It's been a long time since I've hung out in a neighborhood bar. But there is still something alluring about them. I used to just pass within the shadow of a bar and I'd drift in and slouch onto a stool and ask for a "cold one"
Now when I walk by I can hear the dull crack of a cue ball and a one note twang from the juke box. Smell the drift of cigarette smoke and hear the muffled clap of two old timers playing "horses"against the countertop. The seedier the bar the better, the more grizzled the men and lacquered the women. Watered down drafts for a quarter and grit on the floor and a Clydesdale horse clopping around and around in a neon Bud sign. And just the faint hint of expectation in the air. It does make me pause and hold in the scene like a lungful of good smoke before I move on...
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9 years ago
3 comments:
the way you write.grabs me..you need to publish this blog!!! great
have you noticed how similar our last names are spelled?
They are similiar, huh? Hmmm. Where are you guys? I think you're on the road again, Utah?
That's a very nice painting, but then I WOULD think so, being as I am the artist.
I have to mention that the author of this blog violated copyright law by not even attempting to ask for permission to use it (which I would gladly grant, with the understanding that credit would be given the artist and a link to my site).
These actions are akin to me stealing her words from this blog and posting on my site, without credit.
So - the artist name is Carl B. Johnson (me) and the website is www.wuli.com.
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