I like to take the long way around. It is so monotonous to rip up and down MacCorkle Avenue, joining the other mad souls jockeying for position.
In the car, I get to listen to my music, sing way out of tune and range, and enjoy some alone time.
One of the little pleasures is to really go out of your way and go down Chesterfield Avenue in KC and follow it East (or SE) until it dumps back onto MacCorkle.
Once you get past Lower Donnally, the whole feeling changes. Here telephone poles, paralleling the railroad tracks, look like they haven't been upgraded since the 1920's. Wires hang loose. It all looks forgotten and abandoned.
I'm sure the people who live along here wouldn't appreciate my assessment. Especially those who live on 57th Street SE. It's is a little "holler," despite being within KC limits. Is it just me or does the guy in the dark blue look like he's getting frisky with some corn stalks??? I won't comment on the gourd.
Then there's this house that once was really a great home. It sits all by its lonesome, looking kind of sad. Now windows are boarded up, the weeds rule and ain't nobody home.
Then there's the crown jewel of KC bars: Jocko's. I've never had the displeasure of having a drink there, but I plan on making the scence soon. Yeah. Anybody want to come get their ass kicked with me? Good times.
While I stopped to take the snap, some joker gave me the long stare. I looked at him, he stared back. A lot of local bars think themselves so "swave and dee-boner" when they have a bit of private gambling going on. Yeehah! Bet you the stakes are high. What's it cost to get in? Five dollars?
Though we needn't go far from home to see the glorious lack of sophistication so well known to designated redneck zones (or RZs to the layman). I snapped this.
All in all, I love where I live and though the "real people" live in South Hills- a place to which I aspire, but realize I will never be accepted-KC is still full of unexpected beauty, and a few laughs.