October 24, 2009

You can’t make a Texas bar. They don’t just happen. Good ones take time. They need their scratches and stains. Really good ones will have its own permasmoke smell — even long after smoking was banned. A good Texas bar feels lived in, the same feeling you get when you step into a friend’s living room.

Cadillac Ranch is the exception. Maybe it was the company and the fact that none other than Kinky Freidman was playing an acoustic show that night. The new-ish wooden floors had the stains in all the right places. The bar stools all seemed to show the wear from years of barflys. With the windows wide open, you could still smoke here. My friends and I all lit up cigars in celebration.

It felt like an Austin bar, only wider — a double-wide one of my friends called it. The walls were adorned with old Texas paraphernalia. Restored neon signs from old honky tonks long gone were hung from the ceiling. Last night felt like Texas.

“May the best of the past be the worst of the future.”

Thank you, Kinky.


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All shot with Camera Genius, processed with CameraBag