Add Event My Events Log In

Upcoming Events

    We see you appreciate a good vintage. But there comes a time to try something new. Click here to head over to the redesigned Louisville.com. It's where you'll find all of our latest work. And plenty of the good ol' stuff, too, looking better than ever.

    LouLife

    Print this page

    In Louisville, we love our heroes big. Really big. Like plastered against the side of a building big.

    For years, residents and travelers alike have been treated to murals of hometown celebrities slapped against the side of many prominent buildings, featuring each local legend professing their ownership of our fair city. The list of honorees is impressive - Diane Sawyer, Colonel Sanders, and a whole gaggle of old looking dudes who look like they had their pictures taken at one of those old-timey saloon places in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

    Not only do these portraits bring energy and excitement to the city, but they also do a super job covering up those spooky-looking gang signs that get spray painted on everything that's not under 24-hour surveillance. (Seriously, what language is that? Some sort of Hebrew/Japanese hybrid?)

    But where do we go from here? Has the city exhausted all of its viable, photogenic options? According to one supposed government official, that answer is an outwardly confident, yet truly insecure sounding, "I don't think so."

    Wayne Larimore claims to be Metro Louisville's Director of Big Ass Signs. According to the somewhat shady looking Larimore, the position was created in 2001 by former mayor Jerry Abramson after he spent an entire Saturday afternoon standing in the back of a Spencer's Gifts staring at a totally awesome black light poster of a wizard riding a unicorn. "Once I convinced Jerry that black lights of that size and magnitude just weren't practical, the rest was simple."

    For more than 10 years, Larimore spent his days evaluating candidates for future murals, scouting possible locations, and performing constant maintenance on the world's largest copy machine. But then one day, this dream job turned into a nightmare.

    Short of exciting candidates, Larimore found himself left to choose between actor Ned Beatty and a guy named Fonrose "Skippy" Arrington III, who according to local authorities was the first man to ever put a Jolly Rancher in a bottle of Zima.

    "When you think of Beatty, only one thing comes to mind - and I refuse to be known for glorifying the man who ruined 'Stroker Ace'. And Arrington? If I wanted to look at a giant douche bag, I'd just hang out at 4th Street Live."

    After spending nearly 45 minutes in a state of panic, followed by a brief, yet fulfilling lunch at a nearby Wendy's, followed then by three hours of online checkers and an additional two hours on Craigslist posting personal ads under the pseudonym "dongbandit", Larimore came to the realization that he needed to get some work done.

    Pages

    Patrick Fawcett's picture

    About Patrick Fawcett

    When I was a boy, I met Darth Vader at Raceland Mall. I also got to hug a Jawa. I have spent everyday since then chasing that high.

    More from author:

    Share On:

    Most Read Stories