small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: I think we broke her

Monday, June 26

I think we broke her

Like the well worn saying goes, “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”? Well I ain’t saying shit but Saturday night a bunch of the old crowd gathered at the Hurricane for the last big blow out before the new owners take over. Because after Saturday night there would be no more local rock, no more familiar faces, everything would change. On that last night we were entertained by bands, belly dancers, jugglers, fire breathers on the sidewalk and of course by each other. Booze was spilt along with a little blood and many tears. The leaving was loud, messy and joyous at the same time. But like I said, I ain’t saying shit.

The first picture greeted me this morning as I drove past the Hurricane; I can only guess someone did it Sunday during the night. The second is a result of some customers grabbing my barstool and paying homage to yours truly.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Why are the innocent left behind? Why the sacrifice? Why the
change? There aren't any promises. Nothing's certain.
Some get closed. Some get saved to be opened as a new place. the hurricane won't ever know the hardship and grief for those of us
left behind. We commit this place to the void with a sad heart. Rest in peace Hurricane.

9:34 AM  
Blogger Sapphire said...

Nevermore!...R.I.P. Hurricane. Now where do we begin the new traditions and fun of getting together for a few drinks and luaghs...Evermore.

10:00 AM  
Blogger Ole Blue The Heretic said...

It is sads to see a place that one spent time in go away, either by an ownership change or demolition.

Often I see empty buildings and wonder ed about the lives spent inside, were they happy or sad.

At least you have momories to keep it alive.

12:27 PM  
Blogger ajw308 said...

I long for a dive of a bar that's nothing more that a distant memory.

Cold beers and good friends. Where'd they go?

The friends are scattered across the nation.

Maybe it has more to do with the time, but man, the memories are tied to a dark shady building.

I think the word is "melancholy"

5:07 PM  

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