A few weeks ago, I took a pic of Louisville's historic Water Tower and pumping station overlooking the Ohio River.  The infallible wikipedia says it's the oldest ornamental water tower in the world -- having been built by the Sumerians, but that sounds a little fishy.  The property is a civic treasure, serving as a space for the Louisville Visual Arts Association, which hosts numerous events throughout the year like DinnerWorks, a celebration of art-inspired dinnerware.  It also hosts events like music festivals, including the Louisville Jazz Festival; and Abbey Road on the River, an annual Beatles fest.

Here's my picture, looking from River Road.  There was some kind of kids soccer game going on at the time.



When the Louisville Water Company built a new corporate headquarters downtown, they decided to incoporate some of the look of the original Water Tower in the facade of the modern glassy building.
( The result? )

As I think I mentioned before, I've heard a lot about this "21st century" from our young President-elect, so I decided I should use my birthday money to buy a digital camera.  Well I braved Best Buy on Black Friday.... aside from finding a place to park, it wasn't that bad an experience (notwithstanding the voluptuous girls who think they should wear low-rise jeans a day after Thanksgiving).

So with my dog Friday, we set out to take some pictures of my gentrifying, historic neighborhood, Clifton.   Here's a map, with our route in red:



( want to see? )

This was in the LEO (Louisville Eccentric Observer), Luavul's alternative newspaper:

By Stephen George

I didn’t know quite what to expect.

The information, which had arrived via a third party, was thin and inexact, although essentials were there. The kitchen was perhaps on the small side. So long as you’re consumers of fresh goods, she’d said, the smaller fridge won’t be bothersome. A coffee shop was across the street, and although the house sat on the thoroughfare that delivers car commuters from downtown back east during evening rush hour, the neighbors were nice enough, maybe a few were a little rough, but overall people got along and were responsive. 

Amid all that, I fixated on the incredible rent. Four-hundred-and-fifty dollars a month, a full $200 less than the apartment my girlfriend and I had been splitting just off Bardstown Road, in a grit-polished sort of bohemian district. We would sacrifice a few high-quality restaurants, a liquor store, a record shop, two coffee shops, a handful of bars, a gas station — but it also meant roughly one story a month less for me, a struggling freelance writer, and maybe one more night a week off for her, the college student trying to keep her loans under control.