Xy and I were at Tyler’s for beer and 10 cent oysters — typical Monday night. We met an old-time local guy who had last set foot in the bar back in 1967, roundabouts the time I was being born. We talked about how things had changed since then. One thing he said that struck me: “I can’t tell if this is a white bar or a black bar. And that’s a good thing.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>