New Year’s Eve in Kentucky???

Ah yes, back to lovely Kentucky for the New Year. I thought I’d had my fill of Kentucky back in October, but it looks like I get to go back for dessert. It seems that there are New Year parties in Prestonburg and they need entertainment. Another actor who was supposed to be doing the show had an emergency and I get to fill in on short notice. Yeah.

If you can’t make the Jenny Wiley State Park this year, check out Upstage Productions on the side bar and see when and where you might be able to catch a show. It’s interactive murder mystery theatre: a fun show and lots of booze, what could be better?



Filed under Entertainment, Theatre

11 responses to “New Year’s Eve in Kentucky???

  1. Hey, The Boy has in-laws just north of there, in Louisa!

    They have their family reunions at Jenny Wiley sometimes!

    His wife is actually related to Jenny Wiley, her fifth great Grand Niece.

    Jenny was born Jean Sellards, daughter of Hezekiah Sellards and Jane Brevard. Jenny was captured by Indians in 1789, but escaped in 1790. It’s a pretty cool story, if you get the chance to look into it.

    Anyways, Hezekiah and Jane were The Boy‘s wife’s sixth great grandparents.

    I’ll see if I can get him to call down there and send you some foot traffic.

  2. His relatives weren’t involved in the Hatfield / McCoy dust-up, were they? I know that was down around Pikeville, but not too far away. That’d be cool; I’ve never conversed with anyone who was the basis of a Looney Tune episode.

  3. Well, his wife’s relatives. But mostly they were related to her relatives by marriage.

    It’s funny because that war is still going on, contrary to popular belief.

    Turns out the McCoys and their kin all wound up being mostly coal mine owners, and the Hatfields and their kin wound up being mostly miners. (And owners and workers of other businesses, too, but mostly mines and miners.)

    That’s why those damned miners’ strikes are so vicious over there, although few of the people alive today realize it, even the ones involved.

    Because Daddy was a miner (or owner), Junior is a miner (or owner). And since Daddy hated the owners (or miners) so much, Junior does, too.

    Of course the names are mostly all mixed up now, from generations of marriage and stuff.

    Several years ago, when The Boy was still living out there, there was this one guy named Adkins who just walked into the local grocery store (Foodland, I think) and shot this other guy named Atkins. (It might have been vice-versa.)

    Nobody was really sure why he did it, since as far as anyone could tell, they had never even met. Turns out that one’s Daddy or Granddaddy had done something to the other’s years before, and the feud had been festering through the grapevine for years.

    The Boy‘s father-in-law told him all about it, and that incident was retaliation for another incident before that, which was a retaliation for something before that….

    All the way back to the Hatfields and McCoys.

    They’re still killing each other over that same feud, and they have no idea why.

    It all officially started around the end of the Civil War, when Harmon McCoy (who was a Union Soldier) was murdered on his return home, allegedly by Devil Anse Hatfield. (Nobody really knows for sure.)

    Folks down that way will tell you it started even earlier than that though, because they say that Devil Anse’s uncle Jim (a Confederate soldier) was the one who shot Harmon in the leg during the war, which shattered it and made it lame.

    According to those locals, Jim let Harmon live, and let him go after he shot him. After the war, they had planned to let bygones be bygones, it being war and nothing personal.

    But Devil Anse took things personally, and didn’t think that the McCoys were very grateful for Jim letting Harmon go, and thought Jim should have killed the damned Yankee anyway.

    So, they say, Devil Anse killed Harmon.

    The animosity just sort of simmered for years and years, and then one of the girls from one family went all Juliet and fell in love with a Romeo from the other (I don’t remember which was which), and it didn’t go any better for them than it did for Shakespeare’s pair of star-crossed lovers.

    Life imitates art.

    The two families just started looking for excuses to kill each other, and so it continues to this very day.

    Strange, but true.

  4. It really is an interesting story. I picked up some literature on the historic houses and festival when I was out there in October, but didn’t get a chance to go.

  5. Your festival link goes to Joe G’s profile. Any particular reason?

  6. Nope. Maybe his rock stupidness rubbed off on me. It’s fixed now.

    Though if there was aany living person I’m familiar with that belongs in the middle of that feud, it’s Joe G.

  7. Maybe you could shower in bleach or something to clean that off…

    Joe G. and “Christian” (or whichever name he’s using at the moment) from my blog should have a re-enactment.

    We’ll give them Nerf bullets, though, so they don’t hurt each other (or more importantly – anyone else).

    That’d be a riot to watch.

  8. Happy New Year, blipey!

    May you be the frequent recipient of Molly’s Wish in 2007!

  9. Thanks for the New Year’s wish, JB. I hope your 2007 started very pleasantly. I got the short end of the deal as far as New Year’s partying goes.

    It seems this show was not part of a ringing in the new year party. It was a family(ish) event that was to get over in time for people to get to their other parties. Nice in general…sucky for us.

    We get put up at the Jenny Wiley resort which is absolutely gorgeous. However, there is practically nobody here, not even an open bar or restaurant!

    I took some photos out on the deck for my personal drop of the ball and drank a cup of decaf.

    Oh well, show went well and talked to a friend of mine, so could be much worse.

  10. Aw, blipey.

    The Boy tried to send some surprise “company” your way for the evening, but it was such short notice.

    Most of the girls he knows from down there are married now, except for two.

    Of the two, one was busy taking the wheels off her new house, and the other was busy brushing her tooth.


    Sorry, we tried.

    We of course, were ringing in the New Year rather pleasantly. I hope you were thinking of us, we were thinking of you.

    And we were taking pictures at midnight, too, but I can’t post them on the web. I s’pose you can figure out why.

    It’s kind of hard to find much in the way of alcohol serving establishments around there, because a lot of those counties are “dry”.

    Can you imagine that in the twenty first century? Those people are sitting in church on Sunday morning listening to the preacher brag about how their Godly County is dry, but don’t buy that crap for a second.

    When The Boy tended bar in Huntington, WV to pay his way through college, he also managed the whole bar. That meant he was always talking to the beer distributer guys, and they’d yack about business and stuff all the time.

    He had two distributors. One delivered Anheuser Busch products for all of West Virginia, the other delivered Miller and all the wine and imports and fancy beers for the whole state.

    Both distributors said that far and away, their biggest customer was Carol’s Truck Stop, and that this little convenience store/gas station sold more beer and wine than any ten bars in the state, combined.

    Think about that. Now the thing about Carol’s was that it was located in Fort Gay, West Virginia, a little village with a population of like 500, maybe.


    It also happens to be at one end of a bridge across the Big Sandy River, which is the Kentucky state line, and Louisa, Lawrence Co., KY is on the other end. Lawrence County and all its surrounding counties are all “dry” (or at least they were at the time, I guess they still are).

    The West Virginia Department of Revenue (hearts) Eastern Kentucky preachers, I can tell you that!

    And for the icing on the Blipey’s Revenge Cake, lemme just tell you that some of the best ‘shine in the world is made in the back hollers of those same Eastern Kentucky Counties.

    Don’t ask me how I have personal knowledge of that, just take my word for it.


    So while the local governments may be mostly responsible for your lack of a bottle of champaign on New Year’s Eve, just chuckle and know that you got the last laugh.

    Kisses to you on this New Year’s Morning.

    (P.S. I think I mentioned a while back that Kate is a New Year’s baby, so stop by and wish her a happy birthday. I told her she has to wear her birthday suit all day, and she’s happily obliging. Just so y’know.)

  11. Well I was wearing a lampshade for a while, just for fun….

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