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Barstool Pupilage

I have known many a bar, and the best of them all pour their liquor down the same old road; sometimes cobbled sometime paved sometimes not a road at all; promontory sands can lead the way or the quayside timbers of harbors and bays.

Same old friends on barstool watch, in each bar called by a different name. Same good lies on leader lines; same old jokes with an accent change. Each of us cut from the same sail cloth.

A place where laughter and the occasional tear always seem a damn sight more sincere; where the music’s never louder then the voice of a friend until Saturday night when the band comes in.

It’s a church that serves up more then sermons with wine and if you see the Burning Bush, then you have had way too much.

A comforting encouraging place to rack your hat and hang your coat when a cold Yankee wind begins blowing your way or it is just too hot and ninety in the shade.

Where a man lends his ear as well as his voice and it’s not unusual to see the hat pass
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Sidi Mahtrow 02 February 2007

The dodgier bars of my distant past I have now put behind due to my age, but I got my memories just the same. Been there, done that. Thanks for the memories! s

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