It's an unusual setting to see the over-sized portrait of Ernest Hemingway staring at the mostly college-aged patrons that litter the tables and are bellied-up at the bar at Hemingway's in El Paso.  Upon first impression, I figure any Hemingway-esque flawed hero would probably be impressed with the beer selection available - one of the bouncers points it out to me as one of the primary draws of the pub and the creme de la resistance is an elegantly decorated $16 dollar bottle of cranberry lambic. Classy. Although, to admit it, the crowd seems restless and uncertain as the skinny gringo from up north reveals that he will indeed be playing music tonight...

An hour passes at a much faster rate than usual. More than likely, it is the fact that this audience is one of the most responsive, attentive, and colorful groups that I've had a chance to play for. Pats on the back and glory stories from other musicians who are listening are in no short supply. One west Texas man even drops a much larger than necessary tip into my hands and says, "That's some good strummin' there boy."

Out-of-pitch singing, laughing, and shouting surfaces frequently from the onlooking group, and once again, what feels like only moments turns into, "Last call everybody."

Shows like this don't come along very often, so I take a moment to savor it...and the savoring is cut short by my recollection that it is 2am and the drive back to where I'm staying is still another 45 minutes away. Sheesh. You college kids make me feel like The Old Man and the Sea...here's hoping I get enough sleep for tomorrow's show.

-TRMJ