor has mounted his first self-congratulatory plaque, indignant pass-through drivers are screaming about gridlock, and as usual, Jeff Gillenwater provides the most devastating refutation of these spasms:

If people have to wait for more than a traffic light or two in downtown New Albany after having already sped through the neighborhood, traffic is "backed up" and that's usually just because too many drivers aren't smart enough to take alternate routes all of two blocks in either direction from Spring. It often takes me longer to exit the interstate via the 9th Street ramp in Louisville than it does to navigate the "traffic" in downtown New Albany. It's a lot like parking perception: There are typically so few problems with automobile congestion in Downtown New Albany, any seems like a lot. Those frustrated drivers, though, like to take it out on everybody else once they hit the ramps, driving 70-75 mph and weaving in and out of lanes because everybody knows that it's well worth risking multiple lives to keep them from being five minutes late to wherever they're going. I mean, they might not have time for a second cup of coffee at their destination before they have to get started with their work. If everybody driving a car was 1/3 as important as a lot of them seem to think they are, I could roll down my windows and chat with Nobel Prize winners every morning.

Perhaps my favorite of all was the man who said he'd be taking his business to all the wonderful restaurants on Veterans Parkway.

Dude: don't make promises that you can't keep.

On the errant notion of bicycle licenses.


"I'll be working on the assumption that policy-making is a rational tool to create a better society, not a punishment for perceived irritants. This isn't always the case but it's a necessary premise: if you simply have a gut feeling that cyclists should be taught some sort of lesson and you're not interested in the evidence then there's no point even starting."

I used to take great joy in referring to these environs as the Open Air Museum of Ignorance, Superstition and Backwardness, but then I got ticketed for exceeding the syllable limit.

Yesterday during a discussion of sharrow symbols now adorning Vincennes Street -- admittedly a wretched, Rosenbargerian idea, and one revealing the ineptitude of officials unwilling to risk the installation of genuine bicycling infrastructure, either from timidity, stupidity or both -- it was suggested that bicyclists be licensed.

Let's quickly refute this car-centric twaddle. Perhaps the Aussie vantage point is best (just keep blaming the usual victims, drivers), but there'll be two others.

18 reasons why registering bicycles is a bad idea, by Michael O'Reilly (Executive Style)

Right, that's it. Enough already. I'm so tired of hearing the same contention being trotted out every time bicycles are mentioned.

I refer, of course, to the ongoing clamour that cyclists need to be registered.

Show me a news report to do with bicycles, and I'll show you someone on social media or a comments thread carrying on about bicycle registration as if it's the most urgent thing in road safety.

A bike-riding man killed in a "dooring" incident in Melbourne? "Cyclists should be registered." A cycling young woman crushed by a truck in Brisbane's CBD? "They should pay rego."

This week, news about a bill to legislate a safe minimum passing distance when cars overtake bikes drew comments such as "I'll give them space when they pay to be on the roads". Charming.

The problem with such misguided contentions is that they become a form of groupthink. If people hear such things repeatedly, it becomes acceptable to them.

It can also breed animosity - which can spill onto our roads, creating dangerous hostility and intolerance.

In truth, the angry voices are in the minority. Most Australians accept and even support cycling - after all, more bicycles are sold than cars every year. Even among people who don't ride for transport, a survey showed 60 per cent would like to do so – but many say they are too scared.

And Chicago:

Why Bicycle Licensing (Almost) Never Works, by Whet Moser (Chicago)

I’ve said it over and over again: if you really, truly want to improve cyclist compliance with the law, there are countries that do it well—especially the Netherlands—and they do it in part through a comprehensive educational system for cyclists and drivers alike that begins in elementary school. (Their form of driver’s education is also more comprehensive, and traffic fatalities have fallen faster there than in the United States in recent decades.) The Active Transportation Alliance’s Ron Burke gave Biasco some similar suggestions. You get what you put in. Contrary to the beliefs of most newspaper columnists, merely intoning the words “fixie” and “hipster” like a curse is just an exercise in filling copy quotas.

On the other hand, bike licenses have been tried throughout North America, and what you usually get is a bureaucratic facepalm.

Finally the United Kingdom (the lead quote comes from this article):

Why regulating cyclists is unnecessary and harmful, by Peter Walker (The Guardian)

Why don't cyclists have compulsory licencing, training and insurance? Because it would be utterly pointless

Cycling and cyclists are good for society; good for everyone, in fact. You might not like our funny, Lycra-wearing ways, but it's an undeniable truth. If 50% of a hypothetical city's car drivers abandoned their vehicles overnight for bikes it would slash pollution and congestion (for the remaining drivers, too), also bringing less wear to the roads and better health for the new cyclists. It would additionally, at a stroke, dramatically cut the numbers of people killed or badly hurt on the roads, saving millions of pounds and – more importantly – reducing the number of lives lost or devastated through grief or grave injury.

We have lots to discuss in New Albany, and bicycle licensing isn't one of those topics.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

THE BEER BEAT: Thanks to Mesa (A Collaborative Kitchen) for a great inaugural beer night.

Photo credit: Jonathan Morones.

Already there was a palpable nervousness (in me, not the paying customers) -- and then Jeff Gillenwater showed up.

THE BEER BEAT: Read about my "Beer Night" at Mesa next Wednesday (August 23) with Chef Ruben Freibert's appetizers.

I was a tad rusty, and a few synapses failed to fire, but overall last evening's gingerly dipped toe of a first-time-in-two-years beer sampling went fairly well. Thanks to everyone who turned out; to Chef Ruben Freibert for his nibbles (and our borrowed server Brett); and to the whole crew at Mesa.

We briefly surveyed the basics of the brewing process, local brewing history and the meaning of beer styles. There were great questions, and most importantly, it seemed that the attending samplers had a good time.

As I've written previously, lately I'm choosing to emulate the timeless wisdom of the hedgehog as I inch down the comeback trail, confining myself to one big idea rather than an array of smaller ones.

This big idea goes something like this: “In terms of better beer, there still is a market for what I know how to do – and correspondingly, what I know how to do is undervalued in today’s beer marketplace.”

This pertains to the future pub project in development, and also to my talk last night. What I know how to do is educate and entertain in comfortable confines, and what I’ve learned not to do is try conquering the world. I’m hoping that accumulated insights will help me avoid previous missteps. Wednesday evening was important to me as an opening experiment to test the hypothesis, which goes something like this:

What we were doing at the Public House 25 years ago was a process of deep acclimatization borne of incessant education – and such efforts seem to have gone completely by the wayside. Hardly anyone has the patience for it these days, and our collective shrinkage of attention spans has led to marketing by electronic flash card. Everyone knows a little bit, but their knowledge is a mile wide and a hop pellet deep. 

I think many beer drinkers would still appreciate the facts, and this is something I can do. We're way past the point of being able to know all of the beers. Better, perhaps, to have a more intimate and rewarding relationship with just a few of them -- at a time.

I'll probably be doing another tasting at Mesa in October, and someone from World Class Beverage will be there in September. Mesa's a comfy spot for a beer tasting, so I'll try to keep readers posted.

Finally, Jeff and I stopped at Match (147 E. Main) for a beer afterward. Be advised that Match is keeping the excellent Founders Porter on tap, among others. It really hit the spot on a comfortable, old-fashioned August night.

ON THE AVENUES: PourGate (the Great Beer Pour War of 2013) and Dr. Tom's prescription: "Kneel and Kiss My Ring, You Degraded Alcoholic."

ON THE AVENUES: PourGate (the Great Beer Pour War of 2013) and Dr. Tom's prescription: "Kneel and Kiss My Ring, You Degraded Alcoholic."

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.

Loyal readers, it's been four long years since PourGate, the Great Beer Pour War of 2013.

On June 14, 2013, the New Albanian Brewing Company was peaceably vending beer at Bicentennial Park, by means of a supplemental catering permit issued by the company's governing agency, the Indiana Alcohol and Tobacco Commission.

The Floyd County Health Department arrived and said that NABC also needed a temporary food serving permit.

I said no, that's incorrect.

They persisted, and a two-year-long struggle commenced. Spoiler: they lost. For a complete compendium of NAC links telling the story of PourGate, go here:

May 20, 2015: PourGate 2013: It took two years, but this new law silences Dr. Tom Harris and the Floyd County Health Department.

It's all plague under the pustules now, but don't be surprised if this inscription appears on my tombstone: "He Helped Vanquish the Health Fascists in the Great Beer Pour War, Then Died Anyway Just Like Everyone Else."

To mark the occasion, here's a reprint of the single most read "guest column" in the blog's history (August 1, 2013).

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ON THE AVENUES:  "Kneel and Kiss My Ring, You Degraded Alcoholic."

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor. Today's guest columnist is Dr. Thomas Harris.

In the interest of fairness, I've invited Dr. Tom Harris, much decorated generalissimo of the Floyd County Health Department, to write this guest column offering his side of the recent unpleasantness. Looking at the whole situation dispassionately, Dr. Harris and I have quite a lot in common. Both of us were born, grew up, went to school, and received college degrees. I'm a professional in my field, as he is in his. In fact, it is to be imagined that we undulate, conjugate, ejaculate and defecate in similar ways, if not exactly the same -- unless, of course, he’s a space alien, and he is, and so the following is satire, pure and simple.

If you assume I’ll begin this essay by thanking a lowly brewer for affording a rebuttal to his serial insolence, think again.

One should never assume -- you'll make an ass out of yourself, certainly not me, because after all, I'm a doctor. The grandeur of my medical world view inevitably comes with the position, i.e., the rarefied territory of my critical role as guarantor of public health and safety.

The rest of you should just get the hell out of my way.

Let's get right down to brass tacks. Baylor, how dare you suggest that beer and brewing constitutes a “profession” in the same sense as a board-certified emergency medical pioneer like me. Every single day, our trained medical elites soothe suffering and save lives.

And you? You slouch at the tavern, sink into your cups, ruin your liver and foster bitterness toward those laudable over-achievers who possess my skill set and sheer dedication to public health and safety – whether the public understands any of it or not.

Because they seldom do, and mine is a tireless task, indeed.

It probably has escaped your notice, since not one of you care very much about public health and safety, not to mention your own disgusting standards of personal hygiene, but vast numbers of our fellow Americans are clueless sheep wallowing in a medieval squalor of bacteria. If not for the efforts of selfless heroes like me, you'd doubtless be bathing daily in your own raw sewage.

You really must see yourselves some time. Your filthy, germ-ridden body parts hang flabby and exposed from inadequate, scant clothing. You continue to smoke cigarettes even after we kicked you outside. You have sex before you’re married, refuse to use condoms, decline to exercise, and “dine” regularly on Big Gulps and Fritos. Any of you ever met a whole fried chicken, deep-fried Twinkie or fat-laden burger you wouldn’t stuff by the dozen into your gaping pie holes? I didn’t think so.

We try our best to ban all these substances that hurt you, but do you thank us? No, you just keep babbling about your right to determine your own destiny and live your own lives, as though we can tolerate free will when pathogens are everywhere. What have we become in America, a nation of philosophers?

And when it comes to the crux of the recent episodes, and why on earth we’d need anyone’s permission at all to regulate temporary beer pouring or any other activity deemed appropriate for saving you from yourselves, has it ever occurred to any of you that all of these dreadful materials you insist on ingesting are manufactured by food producers with an even lower opinion of you than me?

Furthermore, they have absolutely no respect for us as regulators and preservers of public health and safety. Every single one of those restaurants, lunch counters, taquerias, hot dog stands, food trucks, bistros and sushi joints bring in money hand over fist.

Do you think for one moment that local government funds the health department the way ordinary people throw money at some guy wrapping bacon around a cream puff? Not that local government has any money, because a lower tax burden is better for all of us, and the more golf you play, the more you know that if not for the GOP, we’d have even less funding for inspections. But we’re all white folks here, and I needn’t remind you of your obligations.

That’s what galls me about my own health department board being all namby pamby and saying Baylor doesn’t have to pay fees for his temporary permits.

When I said during the hearing that money doesn’t matter, what I meant was that I know far better how money matters and doesn’t matter than any of you cretins. As without doubt the leading element in society, we doctors are in the best position to make such judgments, and that’s why this whole shakedown started, anyway, because if New Albany’s mayor says it’s okay for ambulances to go to any hospital, and not be forced to use Floyd Memorial, then how’re we going to maintain the monopoly … er, I mean the monopoly on public health and safety, of course.

Why can’t you pathetic maladroit plebes grasp what I’m telling you? After me, it’s the deluge. You prattle on and on about answers, and how you’re entitled to the truth about the health department’s comprehensive program to control what goes down your gullets, so let me tell you something.

You can't handle the truth!

Baylor, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with syringes. Who's gonna do it? You? Lee Cotner? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the ATC, and you curse the health care supermen. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that my random personal opinions about food safety, while unsupported by Indiana law or precedent, saves lives; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.

You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at beer parties, you want me on that wall -- you need me on that wall.

We use words like "honor," "that’ll be $20," and "superior intellect." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a drunkard who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very public health and safety that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it.

I would rather that you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up some hand sanitizer and stand the post. Either way, I don't give a DAMN what you think you're entitled to!

I do the job I was chosen to … and you're god damn right I made it all up on a whim! Now, be a good little boy and obey your elders.

After all, there’s no pluralism in a foxhole, juvenile.

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Recent columns:

August 17: ON THE AVENUES: Love in the time of choleric Coffey, though it's nice of Deaf Gahan to support the K of C's political agenda.

August 10: ON THE AVENUES: Super Tuesday shrapnel – or, tiptoeing through the tulips with Dan Coffey, now THE face of historic preservation in New Albany.

August 3: ON THE AVENUES: On the importance of being ancient.

July 27: ON THE AVENUES: Irish history with a musical chaser.

Richard Florida and the "creative class," 15 years on.


NA Confidential was born in 2004. Until some time around 2006 or 2007, there was no mechanism on Blogger.com to tag posts with searchable labels.

Since then, the label "creative class" has appeared here only four times, most recently in 2013. By contrast, if I look back to the pre-label era, "creative class" was mentioned as many as 20 times (or more) in 2005 and 2006. Chronologically, this makes sense given that Richard Florida's original book on the topic was released circa 2002.

The point is this: both Florida's concept of a "creative class" and our discussion about it are subject to evolution. They change as conditions change, and that's what "dynamic" is all about, as contrasted with "static."

Two perspectives follow. In the first, the author is more willing to allow Florida a chance to chart the evolution of his characterization.

The Evolution Of The Creative Class, by Pete Saunders (Forbes)

When I was in college and first became politically aware, so to speak, was in the '80s when Ronald Reagan was president. Many people from that era remember that perhaps the principal economic theory driving his election in 1980 was the theory of supply side economcs, or that lower barriers on regulations would lead to more goods and services available to consumers, at a lower price. Related to supply side economics was the so-called "trickle-down" theory, meaning that lower taxes on the wealthy would have a stimulative effect on the economy -- job creators would create more jobs, greater corporate profits would result in higher worker wages. Back then, I didn't buy it because I thought the world's corporate titans would keep the profits for themselves and invest in the business, rather than people. In my opinion, that's pretty much proven to be correct.

When Richard Florida arrived on the scene some fifteen years ago with his book "The Rise of the Creative Class", he seemed to be proposing something very similar to supply-side or trickle-down economic theory. His thesis was that the cities that were thriving were doing so because of the success of those in the creative economy -- talented and educated professionals who worked in knowledge-based industries like business and finance, technology, healthcare and medicine, law, and education. He argued that cities that employed the creative class strategy, reorganizing their built environment to accommodate the needs and desires of creative class types, would find themselves stronger and more prosperous than they'd ever been, because the impact would trickle down to all sectors of the urban economy. I initially bought that idea, because after decades of people -- and money -- flowing away from cities, I believed cities needed the infusion of capital for revitalization.

How far we've all come since then.

Wetherell takes a narrower view. As for those of us here in New Albany chatting about the creative class 13 years ago, and noticing that we didn't seem to have one, I think we were doing the best we could with the evidence we had. There wasn't a politician or community "leader" with a better idea, was there?

As Jeff Gahan's putsch against affordable housing rolls forward, shouldn't we be asking: Are there any now?

Richard Florida Is Sorry, by Sam Wetherell (Jacobin)

For years, Richard Florida preached the gospel of the creative class. His new book is a mea culpa.

Richard Florida, one of the most influential thinkers about cities in postwar America, wants you to know that he got almost everything about cities wrong.

If you live in an urban center in North America, the United Kingdom, or Australia, you are living in Richard Florida’s world. Fifteen years ago, he argued that an influx of what he called the “creative classes” — artists, hipsters, tech workers — were sparking economic growth in places like the Bay Area. Their tolerance, flexibility, and eccentricity dissolved the rigid structures of industrial production and replaced them with the kinds of workplaces and neighborhoods that attracted more young people and, importantly, more investment.

His observations quickly formed the basis of a set of breezy technical solutions. If decaying cities wanted to survive, they had to open cool bars, shabby-chic coffee shops, and art venues that attract young, educated, and tolerant residents. Eventually, the mysterious alchemy of the creative economy would build a new and prosperous urban core.

Today, even Florida recognizes that he was wrong. The rise of the creative class in places like New York, London, and San Francisco created economic growth only for the already rich, displacing the poor and working classes. The problems that once plagued inner cities have moved to the suburbs ...

Here's one for Wendy: "How Corporate Welfare Is Killing Small Businesses."

(Infographic from Money Choice)

But, you know, River Ridge and all. Follow the link to examine the chart in greater detail.

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How Corporate Welfare Is Killing Small Businesses, by John White (Inc)

Despite being the backbone of the economy, funding from the Small Business Administration is a fraction of that of corporate welfare.

What is corporate welfare?
Corporate welfare is tax money that is given to corporations in order to encourage growth in a specific sector, stabilize a shaky sector, or avoid financial meltdown in a certain sector. Most notably we've seen this used to successfully avert a banking crisis in 2008, as well as the predicted collapse of the American auto industry between 2009 and 2013.

Big business wins big
Between 2000 and 2015, two-thirds of corporate welfare subsidies went to fewer than 600 large companies.

Small businesses can't compete
Even though small businesses are considered by many to be the backbone of our economy, accounting for 54% of all sales in the United States as well as the lion's share of job growth since the early 1990s, funding from the Small Business Administration is a fraction of that of corporate welfare. The SBA's budget was $1.4 billion in 2016, but the SBA only provides grants for nonprofits and educational institutions in certain growth sectors.

It does not provide direct loans to small businesses; instead, it provides guidelines for small business loans from lending institutions. You know, those big banks getting all the bailouts.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

THE BEER BEAT: Hew Ainslie, an early New Albany brewer and Scottish-American poet.

Hew Ainslie was New Albany's first commercial brewer. This biographical sketch below was written by Louisville goldsmith, writer and homebrewer Conrad Selle.

The sketch was first published in the FOSSILS newsletter circa 1994. Later it was a staple on the club's web site, and was reprinted at Potable Curmudgeon in 2005 and NA Confidential in 2012.

Many thanks to Conrad, whose tireless research into Louisville area brewing can be experienced in Louisville Breweries, co-written with Peter Guetig, and originally published in 1997. There was only one printing, but a few copies still are floating around. Just a few years ago, Peter was said to be preparing a revised edition, but I don't know if it was ever completed. If you have the information, please update me.

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Many early brewers worked their trade as a sideline or temporary trade before moving on to other occupations. Hew Ainslie is unique for having been principally a poet.

He was born at Bargany in Ayrshire, Scotland on April 5, 1792. Hew was the only son of George Ainslie, an employee on the estate of Sir Hew Dalrymple Hamilton. He was educated in the parish school at Ballantrae, and later at the academy at Ayr. In 1809 his family moved to Roslin, about six miles from Edinburgh. He married his cousin Janet Ainslie in 1812, whose brother Jock had married Hew's sister Eleanora.

Ainslie studied law in Glasgow, and worked as a clerk in the Register House in Edinburgh. In 1820 he revisited Ayrshire on foot with James Wellstood and John Gibson and in the next two years wrote A Pilgrimage to the Land of Burns, which was published in London in 1822. The book was an account of their travels and visits with some of Robert Burns's contemporaries, with songs and ballads by Ainslie that were much in the style of Burns, and illustrations by Wellstood.

In July, 1822, Ainslie sailed from Liverpool to New York with his friend Wellstood. Mrs. Ainslie and their three children joined him in the following year. Ainslie and Wellstood purchased Pilgrim's Repose, a farm at Hoosac Falls in Rensselaer County, New York. Ainslie and his family lived there for almost three years before joining Robert Owen's utopian socialist cooperative community at New Harmony, Indiana in 1825.

When Owen's community failed about a year later they moved first to Cincinnati, where Ainslie became a partner with Price and (Thomas) Wood in a brewery, then to Louisville. In Louisville, a town of 7,000, Ainslie opened a brewery in 1829 at 7th Street between Water and Main. Records show that B. Foster, Enoch Wenzell and Robert McKenzie worked there.

In February, 1832 there was a major flood of the Ohio River, with the river's waters rising to 46 feet above the low water level. A contemporary account of the "calamity" reads:

This was an unparalleled flood in the Ohio. It commenced on the 10th of February and continued until the 21st of that month, having risen to (an) extraordinary height ... above low-water mark. The destruction of property by this flood was immense. Nearly all the frame buildings near the river were either floated off or turned over and destroyed. An almost total cessation in business was the necessary consequence; even farmers from the neighborhood were unable to get to the markets, the flood having so affected the smaller streams as to render them impassable. The description of the sufferings by this flood is appalling ...

Ainslie's brewery was swept away with most of the neighborhood, but in the following years he remained in the beer business, working at the Nuttall brewery on the west side of 6th Street between Water and Main.

In 1840 he opened the first brewery in New Albany, the partnership of Bottomley & Ainslie. Soon that business was destroyed by fire. In the 1841 Louisville City Directory, Hew Ainslie is listed as a maltster; it was his last listing in the brewing trade. Discouraged by fire and flood, he gave up the brewing business altogether. Thereafter, his working life became somewhat intertwined with that of his children, particularly George and James Wellstood Ainslie.

Hew and Janet Ainslie had ten children, seven of them surviving to adulthood. George Ainslie, the eldest Ainslie son, had been apprenticed to Lachan McDougall around 1830 to learn the iron foundry and moulding trade, and he had acquired a solid business and technical education. He became a foreman at John Curry's foundry and married Mary Thirlwell, daughter of Charles Thirlwell, who was a brewer at the Nuttall Brewery (Hew Ainslie's one-time employer).

Thirlwell eventually acquired Nuttall and operated it until 1856. In 1842, George Ainslie became a partner in Gowan and McGhee's Boone Foundry. By 1845 Hew Ainslie -- still a poet throughout -- was employed as a finisher there as well as working as a contractor and in the building trades.

George and James Ainslie became highly successful in the foundry and machine business, enabling their father to devote more time to writing in later life. In 1853, Hew Ainslie made a long visit to New Jersey to visit members of the family of James Wellstood, undoubtedly providing the poet with a nostalgic link to the Scotland of his youth.

In 1855 a collection of Ainslie's verse, Scottish Songs, Ballads and Poetry, was published in New York. One latter-day commentator called Ainslie's songs of the sea "the best that Scotland has produced," and perhaps this assessment was borne out by the reception accorded Ainslie in Scottish literary circles in 1863, when he returned to Scotland for a final visit.

Janet Ainslie died in 1863 prior to Hew's last Scottish journey. In 1868 the elderly poet/brewer went to live with his son George in a new home on Chestnut Street (between 9th and 10th) in Louisville, where he spent the last decade of his life and was a familiar sight as he passed time tending the garden there. Ainslie died on March 6, 1878, and was eulogized in the Courier-Journal as "a poet of considerable merit to the people of his native land." Hew and Janet Ainslie are buried in Cave Hill Cemetery.

In addition to the many accomplishments noted previously, Ainslie is remembered for his height -- at 6 feet, 4 inches, he referred to himself in his works as "The Lang Linker" -- and for never losing his Scottish accent during almost six decades in America.

There is no specific information to be found as to the products of the breweries with which Hew Ainslie was involved in Louisville and New Albany, but we can surmise from the available evidence that they were typical small breweries of the time, with four or five employees, making ale, porter and stout. As a man who appreciated truth and beauty, it is likely that Hew Ainslie made good malt, and being conscientious with it, good beer as well.

The following poems by Hew Ainslie are copied from the Filson Historical Society's extremely rare copy of A Pilgrimage to the Land of Burns and Poetry, Ainslie's 1822 work combined with later efforts and reprinted in 1892, the centenary of his birth.

(Author's note: I have heard a scrap or two of Robert Burns, and expect these are much better read aloud in Scots dialect.)

THE DAFT DAYS.
The midnight hour is clinking, lads,
An' the douce an' the decent are winking, lads;
Sae I tell ye again,
Be't weel or ill ta'en,
It's time ye were quatting your drinking, lads.
Gae ben, 'an mind your gauntry, Kate,
Gi'es mair o' your beer, an' less bantry, Kate,
For we vow, whaur we sit,
That afore we shall flit,
We'se be better acquaint wi' your pantry, Kate.
The "daft days" are but beginning, Kate,
An we're sworn. Would you hae us a sinning, Kate?
By our faith an' our houp,
We will stick by the stoup
As lang as the barrel keeps rinning, Kate.
Thro' hay, an' thro' hairst, sair we toil it, Kate,
Thro' Simmer, an' Winter, we moil it, Kate;
Sae ye ken, whan the wheel
Is beginning to squeal,
It's time for to grease an' to oil it, Kate.
Sae draw us anither drappy, Kate,
An' gie us a cake to our cappy, Kate;
For, by spiggot an' pin!
It's waur than a sin
To flit when we're sitting sae happy, Kate.

LET'S DRINK TO OUR NEXT MEETING.
Let's drink to our next meeting, lads,
Nor think on what's atwixt;
They're fools wha spoil the present hour
By thinking on the next.
Then here's to Meg o' Morningside,
An Kate o' Kittlemark;
The taen she drank her hose and shoon,
The tither pawned her sark.
A load o' wealth, an' wardly pelf,
They say is sair to bear;
Sae he's a gowk would scrape an' howk
To make his burden mair

Then here's , &c.
Gif Care looks black the morn, lads,

As he's come doon the lum,
Let's ease our hearts by swearing, lads,
We never bade him come.
Then here's, &c.
Then here's to our next meeting, lads,
Ne'er think on what's atwixt;
They're fools who spoil the present hour
By thinking on the next.
Then here's, &c.

THE HOOSIER .
We lads that live up in the nobs,
Tho' our manners might yet bear a rubbing,
We're handy at neat little jobs
Such as chopping and hewing and grubbing.
Tho' we roost in a cabin of logs,
And clapboards lie 'twixt us and heaven,
Our mast makes us fine oily hogs,
And from hoop-poles we pick a good living.
Right quiet -- to a decent degree --
it's seldom we guzzle it deep, Sir,
Tho' we don't mind a bit of a spree,
Provided the liquor is cheap, Sir.
Our neighbours, that live 'cross the drink.
May laugh at our fondness for cider,
But so long as we pocket their clink
They may laugh till their mouths they grow wider.
Our gals make our trousers, you see,
From that beautiful stuff called tow linen,
and in coats of the linsey -- dang me,
If we don't look both handsome and winning.
Our wives are our weavers, to boot;
Ourselves are first rate on a shoe, Sir;
We can doctor a tub with a hoop --
And hark ! we're our own ni__ers* too, Sir,
So here's to our Hoosier land,
The sons of its soil and its waters !
May the "nullies" ne'er get it in hand,
Nor demagogues tear it in tatters.
But still may it flourish and push,
Thro' vetos and all such tough cases,
Till railroads are common as brush,
And the nobs are as sleek as your faces.

*To provide context to Ainslie's use of the "N" word, "The Hoosier" was intended as an anti-nullification poem -- a direct slap at the slave-owning caste south of the Ohio River, and a self-mocking espousal of the poor but free residents to the north. If any reader can shed further light on the history involved, please do so.