Historic Preservation Month

May is a great month for many reasons - Kentucky Derby, Mother's Day, Memorial Day, and Flowers. Now, add another reason to the list, it's also Historic Preservation Month. I'm not going to get on my soapbox, well maybe, we'll see how it ends up. But to start, one of my favorite quotes, one that articulates my feelings about preservation:


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A Look Back- May 12 & 13, 2004

As we continue our celebration of 7 years of Beavers and Ducks, we have reached one of the greatest stories ever told. And I'm not just talking about Beavers and Ducks. I'm talking about EVER. It's a story so great that it received two posts on back to back days. Today, in their entirety, the posts from May 12 and 13, 2004, interspersed with 2011 commentary.

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Derby 137: The Fourth Act
05.10.2011 9:00PM
For the fourth consecutive year I, and a legion of friends, made the trek back to my Old Kentucky Home for the Kentucky Derby. Once again my parents were kind enough to open their home to us and not only provide us space to pass out, but also, provide us copious amounts of food - BBQ pulled pork and Derby pie - to be exact. And while a few regulars were missing, there were a handful of virgins to break in, and thanks to ideal weather, this may have been the best one yet. Here's just a few observations from what is definitely my favorite weekend of the year.

- It goes so fast. But when you think about it, its really just a 36 hour event by the time my friends arrive late afternoon on Friday and head back before lunch on Sunday. Not to mention at least half of the time is spent either drinking or drunk.

Speaking of such, I was without my right hand man at the Liquor Barn on Friday afternoon. So Mark had to substitute for Keith, and he made an adequate replacement. That 45 minute adventure is definitely like a kid in a candy store experience.

- Some things never change. Mom will tell me that Friday night is the drunkest she's seen me. My friends will go gaga over the BBQ pulled pork and Derby Pie. We'll think of new ways to sneak booze into the infield. And each year, its like its the first time.

- We were so successful sneaking booze in this year, that by late afternoon we were out of chasers and left with straight up vodka and bourbon. But at that point it really doesn't matter, just ask Jeff.

- While some people may say its just a drunken party in a large field with a few friends and bunch of strangers, that's where they're wrong. It's much more than that to me. It's about my friends who come and then return year after year (At least 17 friends have been a part of the Momma Dowell Extravaganza). I get to show off my family, my city, and the greatest two minutes in sports. I get to show them what makes me, me. And I know its not possible for all my friends to come every year, don't think I don't realize the ones I've invited every year and have yet to come. They probably won't be getting an invite next yet. And we'll still be friends, but seriously, what the fuck?

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