My friend John H. White always talks about the the need to recharge your batteries, to build your photographic armor, to bask in some PJ love. (video here) These are all people who have a common goal, to document, to tell stories with their cameras, to be awesome visual servants. Everyday in newsrooms it gets heavy, everyday my phone goes nuts with car crashes, shootings, fires, stabbings. You gotta find the small slice that lifts your soul and makes you want to be better. To tell better stories, to effect more change. I love my geeks. I miss them already. But it’s nice to be home and working.

We took my 2-year-old nephew, Lucas, and almost 11-month-old niece, Claire to their first game at the new Tiger Stadium. I have so many memories in the old Tiger Stadium at Michigan and Trumbull. My dad would take us there and I’d cheer on Kirk Gibson. My little brother was a Lou Whitaker fan. My Aunt Joni loved Matt Nokes. I remember those long creaky walkways in the upper deck. Standing along the outfield fence during batting practice. No one from Detroit can ever forget the image of Gibson after hitting the home run off Gossage to win the World Series in ’84.

Even though the Tigers lost it was nice to sit in those stands and make memories for the next generation of disappointed Tiger fans.




Then in typical Detroit fashion we go back to a car parked in an empty lot behind some abandoned building.

This was also the first trip up north for me since my Grandmother, Joyce Paulsen, was buried a few hundred yards north of the bakery in 2006. You can see the Paulsen headstone from the road and it’s a quiet little cemetery and she’s buried next to my grandfather, who I never met, but was lucky enough to get his hair. Which was quite a gift. Since I forgot to pack my guitar we listened to some Carl Perkins songs on the radio, and got some quiet time before the haul back to Chicago. Grandma would have wanted me to make sure my wife and cats were ok.

Heaven Hill is a stones throw from downtown Bardstown, and makes my favorite economically priced bourbon, Evan Williams. The “Water of Life” is distilled in Louisville and trucked down to be stored in rick houses on their massive property. The Bourbon Heritage Center offered a really fine tasting of Elija Craig 12 year, and Evan Williams Single Barrel. I liken it to going to the baseball hall of fame. There’s no baseball being played, but you get a taste of the game and it’s rich, 51% corn history.

We hit up Woodford Reserve, a brand of premium small batch bourbon whiskey made in the Labrot & Graham’s Old Oscar Pepper Distillery.