We’d take Old Todds Road when we were trying to avoid the cops and pretend we still lived in the country. Getting farther away from Winchester and closer to that Fayette county line, the trees would reach and stoop toward one another. It was as though the closer we got to Lexington, even the trees wished to reflect upon a growing sense of community. It was as if the dead-stop curves and the overwhelming greenness were leading us to a different kind of urbanity, where politicians keep their promises and no one drops a needle at a playground. It was fitting that the last landmark on the way out of Clark County was an Angus farm with a gourmet restaurant. That
this little slice of rural utopia led to a B Dubs was only a happy coincidence.