Hoosier Bars & Local Atmosphere

Here’s another clip from that old local television show made of coffee-cups, paper-clips, and the audacity to trail-along a microphone attached to a cord.

So if you hear the word, “hoosier”—what does it mean to you? The humid rains of the Mississippi river valley fall and trickle and wash-away everything that remains, except for those who remain behind—as little ever changes, out over the baking summer streets.
Bad teeth—hard lines, sunken-cheeks—and a hoarse holler and shout just a stone’s throw from the life & times of ole’ Mr. Beetlejuice. You could see him, in a striped-suit at this bar drowning his sorrows in a mug and banging it against the counter for service. He’s always one for a party. . . . .

The south side of St. Louis is sandy with yellow-grass and jagged sidewalks as you’ll see a lot of gun-metal gray and old red brick houses as there’s a certain type of hard-drinker, barking-out throaty laughter over beer as its rough-shod local Catholicism and old neighborhoods. Hot-dogs, pickled-eggs, a carpenter’s tool-box, and old sallow history as you hear about Stan Musial and local fedora-wearing police-detectives punching the hell out of bank-robbers as people had their conservative, hokey little lives as sure as a plaster-cast of the Virgin Mary offering beatitude to the sidewalks as kids in parochial-school uniforms skip past and the ice-cream truck drives by.

On any one block you’ll have a neighborhood of painters, alcoholics, and construction-workers parking their beat-up old trucks to the weed-sprung sidewalks as the beer flows freely and families are close-knit with odd pockets, here and there—of Bosnian and Muslim immigrants and lots of clattering noise. No one claims to be rich or educated, but a sure currency is always lottery tickets and a carton of cigarettes.

If we had a sequel for Beetlejuice, you could see it taking place around the local St. Louis area as I’m getting closer to wrapping-up my screenplay. Stay tuned, and who knows what surprises we’ll bring. Don’t take any wooden nickels, and we’ll be back tomorrow.

Hoosier Bars & Local Atmosphere

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