By Steve Flairty
NKyTribune columnist
Emanating from the “Too Much Time on My Hands Department” located on a flower-laden, one-acre lot in Versailles and proclaiming the good things about the state of Kentucky, please allow my natural sense of whimsy a few moments of your time. Not sure if doing so will change your life for the better, but it may prove a temporary escape from the often raw, debilitating reality of much of today’s news headlines.
That said, here is a list of Kentucky-related books you probably won’t find in any bookstore or library, mainly because as far as I know, they don’t exist. Don’t go looking for the authors, either; they exist only in my mind (possibly brain fog from Covid, though it’s been a couple of years).
On a more serious note, I have plenty of real books and real people related to Kentucky to share, either from my past columns or future ones. Please don’t give up on me as I harvest this bad crop year of corn with you:
• Your Bourbon Style, by Emma Sipper and Mia Chugger
• Derby Girls Racing, by Phil E. Fast-Hooves
• Yellow Autumn, by Golden Rodd
• The Curse of the Blackberry Patch, by Lotta Chiggers
• A Crop Up in Smoke, by Burl E. Grower
• Mind If I Walk on Your Bluegrass? by Dona Kera Atoll
• Storm over Bluegrass Airport, by Landon Ruff
• How to Box Like Ali, by Fletcher Mussells and Tippy Tose
• Kentucky Burgoo, by Stew Yum-Goode
• Bernheim in the Spring, by Forrest Green and Leif Haven
• Politics with Harmony in the Bluegrass State, by Faith Dwindlin and Miles A. Part
• Duke Fans in Kentucky, by Harley Eny and I. B. Loner
• Climbing through the Darkness of Mammoth Cave, by Ophelia Wayaroun
• Political Fundraising in Kentucky, by Amelia A. Check and Cash Ferfavors
• Now Who is that Kentucky Lieutenant Governor Again? by Drew A. Blanc
• Weeding Your Kentucky Garden, by Denise R. Hurtin and Aylin Back
• Fishing with Only a Cane Pole, by Rod Stolen
• Salad Fixin’s in the Bluegrass, by Raul Unyans, Olive Choppings, and Red Maters
• Catchin’ Your Kentucky Spouse, by Noah Guy and Mary Rich
• Equine Neighbors, by Keene Land and Cal U. Mett
• Real Estate in the Kentucky Lowlands, by Phil Dirt
• Cal’s Young Hoopsters at Rupp, by Kit E. Katz
• Kentucky Day Trips for Kids, by Ari Ther-Yet
• I’ve Never Played the Kentucky Lottery, by I.M. Lyon
• Traveling Kentucky on $10 Per Day, by Titus Guy Ino
• Jesses James and His Kentucky Connection, by Robin Banks
• A Kentuckian and His Dog, by Waylen Hound and Willie Byte
• Ricky the Cardinal Flies Over the State, by Birdie Droppins and Redd Cherper
Told you it was bad.
In a few weeks, I plan to attend the fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration of my college roommate and lifelong friend, Jim Palm, and his wife, Beth, who live in Claryville. High school sweethearts, both are top-notch people and long-time Kentucky educators. It’s been special to know them.
Jim and I became friends as classmates at Grant’s Lick Elementary School in the sixties, and later were roommates for two years at EKU. I was honored to serve as Jim’s best man at his wedding, and we’ve kept in touch for over six decades. He has a sense of humor that won’t quit, something he acquired from Raymond Palm, his father—a solid man of character and one who died much too young in 1997.
Jim’s the consummate “good guy,” and I’ll share one of the many reasons I say this. In 1999, he donated one of his kidneys to save the life of his sister. “I was given the opportunity,” he stated matter-of-factly. When asked if he was a willing donor at the time of his sister’s need, he said: “You’re my sister. I’m going to take care of you. The answer is yes and will always be yes.” All this while in the midst of a challenging career as a school superintendent that saw much success and respect given to him.
I was glad when in 2008, I included Jim in the first volume of my Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes book series. As for our friendship, it’s a good feeling for each of us to know where each other “came from.” We do. So, at Jim and Beth’s celebration, they’ll likely be reminiscing, laughter, and a whole lot of appreciation. That’s the way it should be.
I am blessed.
