Today, I drove by one of my favorite Oregon Tavern Age joints. Two months has passed since I sat at my favorite table and wrote utterly noncommercial crap or art. I was never sure. But I surely loved writing at that table and gathering stories. The OTA book was already out but I never stop writing the book.
The virus had shut down OTA country. At times I feared it was for good. It seemed like these great greasy joints might not survive. They were already threatened with extinction from gentrification, and now this?
BUT NO! The sign on the window of the joint said it would open tomorrow at 9 in the morning! How they would go about with the social distancing and all that was a story I must investigate. I doubt I’ll be there when the doors open, but I want to see what the OTA regulars had to say. And of course I already knew! It had all been a Left Wing conspiracy! Give me cheap lager or box wine in a dive bar or give me death! Will they conform to the rules? Would they rail against Governor Brown and rip the Chinese and blame Obama? I am dying to find out!