I miss the Great American Dive. I created this little barstool for you to saddle up to and enjoy vignettes on roadhouses and watering holes that once populated this country (and some that still do!) from Bangor, Maine to Chula Vista, California. These are the little joints that were owned by guys from the neighborhood. Places that allowed tattered and frayed citizens access to their favorite bottled intoxicant. Places aglow with the buzz of neon and more often than not, settings a bit seedy and worn.
My favorite dive, Freddie’s, is here — and which just happens to still be in operation down in the great state of Kentucky. Oh the blissful hours I spent there on a bar stool, engaging the street savvy sages who have held America and gazed at her from twisted angles and in jade-colored light.
Please, tell your tale — share your story on that favorite dive of yours. Click the tab heading Your Favorite Dive and email me a short story and maybe a picture or two. By all means, pass this about to your friends and family. The more the merrier. I will even start a directory so that everyone will be able to find these tiny jewels that still sparkle off the main drags and highways, down the street and around the corner from live — or maybe just in the upstairs of our memory.
da
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