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Opinion

  • At about 5:45 last Wednesday morning, I saw a photograph of the flames.

    They were bright and beautiful in their red, orange and gold deadliness, these flames. They were growing and scary and mesmerizing.

    Joseph Vance, guitarist extraordinaire and downtown resident, awakened by the fearsome smell of smoke, went into the cold March morning and saw downtown Shelbyville on fire.

  • We have sympathy for the residents of the Hunter’s Pointe development just south of Simpsonville.

    First, two companies come along and say they’re going to build mega-sized outlet malls nearby – one of them in some of their backyards – and now the approval of those projects have been followed by the East Kentucky Power Coopeerative, which may build a substation and/or power towers for lines in or near those same homes.

  • Even the most optimistic among us is fretting now about what will happen to the fire-gashed hole on the southwest side of Main Street in Shelbyville’s business district.

    Public officials were as distraught as residents of the four-block incineration were relieved Wednesday morning, following the horrible blaze that erupted. And both groups had real validation for those feelings.

    Four men escaped the blaze, thanks to good work by landlords and aggressive police officer Kelly Malone, who deserves our praise as well.

  • Perhaps you’ve heard the old joke about the woman who received a call from her bank informing her that she had overdrawn her account. “That’s impossible,” responded the obviously offended woman. “I can’t be overdrawn – I still have checks!”

  • I have sat around long enough without making a public statement about this issue. If you don't believe that it is actually happening by now, then the reason you won't accept it is one or all of the following:

    1.    You have some monetary gain, through maybe your stock, or a similar situation, so you just continue to say that it is all a bunch of hogwash.

  • The higher math being taught at our schools these days isn’t in the classrooms of honors and Advance Placement courses but, rather, in the public gatherings of the Shelby County Board of Education.

  • In the nearly 221 years that Shelby County has been recording official history, there are two words of excellence that we can’t find in the index: Academy Award.

    For all the wonderful artists, actors and thespians who have trod the boards in Shelby County and gone on to bigger and better things, none has appeared on of those brief but incredibly esteemed lists of actors who have gone home with the gold statuette they call Oscar.

    But now maybe we can add those words to our lore, even if we have to put an * beside it.

  • As a child I sometimes heard adults talk about a place called the “poor house.”

    I didn’t know what it was or where it was, although I envisioned it somewhere near Waddy, which seemed like a place across the universe to a kid who grew up near Simpsonville.

    The poor house was amorphous, but it was also scary. It sounded dark and forbidding and where kids wouldn’t be welcome.

  • We are seeing encouraging signals that Shelby County Fiscal Court and the Shelbyville City Council are on the verge of accomplishing something magnificent and wonderful, even if it is at least a decade overdue:

    Officials of the county and city appear moving toward establishing curbside pickup of garbage and recycling for all residents.

    We don’t mean to be presumptuous, because no ordinance has been drafted or presented. A misstep or politics or fear could emerge, and the public again could be left holding its own trash bags.

  • Dr. Benjamin Rush was the chief medical counsel to Thomas Jefferson and a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Dr. Rush is also famous for advocating a medical treatment that proved to be incredibly disastrous. He advocated bleeding the patient as a cure for a wide range of illnesses.

  • I do not like to publicly attack others on their letters to the editor, but since Eugene Maynard has made a career of doing just that, a past letter of mine included, I feel I am justified to “do to him what he has done to me.” Maynard’s rant (“The Presidential gun-grab,” My Word, Jan. 30) is nothing more than a rant.

    In doing a little research on the Internet, I found Sen. Rand Paul’s untruthful scare letter sent to supporters in which the senator and Eugene Maynard give out the same misinformation.

  • We aren’t certain just yet if we want to embrace the downhill snowball that the legalization of industrial hemp has become, but all this discussion and rapid movement by our elected leaders certainly have our undivided attention.

    That state Sen. Paul Hornback (R-Shelbyville) was able to push his bill to accommodate hemp through the state Senate in just a couple of weeks of the session is remarkable. That he had an all-star lineup of Republican endorsements is impressive.

  • We can’t imagine a student having a better senior year than Sam Saarinen. Certainly, he is making Shelby County look very good in the educational world.

    In case you haven’t been keeping up with Sam, a student at the Gatton Academy of Mathematics in Bowling Green, let us tell you just what he has accomplished.

    First, he made a perfect score on the American College Test, something only a few hundred students do each year.

  • So let me get this straight: In 1976 the federal government decided that we would devote February to the celebration and development of African-American history, calling it Black History Month and expanding it from a whole week. Are we to take from that, after having spent so many centuries denying African-Americans as being whole parts of society, that 28 days each year seems a fair mortgage payment against that debt?

  • I love my love an awful lot
    but there are times I love him NOT!
    Like when I want to watch my soaps
    and he would rather dash my hopes
    by telling me that there's no way
    I'd ever hear my hero say
    "I love you me more than life itself"
    and I should put him on the shelf.

    I stay up late, he turns in early,
    I like hair straight, he likes it curly,
    There's no telling why he moans,
    when I ask him he just groans
    and tells me that I'm crazy..

  • Shelby County so often has appeared to be moving in the slow lane when it comes to matters of highways and byways – see the Shelbyville Bypass, if you will – that our recent giddiness about the expedited replacement for the deadly interchange at KY 55 and Interstate 64 sometimes seems like a bit of a dream.

    That project is moving along quickly, right through the winter months, and we would have bet our asphalt that we wouldn’t have seen such activity in our lifetimes. We only can assume a more dedicated contractor was hired this time.

  • The presentation Sunday at Stratton Center about the bits and pieces of recorded African-American history in Shelby County is the wonderful culmination of a long-since-due step in preserving that piece of our ancestral pie.

    We often feel that much of the story of African-Americans in the nearly 221 years of Shelby County are lost in the anecdotes and in the dwindling in the memories of a few in our county. There are so many rich stories that we fear would be lost, if not for the dedication of the volunteers from the Shelby County Historical Society.

  • If you know me and grasp that I have spent a large portion of my life in the shadows of Disney World, you might be surprised to learn that there are places in Kentucky that I have visited innumerable times and yet always have returned with a gift of something ineffable.

    To have survived the daily assault of tee-shirts and billboards perhaps left me inured to overwhelming promotion and more embracing of our state’s precious jewels, even if they are sadly too often unpolished to the sheen you see of their peers elsewhere.

  • The aging athlete is a pitiful thing in America, especially when their glory days are more a matter of our own conjecture than any pen-and-ink record of accomplishment. Yes, I am guilty, and so what? I was a better-than-average high school baseball player and a terribly reluctant and, therefore, less-than-average high school football player. But since I have qualified for the Senior Discount at Burger King, I have tried to maintain some semblance of athleticism.

  • Watching the Super Bowl on Sunday night left me an emotional wreck. And, no, it had nothing to do with the lights-out, down-to-the-wire, officials-blown finish, however dramatic you might have considered that to be.

    I didn’t care who won between Edgar Allen Poe’s team and John Wilson Marshall’s team.