Background information: my lovely abode.

Saturday nights are interesting around my home. It's a single room at the end of a shotgun shack converted to an art gallery, nestled lovingly between three Irish bars. In the heart of the Baxter Avenue corridor in Louisville, my main domestic issues are:

1) thumping bass until 4am on weekends
2) alcohol induced domestic squabbles
3) "Hey, dude. Don't pee on my house."
4) woooooooooooot!

It's enough to make one disrespect the bar scene. I happen to know the owners of most of these places and the O'Shea brothers are actually some of the coolest small business owners I've ever dealt with. I can't tell you how many things I learned just from watching them run their spots. Constantly upgrading. When other places went for flash they went for custom built varnished woodwork, old school style. Their chef is an anarcho-conservationist. So for the sake of the owners being cool, I try not to go out and assault their customers even when they break up with their drunk girlfriend on my doorstep at 3am on Wednesday.

There are advantages. No neighbors once the gallery closes. No one complains when I drop the bass. And a lot of the time the vast drunken mob is pretty entertaining. Somehow it's like being right up on the pulse of the city. Make no mistake- Bardstown and Baxter are the soul of Louisville.

I do need a better place to live though. Hmmm.