For all the things Kentucky does well – bourbon, bluegrass, fried chicken – parking is not one of them. Maybe it is because of the high number of grotesquely large trucks. It could be that people parking in the local Wal Mart and gas station parking lots are too busy spitting coffee-colored liquid into an empty soda body. Or maybe the answer is simpler, drivers education is sub par. I don’t know and I’m not here to make a guess. What I do know is that people’s inability to park directly affects me. Because everyone drives everywhere here, parking spots are a high-valued commodity. Drivers become scavengers, pouncing on empty spots with unbridled enthusiasm. In the course of parking their giant 4×4 trucks, they take up one and a third spaces. Of course they might as well take up both spaces. Just let everyone know they are a prick instead of trying to keep up the illusion of civility. This causes someone else to part way in the next space, and it becomes a vicious cycle. One I unwillingly propagate. Looks like this culture is starting to get is corn-liquor-stained fingers a hold of me.