Napa needs a proper bourbon & blues bar. I need a Star Wars cantina kind of place, flush with locals and tourists, natives and aliens, with that hum of restless energy, the cast of characters coming and going, stories from here to there and everywhere, stories told and untold, histories embellished, half-told, masked, bared. With a relaxed atmosphere, generally, but always with the undercurrent, the potential for things to get serious, much more serious. And sometimes, just sometimes, maybe only once every year or two, the rising, palpable tension, the quieting and congealing to that blood-thick silence before the split-second move that will forever have the locals arguing over who shot first. Or who leaned in first, for the kiss.
Someone get on that, will you? The bourbon & blues bar in Napa, like a Stars Wars cantina? There’s a corner table there, with a corner chair. My name isn’t among those carved into the tabletop, but the chair is known to be mine.
This writer thanks you.
As It Should Be 