Although I lived in Austin for two years, I was never motivated enough to go to the legendary dance hall, The Broken Spoke. Then I left Texas, which left a hole in my heart, and I started going back on a very regular basis. This past visit, I finally pulled on my boots, grabbed my favorite dance partner, and headed down to the honky-tonk.
The photo at the top is of a place at the Broken Spoke lovingly called the "tourist trap". So of course, we ventured in. Immediately upon entering, I could smell almost 50 years of history.... dust, old paper, dry wood, and the lingering smells of liquor and chicken fried steak. Photos everywhere of Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson, and Joe Ely & Kris Kristofferson. Even a token Rose McGowan photo. (?!?)
While current museums show photos of historical events, play relevant music, and even offer up a civil war shot glass or a "remember the Alamo" t shirt, The Broken Spoke offered up a different kind of souvenir: a hangover (come in S, M, L, XL), music to dance to well in to the night, and a musty old library that smelled homage to days gone by.
So sappy. I'll snap back next post I promise.