Bikes and Beer
To be clear: none of the local Bike to Work Day organizers advocate unsafe practices involving alcohol and bikes. But this morning’s festivities on Monument Circle, part of a national event, had a distinctively hoppy flavor.
Walking around the Circle, you may have noticed the faint etchings of names in the bricks. In the late 1970’s, Commission for Downtown began a revitalization project that included re-bricking Monument Circle and allowed citizens to have their names engraved there in return for a small donation. These are the stories of the individuals, families, and companies whose names can be found engraved along the most famous streets in the city.
It’s an American flag. It’s a horseshoe. It’s a … wait … is that a … a blue sunflower bending in the breeze? Some of the designs in the window-light displays of the Indianapolis Power and Light headquarters may take a while to decipher—ahh, it’s a capital P for Pacers!—but for locals, downtown visitors, and millions of people watching blimps-eye cutaways of the Circle during nationally televised sporting
A: The Hoosierist is amazed that the legislature, so busy concocting a constitutional ban on gay marriage and new ways to hound undocumented aliens—that is, when they got together at all—found time this year to consider an overhaul of the state’s pot laws. Thank Indiana state senator Karen Tallian (D-Portage) for the effort. Since state lawmakers are in a cost-cutting mood this year, Tallian floated the idea of reviewing Indiana’s weed laws, which are both strict and expensive to enforce. Among other things, you can get a year in jail and a $5,000 fine for possession of a measly 30 grams of grass. The Hoosierist is pretty sure he could scrounge up that much in the pockets of the Army surplus jacket he wore in college.
“As all of us change, this place stays the same. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to get in here. And one of the first times I bartended, my grandfather was sitting at the end of the bar watching everything I did. Which was intimidating. I just wish he could see me back there now.”
When Brainard first raised the idea of building a performing-arts center, the intent was to fill an immediate need: to give homeless arts organizations such as the Carmel Symphony Orchestra a place to play. It was a nice thought—quaint, really, considering what the city has now.
