Farewell to Josephine Street

At long last, after ten years, ten roommates (not counting D), about 200 parties and innumerable meals of pasta with pepperoni sauce, csirke tokany with dumplings, fried chicken, pasta Bella Note and flatiron steak, it is with mixed regret and joy that I announce to you that the saga of Josephine Street is drawing to its close. Friday, November 21, 2009, Mary and I closed on our first house, on Circle Drive in BG. (By the way, for those of you who still think the President hasn't done anything in these last ten months, we're able to do this because of that awful old socialism, which is providing us with $8000 of tax credit to offset our investment. So put that in your pipe and smoke it; there's one of many things the President has done that directly affect the lives of ordinary, low-income, hard-working Americans. I promise I won't rant on politics again in this post unless I just happen to feel like it. :D )

We moved in in January of 2000---wait. That won't do. Let me set the scene a little. Mary and I had been dating for a little over a year. I still worked at motherfucking, god-awful Combined Communications. Mary worked at Box of Rocks. Our roommates were Nick Edwards and Little Mike. My cat Ford was 4 years old, and his buddy Panda, 3. Strider was not yet a gleam in an alley cat's eye. Gary Ransdell was already WKU president; hard to believe he's lasted this long. Bill Clinton was the President of the United States, gas cost $1.45/gal, and none of us for a minute believed that the spoiled son of a former one-term President had a snowball's chance in hell of gaining the White House. (That's history, not a rant. :p ) Over the last decade, three people have been President; ten roommates have lived here; Mary and I went from boyfriend and girlfriend to old marrieds and then parents; a child was conceived and has lived 99% of his life here; we've changed jobs, careers, and earned degrees; friends have come and gone.

I raise a glass of Alamos Cab (who knew ten years ago that we'd all be drinking and raving about wines from ARGENTINA of all places!) to Josephine Street. To Brenda Hale for telling me about her charming little postwar house that was open. To Jenny Forbes, who was almost our first roommate. To Little Mike, who was almost never here but who lived in the house the first few weeks while everyone else was still assing around moving our stuff in. To everyone who helped us paint and pull up the carpet and move in: Nick, Dave, Andrew, Katie, Clay, Stef, Dirk, Jeremy, Melissa, and anyone else I've forgotten. To the roommates: Little Mike, (Jan 2000-Summer 2000), Nick Edwards (Jan 2000-Summer 2002), Dave Sander (May 2000-Summer 2001), Bekki Roy (Summer 2001-Jan 2004), Clay Smith (Summer 2002), Chris Ladd (Summer 2002-Winter 2004, and Summer 2006-Fall 2007), Aaron Meier (Fall 2003-Fall 2004), Sophia Sterlin (Summer-Fall 2009) Bridgit Boggs (the unofficial Tenth Roomate, who stayed here longer over the last decade than many of the actual roommates!) and Ray Brockman (Winter 2007-Fall 2008, and Summer 2009-Present). To their significant others, who formed such a part of our crew: Big Mike Davis, Quinn, Kami Causey, Shelby Best, Michele Fishbein, the Okie, Stef Bruser, Meghan Nacke, and anyone else I forgot. To the Newton Street Crew and friends: Andrew Rose, Katie Rose, Jeremy Logsdon, Melissa Mathews, Josh and Amanda Rose, Matt Montag, Meghan Nacke, Angela Stewart, Sean Owens, and by extension Danny Fortier and his insane and loyal crew, too numerous to mention. To Dirk Fitzgerald (May) and Sara Lleras, Laurie Young and Catty Brownfield. To Ruby, the wild old woman who ran over the gas meter (who passed away at 96 last August.) To Jimbo, the sweet little tabby who lived in the backyard. To Fordy and Panda, who lived most of their lives here, and while they died at Greystone Pet Hospital, their spirits are here. To Avalon and Mordecai, Ladd's kitties who used to live here. To Chloe, Dave and Michele's rabbit. To Travy, who showed up at 5 AM with a case of High Life to Mary's first birthday party in the house, when we were all ready to pass out. (We kept it going till long after sunup, thanks very much.) To Strider, Noelle and Sadie (the current batch of Hairy Tonys). To Dorian, who has never yet known another home. To my Mom and Dad, who made our lives here so much easier. To Sue and Mike, who stayed here for weeks when Dorian was first born, making things bearable for two terrified new parents.

It's been wild. It'll never be replaced. But our time here is soon to be done, and a new home with new parties, old friends and a few new ones, new paint colors and new craziness, is about to open. For all of you who read this: we love you. We miss you. Come and see us again and bring a little of the spirit of Josephine Street with you to the new home.