I posted an item Thursday that reproduced a brief story from the July 6, 1826, edition of the Kentucky Whig about how Lexington celebrated the 50th anniversary of Independence Day. It mentioned two downtown establishments — Sanders’ Garden and Mr. Connetts — where Lexington residents partied that day.  I have no idea where they were or what they looked like.  After all, there’s not much left of Lexington from 182 years ago.

It’s worth noting, though, that 1826 was the year Morton’s Row was built.  It was the store of William “Lord” Morton, an early Lexington entrepreneur.  Since 1929, the building has been Joe Rosenberg’s jewelry store and pawn shop.  Any day now, it could be a pile of dust. Joe Rosenberg and Dudley Webb have permits to demolish the building to make way for CentrePointe, their $250 million luxury hotel, condo and retail development.

In an unsuccessful attempt to appease critics of the project, Webb proposed incorporating the pediment facade from the main Morton’s Row building into CentrePointe.  No word on whether that proposal still stands, now that a demolition permit has been issued.  Let’s hope the facade is preserved. Once our historical legacy is gone, it’s gone for good.

A demolition permit has been issued for Morton’s Row, built in 1826, to make way for the CentrePointe development. Since 1929, the buildilng has been owned by the Rosenberg family.  Photo/Tom Eblen

Lexingtonians hold this truth to be self-evident: There’s no better day to be downtown with family and friends than the Fourth of July.

From the starting gun of the Bluegrass 10,000 until the last flicker of fireworks over Rupp Arena, it’s our own special celebration of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It must be something in the community DNA. After all, Lexington was founded in June 1775, a year before American independence was formally declared. But those patriotic pioneers named their new town for Lexington, Mass., because they had just gotten word of the battle there that began the revolution against Britain.

This Independence Day began with light rain falling on the 3,632 registered entrants in the 32nd annual Bluegrass 10,000 as they lined up along Main Street waiting for the race to start. It was wet, but at least it was cool.

Some came to test their athleticism; others to socialize. Still others just seemed to enjoy an excuse to play in the rain. It was an eclectic bunch: doctors, lawyers, teachers, plumbers, politicians and salesmen. I also saw a Navy captain and a dance choreographer.

Jacob Korir, the Eastern Kentucky University track star and potential Olympian, won the race for the second-straight year.

But Korir probably didn’t have as much fun as Lin West, who crossed the finish line more than an hour later, hand-in-hand with his 5 ½ -year-old daughter, Callie.

”Last year, she rode in a stroller,“ West said. ”But this year, we finished.“

As the race and showers ended, people poured onto Vine Street. There they found all manner of food, from pulled pork to Greek spinach pie, and booths advocating causes and selling arts and crafts. On one corner, six members of the Bluegrass Dulcimer Club strummed away, while across the street the Dream Interpretation tent did a brisk business.

Cloudy skies kept temperatures in the mid-70s. A little less humidity and it would have been perfect.

The afternoon parade down Vine and Main streets was diversity in motion — and more than a little corny.

The governor and mayor rode in horse-drawn carriages; other elected officials and office-seekers rode in automobiles. Every club and activist group seemed to be represented, from the Sierra Club to Friends of Coal. Companies touted their wares and churches spread the Gospel. Ramsey’s Diner had my favorite gimmick: The workers on its float handed out ears of sweet corn.

As the parade broke up, people began moving to Rupp Arena’s Cox Street lot for Red, White and Boom, where Central Kentucky’s own John Michael Montgomery was to perform before a fireworks spectacular to put an exclamation point on the day.

A few blocks from all the hubbub, on Hampton Court, Joe Childers and Denise Smith had 100 or so friends over for their annual party.

”We moved into this house on July 3, 1996, and had our first party the next day,“ said Childers, a lawyer. ”A few friends brought bottles of Champagne, so we thought that would be a good thing to do every year.“

The highlight of the party is always a dramatic reading of the Declaration of Independence, which is reprinted on the Herald-Leader’s editorial page each July 4.

Noted Lexington author Ed McClanahan did the honors this year, carrying his folded newspaper to the first landing of the staircase in the old house’s expansive foyer. Everyone gathered around as Childers shushed noisy children upstairs.

”When in the course of human events …“ McClanahan began.

As he read aloud the Founding Fathers’ grievances against King George III and their determination to live and govern themselves as free men, all of the adults in the house stood quietly, Champagne glasses in hand. It was a time to reflect on that 232-year-old document that in many ways make us who we are.

”I’m really glad I was asked to read it,“ McClanahan said afterward. ”It made me really listen to the words. I didn’t know I liked it so much.“

Across Lexington, everyone said, ”Amen,“ whether they realized it or not.

Writer Ed McClanahan reads the Declaration of Independence, an annual tradition at the July 4th party given by Hampton Court residents Joe Childers and Denise Smith.   Photo/Tom Eblen

I’ll be at the patriotic concert tonight at Transylvania University and then back downtown bright and early tomorrow for other festivities celebrating America’s 232nd Independence Day. I hope to see you there.

There isn’t a better day to be in Lexington than the Fourth of July, from the starting gun of the Bluegrass 10,000 race to the last flicker of fireworks over Rupp Arena. Apparently, it has been that way for a long time.

I have a small collection of newspapers published in Lexington before the Civil War. Several years ago, when I bought a copy of the July 6, 1826, edition of the Kentucky Whig, I found this small but vivid account of Lexington’s celebration of the 50th Independence Day, two days earlier.

Those wet but happy Lexingtonians had no way of knowing it then, but elsewhere in America that day, two of the founding fathers died within hours of each other. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, the second and third presidents, had over the years gone from being partners in liberty to bitter political enemies to frequent correspondents and grudging admirers of each other. On his death bed, Adams is supposed to have said, “Thomas Jefferson survives.”

]]> http://tomeblen.wordpress.com/2008/07/03/how-we-celebrated-the-50th-independence-day/feed/ Tom http://tomeblen.wordpress.com/2008/07/03/council-arrived-late-to-the-centrepointe-ball/ http://tomeblen.wordpress.com/2008/07/03/council-arrived-late-to-the-centrepointe-ball/#comments Thu, 03 Jul 2008 11:12:22 +0000 Tom Eblen http://tomeblen.wordpress.com/?p=347

We’ll never be the belle of the ball if everyone knows we’re easy.

That’s how I ended my first column about CentrePointe, soon after Dudley Webb unveiled plans for his $250 million luxury hotel, condo and retail complex.

I was likening Lexington to a debutante who fancies herself as someone special, yet rushes into the arms of any real estate developer with a hot proposition.

So here we are, nearly four months later. Where does the belle find herself?

She’s considering a shotgun marriage to the CentrePointe developer. Why? Because it could be an easy way to get some downtown goodies. Or maybe not.

When Webb announced CentrePointe in early March after two years of behind-the-scenes work, he said the financial plan included as much as $70 million in tax increment financing to pay for related “public” improvements. Those were described as such things as a parking garage under Phoenix Park and public art.

Kentucky’s tax increment financing program — known as TIF — is a great tool that allows a city and the developer of a “signature” project to work together to rehabilitate a blighted urban area. With TIF, some of the future taxes generated by the private project are used to pay for “public” improvements near the development.

Now, Webb says he doesn’t want any more public meddling in CentrePointe and he has enough private financing to build without TIF. But no TIF, no public improvements.

Webb’s attorney, Darby Turner, said the developer would only apply for TIF financing if the Urban County Council asks him to. The council will vote Thursday on whether to do that.

Council members were told for the first time Tuesday that representatives of Webb and Mayor Jim Newberry have discussed trying to use TIF money for a long list of downtown projects, including a much-needed renovation of the old courthouse. Also, Turner said that instead of $70 million, only $35 million or $40 million might really be available for public improvements.

So how would this all work? How much money could really be available to the city and what could it buy? Nobody seems to know.

In fact, Tuesday’s meeting was the first time council members had really ever discussed CentrePointe TIF. Several council members had some very basic questions about TIF, and the only knowledgeable person there to advise them was Webb’s consultant, John Farris.

Council members are being asked to make a quick decision with little information. Some of them are angry about it, and who can blame them?

“What this motion asks us to do is … ask if we could tag along with the CentrePointe project and maybe get some public amenities out of a deal that’s already done,” Councilman Tom Blues said. “What we see here is a failure of communication, of cooperation, of public involvement, of openness, and I’m disturbed that it has come to this, because it really indicates a significant civic failure.”

Councilman Don Blevins said more study is needed to see how CentrePointe fits with potential city redevelopment projects a couple of blocks down Main Street. Blevins noted that decisions the council is about to make could shape Lexington for a century or more and shouldn’t be rushed.

And he added: “It feels a little strange hitching our TIF wagon to a project some of us don’t like. My fear is that a large four-star hotel with huge condominums on top of it is going to fail. I hope I’m wrong. I hope they’re wildly successful and the downtown is vibrant and we sell all those condos and the hotel is full from here to eternity. But what if I’m right? What we’d have is essentially a vertical Lexington Mall right in the heart of downtown.”

Vice Mayor Jim Gray also questioned CentrePointe’s economic viability. And he wondered whether a CentrePointe TIF would even be legal because developers say it’s not essential to build their project.

Gray has been among the most outspoken critics of CentrePointe because of Webb’s refusal to allow public input on the project’s design — and Webb’s insistence on demolishing the block’s historic buildings rather than trying to incorporate some elements of them into the new building.

“I’ve learned over time that this business of building and developing is a whole lot more about process than about project,” said Gray, who is president of a large construction company.

On Tuesday, Gray read to his fellow council members from a “best practices” guide to Kentucky TIF projects. It recommended thorough study, public participation and community buy-in — none of which has happened with CentrePointe.

It might be too late for anyone but Dudley Webb to influence what happens on the CentrePointe block.

But the future of downtown shouldn’t rise or fall on one project, no matter now big it is. Council members should slow down, think things through and look at all of the options.

Two other TIF projects have been proposed for Lexington — an arena to replace Rupp and a large downtown entertainment district along Manchester Street. Given the redevelopment opportunities downtown, there could be the potential for several more big projects.

The best course of action might be to tell Webb to go ahead and build CentrePointe on his own.

City officials could then do what they should have done long ago: Engage the public in a discussion about what downtown Lexington needs and what it might get from a TIF partnership. Then the city could seek out a developer who is interested in a true partnership.

Blevins said it all: The decisions we are about to make will shape Lexington for a century or more and shouldn’t be rushed.

An intentional courtship would make a lot more sense than a shotgun marriage.

Dudley Webb now says he can build his CentrePointe tower without public money.

Maybe he should.

Originally, Webb wanted as much as $70 million in tax increment financing ­— known as TIF — to pay for ”public“ improvements related to the $250 million project. Those could include additional underground parking, a giant outside video screen and some public art.

Last week, after during a hearing in which a city panel gave Webb permission to tear down all of the old buildings on the block, he his attorney surprised everyone by saying he could do the project without TIF financing.

But if he did that, of course, the public amenities would be “scaled back.”

You get the idea.

“The community and the Urban County Council need to tell us, do they want us to go ahead with the TIF application?” Webb said.

The Urban County Council and a state board must approve any TIF financing for CentrePointe. The council could begin discussing it Tuesday.

Maybe council members should call Webb’s bluff and say, “Fine. Go ahead.”

CentrePointe has always seemed to be questionable as a TIF project.

The state TIF program allows a portion of future taxes generated by a new development to go toward paying for public improvements needed to make the development possible.

The idea is to help build “signature” projects that will spur economic activity around them.

Others have proposed TIF projects to replace Rupp Arena and create an entertainment district along Manchester Street. It’s easy to see how those projects could accomplish the goal.

CentrePointe, on the other hand, would house a luxury hotel, luxury condos, stores and restaurants.

When Webb spoke to the Bluegrass Hospitality Association recently, hoteliers expressed skepticism about the market for a new luxury hotel. Meanwhile, downtown is awash in unsold condos and vacant retail space.

Would CentrePointe create new economic activity downtown, or just compete for what’s already there?

Not to mention that Webb is trying to build CentrePointe during the worst construction and financing market in years. Aside from vague references to “international” money, Webb hasn’t disclosed his financing.

All of those factors should give local and state officials pause about putting public money into CentrePointe.

Plus, there’s this: Kentucky law requires officials to certify that a TIF project couldn’t be built without public assistance. Webb’s comments last week seem to undermine that idea.

So what if there is no TIF financing? The developer should still be required to provide adequate on-site parking and streetscape improvements.

Webb has resisted meaningful public participation into what would be one of the biggest, most high-profile developments in Lexington’s history.

When preservationists heard rumors of his plans two years ago and expressed concerns about some of the historic structures on the block, Webb listened politely — and ignored them. With help from some city officials, he kept his plans secret from the public until March, when they were unveiled as a done deal. While Webb has made some design improvements to respond to critics, they have been minor.

Given Webb’s lack of interest in public participation, it may not be a good idea to put public money at risk on CentrePointe.

If Webb does apply for TIF financing, the council should ask a lot of questions, and insist on some safeguards.

The first safeguard would be to prohibit demolition of the buildings now on the block, some of which date to 1826, until the TIF application is approved and other financing is secured and documented.

Remember the World Hole Center?

When the Phoenix Hotel block across Limestone Street from the CentrePointe block was cleared in 1981, future Gov. Wallace Wilkinson was promising to build a 50-story office tower he called the World Coal Center.

It never happened.

Instead, Lexington was left for several years with a big hole, dubbed the World Hole Center. Eventually, the public library, Park Plaza apartments and Phoenix Park were built to fill the void.

Here’s the best thing that could have happened with CentrePointe: Webb could have incorporated a few of the existing structures, or their facades, into a contemporary development that would be uniquely Lexington.

But here’s the worst that could happen: Webb could clear the block, his development plan could collapse and we could be left with another hole in the middle of town — and no historic fabric for a more creative developer to work with in the future.

I’m back after a week’s vacation. Each year, several friends and I go to Bike Virginia, a five-day bicycle tour through a different part of Virginia.

This year, about 1,800 of us were riding around Bristol and Abingdon, in far southwest Virginia, with a swing into Kingsport, Tenn. The scenery and weather were spectacular, and the company was even better. I rode a little more than 350 miles, including 100 miles one day. Bike Virginia is both physically challenging and mentally refreshing. It’s hard to think about everyday worries when you’re focused on pedaling up the next big hill. And southwest Virginia has a lot of big hills…

So, what happened in Kentucky while I was gone? A lot, apparently. Over the next few days, I’ll be catching up on CentrePointe and other issues and writing about what comes next.

By the way, Commerce Lexington has posted videos of the main presentations made during the Leadership Visit to Austin, Texas, in early June. While the other 274 Kentuckians on the trip were listening, Mark Turner, the chamber’s senior VP for communications, was capturing the speakers on video. Lucky for you; there are a lot of good ideas on those videos. Click here to watch them.

Dudley Webb is hardly the first ambitious businessman to want to leave his mark on the block in the center of downtown Lexington.

A five-member city board will decide this week whether Webb should be able to erase the marks of all those who came before him.

The Courthouse Area Design Review Board meets at 2 p.m. Wednesday in the Urban County Council chambers to hear Webb’s request to demolish the 14 buildings on the block bounded by Main, Upper, Vine and Limestone streets to build his proposed 35-story CentrePointe tower. The $250 million development would house a luxury hotel, high-priced condominiums, stores and restaurants.

The board must approve demolition of the buildings that face Main Street, which are included in the courthouse area historic overlay zone. The board also must approve the design of new buildings so they fit the character of the neighborhood.

Vice Mayor Jim Gray has spoken for a broad coalition of preservationists, architects and downtown activists who want Webb to change his CentrePointe design to be more in scale with surrounding buildings and to preserve some of the block’s existing structures — or at least their facades.

Webb argues that it isn’t economical to keep the old buildings, many of which suffered “modernization” in the late 1940s and more recent neglect by their owners. Webb says none of the buildings, which date as far back as 1826, are truly historic or worth preserving.

The Blue Grass Trust, the citizens group Preserve Lexington and others disagree, noting that these are some of the city’s oldest surviving commercial buildings.

Much of the discussion Wednesday is likely to center on the neo-classical building on Main Street that houses The Dame, a popular music hall that closes Sunday night and is looking for a new home.

Built in 1901, the building was a late work of noted Lexington architect Herman L. Rowe, who also designed the Opera House on Broadway and the Carnegie Center — the old Lexington Public Library — at Gratz Park.

A 1979 survey of the block by architectural historian Walter Langsam said the building, which originally housed a candy factory and ice cream parlor, is notable for its “Chicago School” influence, which was then emerging from the work of such architects as Frank Lloyd Wright. The building later housed the offices of Lexington’s utilities and trolley line, a florist shop and clothing stores.

But the buildings that most concern preservationists lie outside the courthouse overlay zone, and thus beyond the board’s reach.

Most significant is “Morton’s Row” — three structures built in 1826 along South Upper Street and anchored by what is now Joe Rosenberg’s jewelry store and pawn shop. The main building is recognizable by its pediment roof with a half-circle window. It is an early example of the Greek Revival style that became popular in 1830s Lexington.

“Although the interiors have been remodeled, it remains one of the most important early buildings in downtown Lexington, both historically and architecturally,” Langsam wrote in 1979 for the Kentucky Heritage Council survey.

Morton’s Row housed a store and other businesses started by William Morton, an Englishman known as “Lord” Morton because of his aristocratic bearing. He started as a Main Street shopkeeper in 1787 and became one of Lexington’s richest and most colorful characters.

Morton built himself one of Lexington’s finest homes, the 1810 Federal-style mansion on North Limestone that is now the centerpiece of Duncan Park. (After Morton’s death, it became the home of Cassius Clay, the fiery abolitionist and namesake of Muhammad Ali.)

Morton helped start Lexington’s first bank and first Episcopal church. He was among those who gave the land where Christ Church now stands. Upon his death in 1836, he left $10,000 for Lexington’s first public school, which was built in 1849 and named for him. He is best known today as the namesake of Morton Middle School.

Morton’s Row has housed groceries, shops and restaurants through the years. The Rosenberg family bought the main building in 1929 and the rest of Morton’s Row in the early 1950s, according to Langsam’s survey.

On the opposite corner of Vine Street at Limestone is a three-story, neo-classical structure with distinctive oriel windows, built in the late 1880s. Older Lexington residents will remember it as Levas’ restaurant, but it was originally Robinson’s European Hotel Dining Room and Eugene Buchignani’s meat market.

By the turn of the century, the building housed Mooney & Klair’s Saloon, which drew a steady clientele from the nearby railroad depot. It was owned by William F. Klair, a colorful character who rose from General Assembly page boy to state representative, railroad commissioner, businessman and Democratic wheeler-dealer.

When Prohibition shuttered Lexington’s saloons, the building became a grocery until the Levas family opened a restaurant there in the 1920s.

A plain but notable building with little chance for survival is the late 1880s shop of R.H. Gray, an African-American tinsmith and inventor who held several patents. The deep, narrow industrial structure, which faces Vine Street in the middle of the block, later housed saloons, a dance hall and several restaurants.

Preservationists would like to see some of this historic fabric woven into a unique piece of contemporary architecture that would help bring people and activity back to the center of Lexington. They want a development that will blend in with the surrounding historic structures — a place people will want to go because it meets modern needs while reflecting Lexington’s rich cultural heritage.

A century from now, Dudley Webb’s mark on Lexington will be considerable. But think how much greater that mark — and Lexington — would be if Webb also could find a way to acknowledge the likes of “Lord” Morton, Herman Rowe, William Klair — and maybe even R.H. Gray.

It’s human nature to focus more on what’s going wrong than what’s going right.

I noticed that a lot when I lived in Atlanta. Except for its traffic and smog, Atlanta is the envy of most Southern cities. But get a group of Atlantans together, and all they do is complain.

Commerce Lexington recently took 275 local leaders to Austin, Texas, to learn about that city’s successes in economic development and improving the quality of life.

Chambers of commerce from other cities visit Lexington, too, and you might be surprised by their reactions.

“These groups come here and they just think we walk on water,” said Robert Quick, Commerce Lexington’s president. “The things they say about us are almost the opposite of how we often see ourselves.”

Since Quick moved to Lexington seven years ago from Evansville, Ind., three chambers have organized trips to Lexington: Gainesville, Fla., in 2001, Springfield, Mo., in 2003 and Evansville in 2006.

The visitors did things you might expect: Some went to Keeneland and Calumet Farm to learn about the horse industry. They heard about New Century Lexington’s livability study and how Blue Grass Airport has improved relations with its neighbors. The folks from Evansville visited Applebee’s Park because someday they hope to replace old Bosse Field, home of the Evansville Otters.

The visitors wanted to know how Lexington managed town-gown relations and leveraged university research for economic development. They wanted to talk about regional planning, and to see how our local governments work together — or don’t.

“All three groups came here before our downtown development was in full gear,” Quick said. “Still, they all thought we had a dynamic downtown.”

In addition to chamber groups, officials from elsewhere often contact UK and Lexington Urban County Government looking for ideas. According to people who get those calls, these are some of the things outsiders think we’ve done right:

• Merged government. In 1974, Lexington and Fayette County became the first place in Kentucky and one of the first in the nation to merge local governments. It saved money, made services more efficient and sidestepped the annexation fights and turf battles that plague cities and counties across America. The decision to make Lexington’s 15-member Urban County Council non-partisan also is seen as a plus.

• The Urban Service Area. Lexington was one of the first cities in America to try to control sprawl, protect rural land and control infrastructure costs by limiting growth. Without those limits, Fayette County would have more subdivisions, fewer farms and a lot less of its famous natural beauty. A related accomplishment that attracts national attention is our purchase-of-development-rights program, which lets farmers get tax breaks by making their land off-limits for future development.

Sure, people in Lexington still fight over controlling growth and keeping housing affordable, but other cities seem to think we manage the balance better than most.

• Lexington is fortunate to be located along interstate highways that run both east-west and north-south. And it is even more fortunate that, when those highways were built, they were routed around the city rather than through the middle of it. It was a controversial decision — and it still is among people who gripe about traffic.

Still, downtown Lexington has an enormous advantage over most cities trying to rebuild their urban core. There are no noisy highways dividing neighborhoods, no ugly off-ramps, and little industrial blight needing redevelopment.

It also helped that railroad tracks were taken out of downtown in the 1960s, although we’re now wishing we still had some of the old streetcar lines that were removed decades earlier.

• Although many grand old buildings were torn down in the last half of the 20th century, many others were preserved and reused, giving Lexington more historic fabric than most cities can claim. Unique, quality architecture is something that gives a city identity, making it a place where people want to live.

• Keeneland and the horse industry give Lexington a “brand” that is unique and authentic.

• Lexington has a major research university, an excellent liberal-arts college and a top-notch community and technical college, all near downtown. Add to that a good public school system, and we have an educational infrastructure most places would envy.

The secret to success lies in appreciating your advantages and enjoying your accomplishments without becoming self-satisfied, as people in Lexington can sometimes be. After all, if you think things are good enough, you’re unlikely to work very hard to make them better.

As a chamber of commerce executive, Quick is paid to promote Lexington. Still, he thinks many Lexingtonians have too little appreciation for the city’s quality of life, even as they recognize the need to improve some things.

Quick has noticed many changes in Lexington in the short time he has been here, and most of them have been for the better. Downtown is being revived, and fresh faces are bringing more diversity to decision-making, and local leaders are working better together and seem to share more of a common vision for the city’s future.

“It seems like in the last seven years we’ve gotten over the pettiness,” he said. “We still have our differences, but it’s a different conversation. Things could be better, but we have a lot more going for us than against us.”

Google, I wish you had warned me you were coming.

I would have cut up that brush pile and stuffed it in the Lenny — as my wife probably told me to do — instead of leaving it at the curb for your roving camera to find.

Now, a color photo of my house and brush pile is there for all the world to see on Google Maps’ Street View.

Lexington and 36 other cities were added earlier this month to Street View, a year-old service that allows Internet users to type in an address or click on a map and get a panoramic view as if they were standing in the street.

It’s a big advancement from online satellite images, where you can zoom in and perhaps make out the shape of your driveway. With Street View, you can count the panes on the windows.

For Realtors, it’s a dream come true. For the rest of us, it’s fascinating technology — and more than a little creepy.

So how did they do this?

Google sent cars out on public streets equipped with special digital video cameras. The cameras filmed everything around them, including the lady walking her dog outside my neighbor’s house and the truck filled with pallets driving past City Hall. The images look as if they were taken last summer.

The video was reduced to stop-action images, embedded with global-positioning coordinates, matched with street addresses and posted online.

To find your house, go to Google, click “Maps” and type in your address. If Google’s video car went down your street, you’ll be shown a picture of your house. (Or, perhaps, a neighbor’s house. Addresses are approximate.) You can see where the video car went, because the maps shows those streets in blue.

Once you have an image on your screen, you can move up and down the street by clicking on computer-generated arrows. You also can zoom in and out, and spin the view around. Way cool.

Of course, not everyone is happy about it.

Communities in other states with private streets have banned Google’s video car. Others have asked Google to remove images of their homes, and the company has generally agreed. The Pentagon has banned images of military bases.

Despite technology that blurs the faces of most people caught in the Google lens, the European Union is concerned that future filming there might violate some countries’ privacy laws.

Taking pictures on a public street isn’t illegal in this country. Already, people with too much time on their hands have found Street View images more embarrassing than a front-yard brush pile. There’s a burning car, a man walking out of a strip club, a boy falling off his bike and a man urinating in an alley. None of those images seem to be from Lexington — yet.

I spent a couple of hours looking at Lexington through the eyes of Google.

The first thing I noticed was that some big streets were missed, while the camera car made a few odd detours — such as Von Alley, between 5th Street and Fayette Park, and the occasional dead-end rural road. The camera car went down every lane in Lexington Cemetery where, predictably, there was little activity. You can check your family plot to make sure.

I didn’t see anyone coming out of a strip club or doing anything risque. But, then, Lexington isn’t a very risque place in the middle of a summer day.

When you were little, your Sunday school teacher told you to behave as if someone were always watching. George Orwell warned us long ago about Big Brother.

But who would have thought Big Brother would have a goofy name like Google?

The Excelsior Cornet Band from New York. Photos/Tom Eblen

Click here or on the photo above to see a slide show with sound.

DANVILLE - In high school, I was a band geek.

Since then, I’ve mostly been a newspaper and bicycle geek.

But once you’re in a high school band, especially a marching band, you never seem to get it out of your system.

Just ask the dozens of musicians in the 18 bands performing at the Great American Brass Band Festival this weekend. Not to mention the several thousand people here to listen to them.

“For me, the great thing about this festival is seeing all the younger players coming out, having a great time and producing a great sound,” said Jim Drake of Frankfort, who started playing trombone in fifth grade, switched to tuba in ninth grade and is still playing in two brass bands.

Danville always seems to look like a Norman Rockwell painting, but never more so than each June when the brass bands come to town. People from all over the country set up lawn chairs around one of three stages and listen to bands like the ones most American small towns had a century ago.

“I’ve heard this is our 10th year, but I’ve lost count,” said Dan Shields, who plays tenor sax in the Circle City Sidewalk Stompers Clown Band of Indianapolis.

“All of the people are here for the music,” he said. “It’s a language that people should learn and not forget, even if they don’t keep playing. It makes them a more educated listener.”

In addition to free public performances, the festival included a Chautauqua Tea on Thursday, a Brass History Conference on Friday and a big parade down Main Street on Saturday.

You can still catch some of the action Sunday, when the main stage at Centre College will have performances from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. The annual balloon race, postponed Friday because of bad weather, has been rescheduled for 7:30 p.m. Sunday at Stuart Powell Field outside Junction City.

The bands range from Ameriikan Poijat, a Midwestern band that plays Finnish-style, to the Walnut Street Ragtime Ramblers, a four-man combo from Lexington led by Dick Domek, a University of Kentucky music theory professor who plays a mean piano.

There are several military bands - the Hellcats from West Point, the U.S. Army Brass Quintet and the U.S. Air Force Reserve Band. Plus crowd favorites from an earlier era of military bands: the Excelsior Cornet Band from Syracuse, N.Y., and Saxton’s Cornet Band from Kentucky, which use antique instruments to recreate Civil War-era music.

In honor of the Abraham Lincoln bicentennial, the history conference this year focused on music from his time. It included a re-enactment by the Olde Towne Brass of Huntsville, Ala., of a concert Lincoln and his Lexington-born wife, Mary Todd, attended. Saxton and Excelsior both played a popular tune that they noted, ironically, was one of Lincoln’s favorites: Dixie.

As a bicycle geek, I was fascinated by the 18 riders from the Ohio Wheelmen, who led the parade on big-wheel “bone shakers” and other two-wheeled relics.

“This is a unique parade,” said Del Nichols of Findlay, Ohio, the group’s leader. “There’s a higher class of people who come here because of the music.”

Back when I was a band geek at Lexington’s Lafayette High School in the mid-1970s, there were two musicians we all looked up to: Trumpeter Vincent DiMartino, who was then at UK and now teaches at Centre, and euphonium virtuoso Earle Louder, then a professor at Morehead State. They each performed solos in concert with us, and we were awed by how they could make their instruments come alive.

Now, DiMartino and Louder moonlight as the directors of the festival’s host band, the Advocate Brass Band of Danville, which is sponsored by the local newspaper. The band played Saturday evening at the festival’s Great American Picnic, and will perform at 3 p.m. Sunday.

If that wasn’t enough to make me love the Advocate Brass Band, there was this: Former director George Foreman spent years having the band explore the great heritage of newspaper music. Yes, newspaper music.

The most famous example is John Philip Sousa’s Washington Post March, which was commissioned in 1889 for the U.S. Marine Band to play at an awards ceremony for the newspaper’s student essay contest. The march became one of Sousa’s most popular, and started a trend.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, newspapers across America commissioned marches. It was like the 19th century version of a TV marketing jingle. Foreman documented more than 300 newspaper marches, and under his direction the band recorded four CDs of them.

There’s even a Lexington Herald March, written in 1936 by Robert B. Griffith, a UK student who went on to direct the University of Louisville marching band. Click the arrow below to hear a short clip of the Lexington Herald March. Click here to find out how to buy the Advocate Brass Band’s CDs.

If you have time Sunday, drive over to Danville. It just might make a band geek out of you, even if you weren’t one in high school.

Photos, top to bottom: Mick Gould of the Ohio Wheelmen leads out the parade Saturday. Members of the Excelsior Cornet Band from Syracuse, N.Y., play on a wagon in the parade. Dick Domek of Lexington plays with the Walnut Street Ragtime Ramblers. Natalie Fieberg, 3, of Danville, watches Dan Shields of the Circle City Sidewalk Stompers Clown Band of Indianapolis run by during the parade. Photos/Tom Eblen